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Twenty-Three

My high school teammates thought it was weird at first when the Princetonians started regularly attending our home games.

“Wait, how do you know them?” my co-captain asked the first time Zach, Simon, and Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV claimed front-row seats in the stands, but by their third appearance, she was inquiring if Simon was single.

“As far as I know…” I said, so happy they’d come to see me play.

“Have you read This Side of Paradise ?”

She looked at me blankly.

“By F. Scott Fitzgerald?” I tried.

Little did they know, Marco and his friends had turned me into a reader.

“Based on his days at Princeton?”

“Oh, no,” she said.

“We read The Great Gatsby in English lit, though.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Not my favorite.”

I smiled.

“Then trust me when I say Simon’s not your type.”

We always caught up after my games ended.

I heard about their classes, eating club antics, and how the food was getting better.

I even sometimes found myself hopeful about spotting Marco in the crowd.

Then I remembered that I did not want to see him, especially after those awkward few moments at Winberie’s.

I’d never responded to his text about Connor and me getting together.

I’m really, really happy for you.

Thanks , I’d thought about writing.

Would you like our date night calendar?

But I worried a text wouldn’t convey my deadpan well enough.

(Plus, it would’ve been super immature.)

I never asked about him, and the Princetonians somehow knew not to tell…

until, one day, they did.

“We thought you’d want to know that Marco and Shelly broke up,” Zach said tentatively.

My body reacted like a roller coaster, stomach dropping before rising back up and twisting in a corkscrew motion.

“Oh?” I managed to say.

“How come?”

They all spoke at once; all I could decipher was that Marco had ended things.

“Well, hopefully being dumped doesn’t affect Shelly’s game too much,” I said.

Princeton wasn’t having a stellar season so far.

“It shouldn’t,” Simon said.

“I suspect she knew that Marco was never hers to lose.”

I felt the blood in my veins thicken.

“What?”

But Simon didn’t repeat himself; Zach’s phone had pinged.

“Ride’s here,” he announced, gesturing to the parking lot.

“Misha’s driving a blue Kia Soul…”

I walked them to their Uber, where we said goodbye.

Then I booked it over to the Defender, feeling electricity pulsing in my fingers.

Just breathe, just relax , I told myself.

It’ll be okay.

Marco and Shelly were over.

“Hey,” Natalie answered.

I’d called her as soon as I’d parked in my driveway.

“How’d your game go?”

“We lost four-two, but it was a fun game.” I rubbed my forehead.

“Do you want to hang out later? Nana brought my bridesmaid dress back the other day…”

“Sure!” Natalie said.

“Will I miss dinner if I leave now?”

I laughed.

My friend loved Da’s cooking.

Tonight was chicken piccata over an arugula salad, and we mostly talked about the current drama on Natalie’s hockey team.

We sequestered ourselves in my room after loading the dishwasher.

“What’s Connor up to tonight?” Natalie asked as I shuffled through hangers in my closet.

I’d hung the bridesmaid dress in the back since it wouldn’t be called to duty for a few more months.

“SAT tutoring,” I said.

Connor had a great GPA, but he was about to take the test for the third time.

I am far from dumb , he liked to say, but man, can that exam humble a person…

“Gotcha,” Natalie said.

“Things are still going well between you two?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Of course. We’re best friends.”

She nodded back.

“I know, and that’s what I love about you guys.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Have you kissed yet?”

I hesitated, then released a sigh.

“No,” I said. “The vibe hasn’t been right yet.”

“Ah, yes,” Natalie said.

“Your first kiss vibe.”

“Hey, you thought it was cute!”

“I do!” She giggled.

“I totally do, but it’s been like three weeks. Why hasn’t the mood struck?”

“Because we’ve both been really busy,” I said, the back of my neck flushing a little.

“Sports and homework after school, and club field hockey and club lacrosse on the weekends, so we’ve pretty much been hanging at each other’s houses. Nothing really romantic.” I spotted the wood hanger that held the plastic garment bag.

“But”—I snatched the hanger—“we’re going to Grey on Saturday, so I’m excited!”

