I scoff weakly. “You’re crazy. One conversation doesn’t change anything.”
“Oh, I don’t know. What about that last thing he said?”
Charli perks up. “What? What did he say?”
Harleigh grins. “He made a declaration.”
Charli’s eyes narrow. “What kind of declaration?”
Harleigh looks at me, waiting.
I groan, “Nothing.”
“Not nothing,” Harleigh says, turning to Charli. “He told her that he was going to remember their next kiss.”
Charli’s lips form a perfect O.
“Oh,” she breathes.
Harleigh nods. “Yeah, that.”
My face burns. “It wasn’t—”
“I have a feeling,” Harleigh continues, completely unfazed, “that man could do a hell of a job apologizing.”
Charli considers that for exactly two seconds before nodding. “Agreed.”
Then she fixes me with a hard look. “But if you decide to let him, you’d better make him work hard for it.”
A laugh bubbles up out of me, unexpected and shaky. I press my face into Harleigh’s shoulder. “That sounds like a terrible idea,” I mumble.
“The best ones always are,” Charli says, wrapping her arms around the both of us.
Harleigh shifts.
“Can I ask something?” she says.
Charli and I both hum our agreement.
“Do you guys think Matty was acting strange? Stranger than usual, I mean.”
I stare at the ceiling. Charli exhales a short, humorless laugh.
“For weeks,” she says.
I nod. “Yeah. Longer than that, honestly.”
Harleigh props herself up on one elbow, eyes flicking between us. “Okay, because I thought maybe it was just me. Or that I was reading into things because I don’t live here anymore.”
“Nope,” Charli says. “You’re not imagining it.”
“She’s off,” I add. “Not bad exactly. Just … not herself.”
Harleigh frowns. “How?”
I search for the right words. “She’s quieter. Less piss and vinegar. She still gets things done—probably more than ever—but it’s like she’s running on fumes.”
Charli nods. “She smiles when she’s supposed to. Laughs at the right places. But it doesn’t always reach her eyes. Like she’s forcing it or something.”
