Page 104 of Get Over It, April Evans

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” April said.

“Hey,” Sasha said, presenting her hands, “I know what I’m doing next month.”

“Ah yes, Airstreaming through the canyons.”

“I already told you, Gertie is too feeble for an Airstream. She’s in her golden years.”

April blinked at her. “You’re extremely weird.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Fair enough,” April said, laughing, but something deep in her chest fluttered. She looked around the café now, felt the warmth of Ramona’s arm against hers as she joined in Dylan and Daphne’s conversation, everything so familiar, but also strange somehow. Suddenly, everything in this setting looked odd, out of place, and she felt out of place inside of it.

“Where are you going again?” she asked Sasha.

Sasha shrugged. “West. Arizona, New Mexico, maybe Colorado. Trying to hit all fifty states. I’m somewhere in the thirties.”

“That sounds incredible,” April said, fiddling with the straw in her shake.

“Why, you interested?” Sasha asked.

“Me?” April asked, brows lifting. “I—”

But she caught sight of Daphne again then, laughing at something Dylan had said, all the uncertainty between them swelling in April’s heart like a river in the rain.

“Here we go again,” Sasha said, rolling her eyes. “You two are gross.”

“You two who?” April asked, sipping her shake just for something else to focus on.

“Oh, please,” Sasha said. “Ramona, back me up.”

April stiffened a little as the conversation between the others halted abruptly.

“Back you up?” Ramona asked.

“Daphne and April,” Sasha said. “Smiling like fools at each other all the time.”

Ramona glanced at April, who kept her eyes on Sasha’s clueless rat-fink face.

“I did notice something like that,” Ramona said coolly.

“So what if we are?” April said quietly, calmly. Her heart was pounding though. She inhaled slowly. She hadn’t told Ramona about anything that had happened in the last month after the engagement dinner. At least, not the specifics. She’d only seen Ramona with Dylan since that night, and they’d all been busy with wedding preparations. The only texts they’d exchanged had been wedding related as well, like how Ramona wanted the wedding party in blush-pink suits or dresses of their choice, while Dylan would don an ivory suit and Ramona would wear a gauzy ivory-and-floral dress she’d designed herself.

They also texted about how Blair Emmanuel, Dylan’s best mate, was coming into town a few days before the wedding and renting the huge lake house where she and Dylan had filmed several scenes for their movie two years ago,As If You Didn’t Know, for all their Hollywood friends to stay in, and no, Blair didn’t need April’s help planning the wedding shower, she and Olive had it covered, but thanks for asking. And there had been some communication about flowers (boho-inspired pale pink and ivory poppies, anemones, roses, and eucalyptus), the music (a queer band called Beach Glass that Dylan loved playing dreamy versions of queer pop songs), and how Dylan had decided to hire private security to deal with any paparazzi for the ceremony and reception, which would take place under a glowing silk tent in Ramona and Dylan’s expansive backyard on the lake.

All of which resulted in April’s staid responses ofSounds lovelyandI love a good violin, because all of the information was simply relayed to April like a daily update feed.

There were no questions. No pleas for help. No stressful freakouts on Ramona’s part, no emotional venting. There weren’t even any exclamations of happiness here and there. Other than an occasionalThat will be so pretty, April wasn’t sure how to respond to any of it, particularly since her first instinct wasBlush pink, really?She and Ramona still hadn’t talked—reallytalked—since news of the engagement broke weeks ago. April knew they needed to, but didn’t want to do anything to ruin this time for Ramona.

At least, that was what she told herself.

She was being selfless.

Swallowing any hurt or left-out feelings—and the fact that shehatedwearing pink, how Ramona knew she only liked pink in her hair or in her favorite cocktail—for the sake of her best friend’s happy day.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that, more sinister, even. She just didn’t know how to address it, or even how to admit it to herself.

So she said nothing.