Grey was the recently renovated restaurant just outside town, a stylish upscale steakhouse that sprawled across the ground floor of the historic Greystone Manor.

Dad had gotten a gift certificate from clients and had regifted it to me.

“You and Connor have been working hard this fall,” he said.

“Enjoy yourselves!”

Ironically, my parents had also chosen it for Austin and Katie’s rehearsal dinner.

It would be classic, but with a twist of modernism.

“Ooh, that sounds amazing!” Natalie grinned, then pointed to my dress.

“Now go try that on, please.”

Nana had truly performed some type of witchcraft.

Instead of being swallowed up by the fabric, I now looked like I’d been poured into the cabernet gown.

It hugged me in all the right places, and the neckline scooped tastefully low while the cap sleeves fluttered.

Natalie gasped as I did a glam-cam twirl for her.

“Do you mind taking a picture?” I asked, handing over my phone.

“I should send one to Katie’s mom to prove that I haven’t accidentally set it on fire.”

Natalie gave me a quizzical look but relished her photographer role.

Madeline, you look absolutely gorgeous!

!! Mrs. Gallant immediately replied to my photo.

Have you thought about hair and makeup yet?

Text Amanda and ask her to share her Pinterest board.

I sent the shot to Katie, too.

Great , was all she texted back.

I waited for more, my eyes prickling when more did not come.

“Okay, what’s her deal?” Natalie asked as she unzipped my dress for me.

“I know texts don’t always convey tone well, but would it kill her to add an exclamation point? She sounds like she couldn’t care less.”

“Yeah, she always comes off that way whenever wedding stuff comes up over text. Completely detached, or sometimes even miserable. Like she doesn’t even want to marry Austin.” I shrugged.

“She’s probably still pissed at me for the whole Finger Lakes fight, too. I texted her an apology, and she accepted it, but nothing has gotten better.”

Natalie grimaced.

“Does Austin know about that?”

“Not unless she told him,” I said, realizing that Katie and my brother were both keeping secrets from each other.

Katie was keeping our post–Prosecco Pong duel on the down-low, and Austin was hiding Samira’s ultimatum.

“Hmm,” Natalie said.

“May I see their wedding invitation again? I looked up Lily Hopper—the artist—on Instagram, and her portfolio is magical .”

Now wearing cozy joggers and a retro zigzag-patterned Patagonia, I grabbed the envelope from my desk drawer and joined Natalie on my bed.

Miss Madeline Fisher-Michaels was handwritten across the navy-blue envelope in gold calligraphy.

Mrs. Gallant must’ve proofed the guest list, since Katie always misspelled my name: Madeleine.

Other than that, the invitation was intriguing.

It didn’t vibe with their overall Christmas-at-the-country-club theme.

It was—well, it had more character.

Inside the envelope was a custom insert, a watercolor of a frozen pond surrounded by snow-dusted pine trees, with one of those really rare winter sunsets: a misty blue-gray and amber sky that somehow glowed gold.

“I’ve never been to Bedens Brook,” I told Natalie, “but I guess this scene is somewhere on the property?”

“Nothing gets past you, Mads,” Natalie said sarcastically before admiring the invitation itself.

The same cream card stock and navy border, along with the formal wedding invitation language, but it was made interesting by an interlocking A and C at the top.

Katie’s C in gold, and Austin’s A in icy blue.

The letters were wreathed by greenery, a playful crest of sorts.

Their names leapt out of the matrimonial summons, too, in whimsical navy script:

Catherine Marie

to

Austin Frederick

It was traditional but, at the same time, so not traditional.

It was, honestly, kind of fun.

Freshly cut blue spruce and balsam fir trees leaned against the red barn that had been painted on the back of the little RSVP card.

Again, Bedens Brook must’ve been more than the photo gallery on its website.

“Shit, I still need to send this,” I said.

“What should I have to eat? There’s herb-roasted chicken, but Austin said the maple-glazed salmon is really good.”

Natalie snorted.

“You haven’t submitted your RSVP yet?”

“Well, it’s obvious I’m coming,” I said.

