Page 10

“You’re on,” Pete said, digging in as the group cheered her on. Her nose began running — the first sign of trouble, sniffle by sniffle — and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Izzy handed her a napkin while Kiera shook her head, amused.

“You know, there’s no shame in bowing out,” Danica teased, clearly enjoying herself.

Pete stubbornly took another bite. “Never,” she said, though her voice was strained.

By the time she finished, Pete was gulping down water while the others laughed. “Alright, you win,” Pete admitted, wiping her face. “But next time, I’m cooking.”

The laughter felt easy, almost natural. Kiera relaxed, letting herself enjoy the moment. Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Maggie raised her glass, tilting it toward the center of the table. "Alright, now that Pete’s survived Danica’s inferno curry, how about a toast? To friendships that survive time, distance, and questionable spice levels."

Everyone laughed and clinked glasses, even Pete, who muttered, "My taste buds may never recover, but sure. To friendships."

"Do you guys remember our junior year winter break?" Maggie asked, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. "The road trip to New Mexico?"

Pete groaned. "The trip where Danica decided to trust her GPS over actual road signs and we ended up on that dirt road in the middle of nowhere, worried about an over-eager rancher who kidnapped us for torture?"

Danica shrugged unapologetically. "I stand by my decision. The GPS said it was faster."

"Faster to what? Ritualistic cult murder?" Pete teased, making everyone laugh.

"Hey, that detour was the highlight of the trip," Danica said, pointing her fork at Pete.

Pete winked with comic exaggeration. “I wouldn’t say it was the best part of the trip. There was that shitty motel, with those super springy beds, and you and I spent all night?—”

Danica flushed red, while Maggie and Izzy were openly cringing. Kiera interrupted Pete’s tangential trip down memory lane with, "We found that little diner.”

Maggie sighed dreamily. “The best pancakes I’ve ever had."

"And the worst coffee," Kiera added, smiling at the memory. "It tasted like it had been brewed with swamp water."

"But you drank three cups of it," Danica pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"That was self-preservation," Kiera shot back. "I was the one driving while you all slept like babies."

"Not me," Maggie said. "I stayed up to keep you company."

"By playing the same five songs on repeat," Kiera replied, rolling her eyes. "I still can’t listen to Fleetwood Mac without hearing your off-key singing in my head."

Maggie feigned offense, clutching her chest. "Off-key? I’ll have you know, my rendition of ‘Dreams’ is iconic."

"Iconic is one word for it," Izzy said dryly, earning a laugh from Pete.

Familiar memories and jokes fueled easy conversation. At one point, Maggie’s phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it with a sigh. "Gwen says hi. She’s wrangling the kids into bed and wanted me to remind you all that you’re invited to Austin anytime."

"How are the twins?" Kiera asked, ignoring the unexpected pang she felt in her chest at the idea of having a caring spouse at home, parenting without worry.

"They’re absolute tyrants," Maggie said with a laugh. "Arlo’s figured out how to pick locks, so nothing is safe anymore, and Jude has decided he’s the boss of the household."

"Sounds like they’re taking after their mom," Pete said with a grin.

"Absolutely," Maggie said proudly, raising her glass again in acknowledgement.

“So, speaking of chaos — surfing tomorrow?” Pete asked between bites, grinning at Izzy. “We’re on Pacific Beach. It’d be criminal not to.”

“Obviously,” Izzy replied, her tone carrying a spark of enthusiasm for the first time that evening.

Danica raised an eyebrow. “What about paddle boarding? I saw a rental place down toward Mission Beach. Less chance of Maggie breaking an arm this time around.”