“I spent my entire freshman year of college wishing I could talk to you,” Zoe goes on. “I felt so horribly guilty for shutting you out, for never responding to that letter you wrote me. On paper or in person. I read it and panicked. My body locked up and I didn’t know what to do. And then Will told me about our dad, and—my priorities were skewing every hour. Iknewyou were hurting, that I’d driven this metaphorical knife into you even deeper. I knew all of this, and instead of fixing it, I just wallowed in it, until I convinced myself that too much time had passed, that you were better off not hearing from me at all.”
She turns to me, her eyes wet. “I’m sorry, Josie. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you. I’m sorry I didn’t say more to you about your oma’s passing. I have regretted it every year of my life since, and when Will told me he’d run back into you, that he’d offered to be your consultant, I felt this…relief.Like a weight off my chest, like it was fate.”
“Zoe,” I say, my voice pained. “Even back then, when I didn’t know what was going on with your parents, Istilldidn’t think you owed me anything.I’msorry. I should have known you’d be hurt when Will and I kissed. And I also shouldn’t have let you push me away. Your family was hurting, too. We could have been there for each other. I’m sorry about a lot, but I’m mostly sorry you needed a friend during a hard time and didn’t have one.”
Zoe reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back while a very old hole in my heart patches itself. “I forgive you. And anyway, we were teenagers,” she says, rolling her eyes. “It was basically a simulation.”
I laugh easily and gulp more of my wine.
“This was meant to happen.” Zoe dips her chin, a tiny but confident nod. “You and Will were meant to find each other again, to fall in love. I’m a big believer in fate.”
“I remember,” I murmur. “That four-letter word is still both of our phone passcodes.”
She laughs. “No way.”
“Way.”
We talk about everything, all night long. Jobs and cities and fashion and books and vacations andWhere Are They Now: Woodmont High Edition.We drain the bottle, drain another. I consult with Zoe on what type of skirt to sew for the dress. We take blurry selfies to send to our mothers. Zoe doubles down on the greatness of New York City, throws out five different weekends she’d love for me and Will to visit. I don’t even bother checking my work schedule before promising to pick one before she leaves town.
Later that night, she squeezes me and slips down the driveway, back into Will’s car. He watches me through the windshield and I mouthThank you.
He dips his chin, mouth quirked.
And the Grant twins drive away.
CHAPTER FORTY
The intern send-off party is now doubling as Camila’s goodbye gathering. She picks me up from my house at four p.m. and we drive together to Zilker Brewing. In the car, we blast all our favorite songs we listened to on repeat during college.
“You look how I feel!” I shout over the wind, which shoots past in humid gusts outside our open windows.
“Lightweight? Carefree? Unbothered?”
“All of the above!”
Camila slants me a grin. She flips on her blinker. “I’m getting married this weekend.”
“You’re gettingmarriedthis weekend!”
“I’m moving to New York City!”
“You’re going to be awifeand astudentin New York City,” I say.
“Will you visit? As soon as you can?” Cami asks. “I’m not talking about a dinner when you’re in town for work, I’m talking about a real visit.”
“You name the day, Cami. I’ll be there.”
“I know it isn’t your favorite city,” she says.
“I want to give it another chance.”
She smirks at me. “You really are in a good mood. I take it the conversation with Zoe went well?”
I gape at her. “Youknewabout that?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You think I just left your house without conspiring with Will on aplan? Give me a little credit.”
The second we show up to the party, my own career woes are forgotten. What’s amazing about college interns is their drama will always knock out your own.