“The deadline also isn’t until next week.” I checked the box for the salmon, then drew a line through the space for my plus-one’s name and his meal preference.

“Mads, you have a date,” Natalie reminded me.

“Connor?”

I waved my hand.

“He has his own RSVP. He’s invited to the wedding.”

She smirked.

“I bet Katie and the bridesmaids would still love for you to write his name down!”

“Oh, would they ever…” I smiled and stuffed the little card in its little envelope, prestamped and addressed to Hotel Gallant.

Natalie’s voice softened after I sealed it with saliva.

“Mads, you do know these invitations…”

“More or less cost five thousand dollars?”

“I would hope so!” Natalie said.

“Lily Hopper works wonders , my friend.” She shook her head.

“But no, I meant…you know every piece of this invitation is a love letter to your home, right?”

I gave her a look.

“Wait, what?”

Natalie nodded.

“All of this, Mads, is for your family.” She pointed to the RSVP missive.

“The barn on the back of your dinner order? It’s your Christmas tree farm.” She rifled around for Austin and Katie’s watercolor save-the-date and pointed to the chestnut mare outside the Bedens Brook clubhouse.

“That’s Tally-Ho!”

My heart slowed, seeing our horse in her holiday tartan blanket.

Oh…

Natalie got right in my face with the envelope’s winter watercolor insert.

“And this scene isn’t at Bedens Brook!” she said.

“It’s based on a photo that’s framed downstairs.” She swept her arm toward my window, as if pointing all the way down to our pond.

“It’s right over there.”

“Austin,” I whispered, eyes smarting with realization.

“This was all Austin’s idea. Katie…” I rubbed my forehead.

“She let Austin design the invitations.”

“Well, I think Lily deserves at least a little credit.” Natalie poked me.

“But yeah, it looks like it. You’ve been saying Katie hasn’t wanted any of his opinions.”

“Except this one.” I picked up the invitation, as if to look at it for the first time.

Austin’s and my childhood flashed in front of my eyes.

“It’s timeless.”

“Yes,” Natalie agreed.

“It’s timeless.”

***

A few hours after Natalie left, I called it a night.

“I’m going to Bedfordshire,” I yawned, snapping shut my copy of Emma before giving my dads hugs.

But once I’d changed into pajamas, brushed my teeth, and exchanged good night texts with Connor, I found myself restless.

I tossed and turned in bed for a while, then threw back my covers to pace my room.

Moonlight slipped through my closed blinds.

We thought you’d want to know that Marco and Shelly broke up , I heard Zach’s voice in my head, followed by Simon: I suspect she knew that Marco was never hers to lose.

In the end, I had to dare myself to do it.

I dare you , I thought.

I dare you to text Marco.

Hey , I typed, trying to tune out the voice in my head: Why are you doing this when you have Connor?

I hated myself for it, but after hearing Austin talk about Katie, I’d started wondering if Connor truly was my Samira…

and only my Samira.

Which meant I had a Katie out there.

I closed my eyes when I hit send, knowing the conversation could go wrong.

Or, even worse—he could ignore me exactly like I’d ignored him.

But his reply was almost immediate.

Hi , it read. Long time…

No see , I finished for him.

No chat.

And whose fault is that?

he wrote.

My cheeks warmed.

I don’t know. You never come to my games.

Only because I have class.

In addition to the very minute detail that you don’t want to see me.

That’s not true , I thought.

It once was, but not now.

I also joined the club soccer team , he added when I didn’t respond.

Significantly lower commitment than varsity, less pressure, and much more fun.

Everyone has pure love for the game.

I smiled a little. You’re still playing soccer?

Yes , he said. It turns out it wasn’t that easy to give up.

Suddenly, I wanted to ask him a thousand questions.

I wanted to know what he found interesting about his classes this semester, his family, and if he’d finished his manuscript.

I wanted to hear about something that had recently made him laugh.

I wanted to know why he’d agreed to play Katie’s reconnoiter.

They told you , he texted.

Right?

Shelly. He was talking about Shelly.

I gulped and did my best to dodge the question.

