He jumped down, sloshing his beer again, and wrapped her in a bear hug. He turned to me next, and my body tensed as I realized I was about to be suffocated.
“Annaaaaaa!” he called, lifting me in an endearing hug.
I grinned, “Hey, Jay.”
“Happy birthday,” he said, grinning ear to ear as he put me down.
“Not yet, we have a few hours still,” I said.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” Justin asked, looking at me.
My chest tightened, but I managed a nod. I wasn’t used to talking to guys, so it didn’t matter if I found him attractive or not; I was going to make a fool of myself anyway. Finally, I managed, “Twenty. Can’t wait. One year closer to needing to have a plan I haven’t started on yet.”
He softened. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. I think you deserve two gap years if you need them.”
“More like a gap lifetime,” I muttered.
Katie cleared her throat and said, “Come on, let’s go make s’mores!”
She pulled me along toward the bonfire, Justin laughing at her antics and following along. We made small talk, burned a few marshmallows, and he told me about how college was going.
I nodded along, listening to him tell me about his classes, my stomach flipping. I wanted this. To be normal. It was going well; my muscles were relaxing. Yeah, this was good. Maybe Katie was right.
Until he asked me a question.
I stiffened.
I didn’t want to talk about me. He was watching me curiously, and I closed my eyes.
Breathe, Anna. Just fucking say something.
“Yeah, I got my GED,” I managed, even though my throat was drier than a desert.
“That’s great,” he said. “It was, uh, pretty scary, that year you disappeared. Everyone looked everywhere for you. There were camera crews and reporters all over the place.”
Here it was—all the landmines I’d avoided were all going off at once. I pulled my marshmallow out, inspecting it, buying time as anxiety tightened my throat.
It was strange to hear his perspective on that time, and now that I was already uncomfortable, I wanted to hear more. While I remembered bits and pieces, it was all a blur. It took weeks for me to understand that an entire year had passed, and longer for them to convince me my mother was dead and it hadn’t been a terrible nightmare.
“You okay?” Justin asked, yanking me back to reality.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “It’s weird thinking about it all.”
“I’m sure,” he said. “We were all worried. Having you back was a miracle. I don’t think I ever got a chance to say it, but I’m sorry about your mom.”
My heart jolted, and my breath hitched. I took a deep breath and closed her memory like a corrupted file.
“Thanks,” I said, recovering quickly beneath my hard-earned facade. “It’s been surreal.”
Justin flashed a familiar smile—the kind that fell firmly between pity and curiosity.
“You seem to be pulling through it. It takes a lot of strength to endure what you experienced,” he said.
I tried to smile, but my mask was hardening. Going back to that night took me far from reality, and whatever connection I had to those around me was further corroded.
“Hey, I think I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like something?” he asked, relieving the tension building in my spine.
“Sure,” I muttered, mustering a brief smile.
