“And Danica?” I ask, too curious about my cousin to try to find out why Kit is blushing from head to toe.

“What about me?” Danica asks, joining us at our side of the platform as the guys laugh at my question. I make room for her to sit down, and Mike sits on her other side just as Adam chases Rowan back onto the dock.

“I was just asking if you guys were all friends in high school or something,” I repeat, and to my surprise, Danica laughs just as hard as Shawn and Joel did.

“No.”

“Let me guess,” Dee says, pointing a manicured finger across our makeshift circle at her. “Cheerleader.”

“Captain,” Danica boasts, and Dee huffs before going back to ignoring her.

“So how did you two end up together?” I ask, turning my head to question her and Mike.

Mike looks from me, to Danica, to me—and Danica finally gives me an answer.

“He asked me out at the school talent show our freshman year.” She gazes lovingly at Mike. “He’d had a crush on me forever.”

“Since third grade,” Mike agrees on his cue, and the few bites of cheese sandwich I ate nearly make a reappearance.

“Before the last song,” Danica continues, her gaze returning to mine, “he walked up to the mic, told everyone that the next song was for the prettiest girl in school, and then pointed his drumsticks at me.”

“He was so fucking nervous.” Adam laughs, digging his whole braceleted arm into a bag of barbecue potato chips.

“I thought he was going to throw up,” Shawn teases, and Mike’s cheeks turn a bashful shade of pink.

“Shut up.”

“My friends thought he was hot as hell,” Danica brags. “They freaked out. And after the show, when Mike walked up to me and asked me out, I thought my bestie, Katie, was going to faint.”

I’ve met Katie. She’s a raging bitch.

“What about you?” I ask, noticing that the most important details in Danica’s memory are of how her friends felt. Not how she felt.

“Well, I said yes, of course,” she says with a look-at-me, I’m-so-fabulous smile. “How could I not?”

“He gave her his drumsticks,” Joel remembers with a laugh. “Like he thought he was some kind of rock star even back then.”

Mike moves to his knees to reach out and punch Joel in the arm, and Danica’s smile widens. “And after that, it was happily ever after.”

“Right up until you dumped him,” Kit mutters as murky clouds drift across the sky, forming a puzzle of shadows that assemble themselves on our faces.

“It was for the best,” Danica says without missing a beat. “I regret the way it happened, but I needed time to grow up. I needed time to realize what I really want.” She links her arm with Mike’s, fluttering her long lashes up at him when he looks down at her. “I never would have realized what I was missing if I hadn’t had time to miss it.”

I don’t remember her missing him a few weeks ago. I remember her coming home late from dates with guys from Alpha Cheeto Alpha, her hair a mess and her mascara smeared. And before that, I’d never heard of Mike. I’d never heard of Mike Madden or The Last Ones to Know or this eternal love that Danica claims to have for him.

“Hailey, are you okay?” Rowan suddenly asks, and my stomach makes a noise that can only be described as the avenging battle cry of the cheese-mayo-mustard sandwich I just ate.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“You’re not the only one,” Dee grumbles as Mike loosens himself from Danica to lean forward and study my nauseous face. I scramble to my feet because I am absolutely, definitely going to hurl.

“You’re probably seasick,” Mike says. I’m on my feet with my hands gripping my knees when he wraps his fingers around my biceps, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “Let’s get you off this pond.”

“I’ll come with you,” Danica peeps as Mike leads me from the platform. She’s rising to her feet when I hear Shawn call behind us.

“Wait!” A brief pause. “I . . . actually wanted to talk to you about your idea for the music video . . .”

Danica’s footsteps stop echoing off the dock, and I want to look back to see if she’s still following us, but I’m too busy holding my hand over my mouth and letting Mike haul me toward dry land. We step off the dock, we walk through the grass, and when our group looks like nothing but tiny figurines in the distance, Mike finally releases my arm.

“Are you okay?” He reaches out to squeeze my shoulder, the breeze covering me with the subtle scent of his cologne. His eyes are shadowed under the brim of his cap, and something about the perfect shape of his jaw makes my stomach cave in on itself.

I shake my head. My arms feel weak. I’m pretty sure he needs to stop touching me.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Mike asks, and I glance back to our group. Back to where Danica is.

I probably shouldn’t, but I nod. I nod my head yes, and I walk with him into the woods.

Chapter 12

I’m lost. Walking alongside Mike, I’m completely, hopelessly lost. I’m a million thoughts scrambling for purchase in my head. I’m the icy wind and the restless leaves and the erratic pulse hammering wildly under my skin.

I focus on my one-size-too-big boots, stepping carefully over rocks and branches and untamed weeds. We don’t speak. We just walk. We walk while I concentrate on the cyclone churning in my stomach and the storm brewing in my chest. We walk until my nausea subsides and I can finally gaze over at him without tripping over my own feet.