After ending the call, I slid my phone across the island and released a breath so deep that it sounded like I’d been suppressing it for ages. It’d been a few months, at least.
“Okay, first,” Grace said, “that impression of your mom waseerilygood. I didn’t know you could do that!”
“I didn’t either,” I replied, tightening my ponytail. “I really just hoped for the best.”
“Excuse me, but did Isa Cruz actuallywingsomething?” Grace applauded me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Why, thank you, G.” I did a curtsy to make her laugh. “It was best to call in now. They start notifying parents after roll call in homeroom.”
Grace snapped her fingers.Immediate action,it signified. I was known for taking immediate action in any situation.
Except for one.
My heart twinged.Today,I thought.Today I’ll tell her.
I’d been telling myself that since December. And now ithadto be today…or else I was going to lose him. “I’m really sorry, Izzy,” he’d said less than twelve hours ago. I’d been curled up under my covers, phone pressed to my ear. “But I’m not happy in this love-you-in-the-dark place anymore. I’ve tried, but it’s been six months.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Are you breaking things off by quoting Adele?” I whispered.
“It’s an amazing song,” he offered after a moment, then exhaled over the line. “No, I’m not breaking it off with you.” He paused. “But I don’t know what else to do. Please tell her tomorrow…or it has to be over.”
“It’s barely begun,” I countered. “We’re just hanging out.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “We’re just hanging out, and it’s killingme.”
Then he’d told me good night and ended the call.
“Why the family emergency, though?” Grace asked, pulling me out of my head. “They probably think your grandmotherdied.”
“Because I thought it would sound suspicious if I were sick, too,” I said.
Grace smiled. “Isa, there are almost a thousand kids in our school. I bet a million others are sick today.”
I smiled back. “Double-check that math, G.” I laughed before adding, “Plus, they aren’tus.”
“Isa-and-Grace,” she translated, eyes shining.
“Yes,” I said. Isa and Grace, best friends forever.
Unless I finally tell her and it smashes everything to pieces,I thought, and as if she could read my mind, the brightness in her blue eyes dimmed.
“Okay, yeah, true.” Grace nodded. “You and me both being sick could smell suspicious.”
I wrinkled my nose at her use ofsmell,then poured myself a glass of orange juice. It was Tropicana, not Mrs.Barbour’s freshly squeezed elixir. In fact, her beloved industrial juicer was nowhere to be seen. Strange. The Barbour kitchen had always been clean but cluttered. Now, save for Grace’s pancake-making mess, the counters were bare. Juicer? Gone. Air fryer? Gone. KitchenAid mixer? Artfully rearranged in the far corner, looking like a prop. The Barbours loved cooking—Mrs.Barbour even let us take over the kitchen as kids—but it no longer looked like it. Their Nespresso machine was the only true holdout, and it was rarely used. “So, reluctantly circling back…,” I said. “What is this ‘kidnapping’ thing you mentioned?”
Grace grinned.
“You’ve set it all up?” I continued, trying to be casual and keep my flicker of excitement in my heart. “With James?”
In response, Grace burst into laughter. “James?” Her eyes were wide. “We’re not kidnappingJames!”
“Then who are we…,” I began, but then it dawned on me. I felt my face pale, all color draining down to my neck. “No.” I shook my head. “It can’t be him.”
“It needs to be him, Isa,” she said gently. “We miss him.”
I crossed my arms over my chest in protest. “We had game night with him a week ago.”
“It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same.”
