I didn’t know how to answer that. I was definitely preoccupied last fall; she wasn’t wrong about that. “So this is my fault because Nana died?”
She made a frustrated noise. “Of course not. I’m not comparing what I’m dealing with to what you’ve been dealing with.”
“Good, because it’s not a competition,” I told her, trying to understand while feeling defensive about my own grief.
“I know that, but it still made it hard for me to communicate with you last fall because I didn’t want to burden you with my petty shit. I was trying to spare your feelings.”
“It’s okay for best friends to burden each other,” I said, looking out through the balcony railing at a boat coming into the marina with all its lights on. “Can you please just tell me what’s been going on with you?”
A long moment went by before she began explaining. “After you left for Harvard, it felt like the start of big changes, with you gone, but I was okay with that. Excited, even? But... I don’t know. The days began to blur, and I felt disconnected. Like everyone else was riding their own waves, and I was just stuck in the same town, with the same routines. Only, you weren’t here. There were no Wag treasure hunts. Benny was off at school, and Seb had just gotten back to town—we hadn’t totally reconnected at that point. I was just... alone.”
Battling emotions tugged her facial features in several directions. She swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears.
“Jaz,” I said.
She shook her head. “I know how dumb this sounds. Boo-hoo, I was alone. But it started slowly, like, one bad day, then another.A good day, then back to bad. And before I knew it, Christmas rolled around, and all the days were bad. I mean, winter is never fun—”
Lake-effect snow was a real thing here, and we were often pummeled with blizzards. But it was the unending gray of winter that was so brutal. No real sun for weeks, sometimes months. And that was especially hard for someone like Jazmine, who needed to be on the water. Can’t paddleboard when literal boulders of ice are washing up on shore and everything is covered with snow.
“I didn’t realize how depressed I was,” Jazmine said in a low voice. “It snuck up on me, and by that time, I was too weak to fight it. That’s when I ended up hanging out with Paul at that party. When it all started.”
Jesus. Now it all made more sense. “When did it end?”
She blew out a hard breath. “For good? Last week.”
“Oh?”
“We had a big blowout in the parking lot of that old roller-skating rink east of town the day before you flew back. It was ...” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Messy. I’d just wanted to end things peacefully, but I didn’t know how Paul would react. So when we agreed to meet, I asked Seb to take me there, sort of as backup.”
“Swear to God, Jaz, if Pauleverlays a single finger on you—”
“He didn’t.” She held up a hand to make it clear. “And I don’t think he ever would. But I didn’t want to take any chances, so I brought Seb along. In hindsight, a huge mistake.” She mimed punching her own eye.
“That’swhere Seb got the black eye?”
She nodded. “It’s where we all got hurt. I was trying to keep Paul and Seb apart, slipped, and fell on this.” She held up her sling.
Seriously? “Not showing off in front of your class on your board?”
She gave me an embarrassed look and scratched her nose. “Seb took me to the ER that night—which, by the way, was the worst ride of my life because his eye was swelling up, and he couldn’t see to drive very well. Don’t remember much except for that Rick Steves audiobook dude talking about the Black Forest over the Speed Buggy’s speakers, and I remember being terrified we were going to die and thinking at that moment that I’d rather be riding in a car with Benny than Seb—”
I snorted. “That’s saying a lot.”
“Ye-a-a-ah. We flattened a stop sign a block away from Trinity Health.”
“Jesus,” I moaned.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He’s trying. He came back to town at my lowest point, and if it weren’t for him, who knows what would’ve happened to me. This has pretty much been the worst year of my life.”
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, fighting past a lump in my throat. “You needed me, and I was oblivious. I’m a terrible friend.”
“No, Paige.” Two fat tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m a terrible friend for not telling you I needed you.”
“No. I should’ve been here. I should’ve known without you having to tell me before you resorted to sleeping with the enemy.”
She snorted softly. Then I did. We looked at each and smiled gently.
After a moment, I said, “Is Paul the reason you didn’t pick me up from the airport?”