Do you want to call and catch up?

I asked. I’m wide-awake.

Gray typing dots appeared, then disappeared.

Appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

No , Marco messaged.

My stomach sank, but I still had the guts to challenge him.

Why not?

Because , he wrote, if I hear your voice, I’m never going to hang up the phone .

I swallowed hard, a lump in my throat.

This isn’t platonic , I thought after leaving him on read.

And I can’t ever pretend it is.

***

Mr. and Mrs. Gallant had invited my parents to a Devils game on Saturday night, so I had the house to myself while I got ready for dinner with Connor.

Grey was a fancy restaurant, so I went all out in a little black dress, silver heels, and the diamond earrings my late grandmother had left me.

The studs sparkled in the mirror, and I remembered her ruby engagement ring just sitting in our basement’s safe instead of on Katie’s finger.

Part of me still couldn’t believe she didn’t want a family heirloom.

It was unique, but if she was Austin’s favorite person, it belonged to her.

The doorbell rang.

This is going to be a spectacular evening, Connor McCallister!

I thought, a thrill racing through my veins.

But by the time I’d quelled Arthur and Francine’s barking with treats and opened the door to see Connor looking so handsome in a suit and tie, my excitement had turned to anxiety.

This was it; this was The Moment.

We were alone in the porch light glow with the sun slipping down in the sky.

The crisp autumn breeze reminded me that I needed a coat, but I quickly forgot about grabbing one.

“Hello,” I said to Connor.

“Hello,” he said back and took a step closer to me.

I smiled while my lungs kicked and screamed, begging me to breathe.

Goose bumps burst when Connor put a hand on my waist, and when he leaned in…

Laughter bubbled out of my mouth.

“I’m sorry.” I tried pulling myself together, but I couldn’t stop giggling.

“I’m so sorry…”

Connor cocked his head.

“About?”

My stomach sank when he stepped back, knowing I needed to face the facts.

I couldn’t lie to myself, and I definitely couldn’t lie to him.

I shifted from one high heel to the other.

“I know everything is perfect,” I started.

“ You’re perfect, but…” I shook my head.

“I can’t do it, Con. I can’t kiss you.”

Connor didn’t respond; he didn’t even move .

He stood on the porch, stunned, as I grimaced, bracing myself for the worst. Not only our relationship ending, but also our friendship .

It was only when I caught his shoulders relax that I realized they’d been tensed since I’d opened the door.

“Okay, wow,” he finally said.

“Thank you for telling me.” He squeezed my side, but not in a flirty way.

It felt like reassurance.

“Because I can’t kiss you, either, Mads. I love you—”

“I love you, too!” I quickly said.

Connor half smiled. “You don’t feel that pull , though, right?”

I shook my head, mind flashing to Marco.

“I don’t, either,” he said.

“You are the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful girl I’ve dated, which makes this pretty confusing…” he trailed off.

“But for some reason, I’m never going to fall in love with you. No matter how much I wish I could.”

“Me too,” I said, now thinking of Austin and Samira.

They were best friends, and best friends only.

“You’re my oldest friend, Connor, but if we were destined to be a certified power couple, it would’ve happened by now. I mean, we live less than a half mile from each other. There was never any distance between us, and honestly, I’ve never been jealous of your girlfriends. Just annoyed if they treated you terribly or hijacked our plans.”

He nodded.

“I know I acted jealous, but I wasn’t actually begrudging of the guys you went out with,” he admitted.

“I thought you were wasting your time, because none of them were good enough for you. You deserve someone incredible.”

“So do you,” I said.

“And her name is not Lauren Bitterman.”

Connor smirked.

“This should be way more awkward than it is, right?”

“Probably.” I smiled.

“But we don’t have time for awkward.” I hip checked him toward his car.

“Our reservation is in ten minutes.”

“You’ll always be my best friend,” he told me as we drove to the restaurant.

“Why, thank you,” I said and reached over the center console to give his knee a good old grandmotherly pat.

“If you’re lucky, you’ll always be mine.”

When Connor glanced over at me, I winked. And he winked back.