Anna’s nose crinkled but her eyes were wet. “I’ve been done but…yeah.” She and Blue were moving to Kansas City next week. Brooklyn had received a master’s in psychology in December. She’d been hanging around Sweet Grass so I’d have a roommate. Tomorrow, she was moving to Durham to be with Jonah. He’d found her a job at the hospital while he finished medical school.
None of us would ever be students on this campus again. Our time here was done. With Anna married, and Brooklyn getting married, we’d never be roommates again.
I forced a laugh but I refused to cry. Not on the day Ashton and I finally got together. “It’s the end of an era.”
Brooklyn put her hands on her hips. “I’m gonna miss you guys.” She hiccuped. “I mean, you’re not gonna miss each other. Tally’s going to be a Dupree before long.”
I choked on a laugh. “Let’s not count our chickens. We barely got together three minutes ago. Besides, you said I was the runaway bride type.”
“Not anymore. You look at Ashton differently. Like he’s your anchor.” Brooklyn swore and shook her head, tears spilling over even as she fought them. “I give it six months.” She wiped her cheeks. “You guys are my very best friends. I want you to know that.”
Anna laughed. “What is happening right now? Who are you?”
“I don’t know.” Brooklyn blew her breath out in an O.
She opened her arms and motioned for us to bring it in. Brooklyn’s one-armed hug around my neck was so tight I thought my head might pop off. But I’d let it pop off for her.
She sniffed. “You guys are coming to my wedding.” She wagged a finger like it was an order. Like we needed to be told. Then she groaned. “In two years.”
“You know we are,” Anna said. “Double maids of honor.”
“And we’re doing our girl’s weekend every year.” I looked pointedly at them. “No exceptions.”
“No exceptions,” they said together.
“And I’ll be back for Tally’s wedding,” Brooklyn said. “In December.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Okay.”
Anna’s head cocked at Brooklyn. “You could always move home to Seddledowne someday.”
Brooklyn snorted. “Seddledowne? The backwater blip where dreams go to die? Where you’re suffocated by cow manure and small-town gossip and nosy parents?”
I laughed. “Tell us how you really feel, Brook.”
Her head started to bob and I knew she was about to do just that. “Where, if you’re lucky, on a wild Saturday night, you might catch Old Man Jenkins racing his mobility scooter down Main Street.” Her hands went to her hips. “And don’t get me started on the dating pool? More like a puddle. I've seen more eligible bachelors in a monastery. Oh, and hungry on a Friday night? Head on down to the Fast Mart and treat yourself to a hot dog that’s been rotating since the Bush administration.”
A snort shot out of my nose. Anna cackled. One man’s trash really was another man’s treasure. Seddledowne was the only place I ever wanted to be. And I knew Anna was secretly loathing the idea of being in Kansas City or anywhere that wasn’t home for the next decade.
“Say three nice things about Seddledowne,” Anna ordered.
Brooklyn crossed her arms and grumped. “No. And you can’t make me.”
“Do it,” Anna demanded. “I need to hear them, Brook. I’m moving next week and I need to know that you don’t hate everything about our hometown, otherwise, I’ll worry that you’ll forget me when you get to Durham.”
“Same,” I said.
“Fine.” She humphed and exhaled loudly. “Seddledowne, where Firefly Fields Farm has so many lightning bugs?—”
“Fireflies,” Anna corrected.
“Lightning bugs. And Blue will back me up on that.” Brook dared Anna with an arched brow. “Firefly Fields Farm, where there are so many lightning bugs that you might forget you’re in the country and think you’re at a Taylor Swift concert from all the flashing lights.”
It was pretty magical.
Anna held up a finger. “That’s one.”
Brooklyn sighed like she was annoyed by the assignment. “Seddledowne, the only place where you can steal your neighbor’s tractor—because you need a ride to homecoming—and you won’t get arrested.” Brooklyn had done that in a fit of anger when her parents told her she was grounded for using bad language. Imagine seeing your bestie roll up to the big dance in a jacked Kubota.
