I still find it strange sometimes to see Eden like this. She was quiet at school, always choosing to stay out of the spotlight. Not now, though.
My eyes glide to Kiera. She looks different. Not in the “dyed her hair and got a tattoo” way. More like someone who finally learned to take life less seriously. She’s still fine-tuned muscle, but there’s a groundedness to her now. No more air of authority or scowling at everyone in thenear vicinity. Instead, she sits back in her chair, arm draped across the table, listening with a soft half-smile.
I see Jenna waving me over with enthusiasm. Everyone turns, and I give my best “casual but not trying too hard” wave.
Eden bounds up, still mid-laugh. “Sloane! You made it. And you brought—“ she glances at my hands. ”—yourself. Perfect.”
“I brought my sparkling personality,” I say. Jenna giggles. Kiera just nods in my direction, eyes kind and maybe a little wary. I get it.
Introductions are unnecessary, but Eden does them anyway, just for the performance. “You all know Sloane. Sloane, you know everyone.”
I settle in next to Jenna, who’s vibrating with excitement. Her hair’s tied back in a messy knot, flecks of grass still clinging to her shins. She leans over and whispers, “You’re cool with this, right? Me and Kiera?”
“Of course,” I whisper back.
Jenna beams, squeezing my arm. I catch Kiera glancing at us, but she looks away quickly, the tip of her ear turning a little red.
The rest of the group is Eden’s family. Pia is looking a lot better, and from what I hear, her temper has calmeddown. She’s walking the boundary of the backyard gently swaying little Meena. Todd is standing by Rick, but his attention is solely on his own family.
My parents will be over a little later to join in the fun too, which makes today feel like a big deal.
Eden’s mom swoops in with a tray of deviled eggs and distracts everyone by accidentally dropping half onto the patio. There’s a brief scramble of bodies. Eden’s dad appears out of nowhere with a broom and Becca with paper towels.
Kiera slides into the chair across from me, hands clasped politely. “So, Sloane,” she says, voice softer than I remember. “What have you been up to?”
I smile politely. “Mostly just work.” I don’t mention the crapshoot the past few years have been.
Kiera nods. “Same,” she replies, and I hate how weird this feels. We were friends at one point. Hell, we spent four years in the same school. Why do teenage hormones and adolescent bullshit always have to ruin things?
“Ah, the glamorous life of a soccer coach,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “Do they pay you in orange slices or actual currency?”
She grins. “Both. Some of these kids are scary good. I’d put money on them beating our old team.”
And that’s it. The tension evaporates and we chat away like two schoolgirls catching up. It’s nice.
The afternoon settles into a predictable rhythm of eating too much, making fun of Bella’s playlist and recounting old stories that get progressively more exaggerated with each telling. I keep an eye on Jenna and Kiera, but they’re genuinely sweet together. There’s a tenderness in the way Kiera fills Jenna’s plate and the way Jenna pokes Kiera’s side to make her laugh.
I’m halfway through my second glass of lemon water when Eden corners me, arms crossed and a look that means “we need to talk.”
“You’re being weird,” she says.
“I’m always weird,” I reply. “That’s my brand.”
“You know what I mean. Are you okay with Kiera being here? With her and Jenna?”
I squint at the sunlight, taking a long sip of my sparkling water before answering, “Honestly? I’m fine. It’s just…seeing everyone from my past moving forward reminds me I’ve been stuck on pause for too long.”
Eden’s eyes soften. “You’re not on pause. You’re, like, buffering. There’s a difference.”
I snort. “Is this a TED Talk?”
She punches my arm. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“I’m just realistic,” I say, but Eden shakes her head.
“You’re nostalgic,” she replies, and I don’t have a comeback for that because I think she’s right. I’ve always seen high school as my crowning glory. It was where I felt comfortable, accepted, and dare I say the ugly word…normal.
Eden sighs, then pulls me into a side hug. “You’re my favorite person, do you know that?”
