Page 77 of Never Not Friends

She’s just…absent.

Even when she’s standing right in front of me.

Like how she didn’t even text me on my birthday two days ago. Technically, she said “Happy Birthday” in the group chat after everyone else had. But I don’t know. I was hoping for a little more from my birthday buddy. I’m used to a little more. She’s been part of almost all my birthdays since we were fifteen. So I guess some stupid part of me expected⁠—

This is dumb.

I can’t even believe I’m thinking about it.

She told me happy birthday.

End of story.

Moving on.

Juliet comes down the hallway, tilting her head to read what box I’m holding. “Hmm, let’s put that in the extra bedroom.”

I obey, dropping the box off down the hall.

“Last one in this carload.” Emma kicks the door shut behind her. “It’s cooking utensils and bowls.”

Juliet waves her into the kitchen. “We can unload these boxes first.”

She opens drawers and cupboards, pushing my things around, making room for her stuff. “I’ll probably have to go through all of this and throw most of it out.”

I straighten. “Are you talking about throwing out my stuff?”

“Well, yeah.” She laughs a little. “My kitchen things are better than yours, plus we’ll get new presents from the wedding.” Her brows pinch together. “Why are you acting so put out by it?”

“I’m not.” I totally am. It’s like an out-of-body experience where I’m floating above, watching myself throw a tantrum, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Her eyes narrow even more. “You’re being weird.” She flips her head to Emma. “You’re seeing his attitude, right?”

Of all the people I don’t want witnessing and weighing in on this conversation, Emma is number one.

Her hands go up like she’s Switzerland. “I don’t know. Don’t ask me.”

“What I think is happening”—Juliet opens and closes drawers a little more aggressively now—“is that you’re having your typical commitment freak-out from seeing all my stuff in your house. I shouldn’t be surprised. We go through this same thing every other week.” She stops what she’s doing and looks directly at me. “It would be nice for once if you acted a little bit excited about this wedding and starting our life together.”

“I’m excited.” The words come out automatically, and I find myself glancing at Emma, hoping she’s not reading my expression, but she pretends to be busy filling the pantry.

“Would it kill you to show it?”

“I’m trying.” I shrug.

“Being a baby over how many boxes I’m bringing into your house—into our house—isn’t trying.” She rolls her eyes like she’s fed up with me.

I’m fed up with myself.

Emma’s phone dings with a text. It’s sitting on the counter next to me, so I look.

Shane:

For our second date, I think we should go…

Seeing his name and the words ‘second date’ across her screen shifts something uncomfortable into place inside my chest.

“Uh…” I hold the phone out to her. “It’s a text from Shane. Something about a second date.”