She made coffee, strong, tidying up while it brewed, and was standing at the counter taking her first sip when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Alexa appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing a Georgia Volleyball t-shirt and shorts. Her blonde hair was piled into a messy bun, her face was bare, and she had the slightly shell-shocked expression of someone who was replaying the previous twelve hours and couldn’t quite believe what her memory was telling her.
“Morning,” Ellie said.
“Morning.” Alexa looked at the coffee. “Is there enough for two?”
“There’s enough for twelve. Help yourself.”
Alexa poured a mug, wrapping both hands around it, and leaned against the counter opposite Ellie. They stood in comfortable silence for a minute, drinking, the kitchen cool but bright around them.
“So,” Alexa said eventually. “Last night got a little wild.”
Ellie smiled. “A little.”
“Yeah.”
Ellie took a sip of her coffee. “So was that the full spring break experience?”
Alexa laughed. “And some. I’d put it around eleven on a scale of one to ten.”
“Even spin the bottle?”
“Especially.” Alexa laughed. “You had fun?”
“Loved it. You? Any regrets?”
“No.” The answer came quickly and with absolute certainty. “No, I don’t regret it. Any of it.” She paused, and something flickered across her face that Ellie couldn’t quite read. “It was kind of amazing, actually.”
“It was kind of amazing.”
“You and Becca are…” Alexa shook her head. “I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, so just… You’re really inspiring. The way you are together, even when you’re with other people. There’s this thing between you that never goes away. I could feel it all night.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Ellie meant it. “Is Mia up?”
Alexa let out a short laugh. “Mia is absolutely not up. Mia is face-down and making sounds that suggest she might not be up untilTuesday. She isn’t a morning person.” Alexa looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Or a midday person either, thinking about it.”
“Becca’s the same. They must be the same species.” Ellie put her mug down. “You want to go for a walk? Get some brunch? We can bring stuff back for the other two.”
“God, yes. Fresh air sounds incredible.”
They headed out through the gate in the hedge, down the short path to the beach. The morning was beautiful: white sand, emerald water, the sky a deep, cloudless blue. It was quiet on their stretch, just a few walkers and a guy throwing a ball for a dog in the distance. They walked at the water’s edge, the waves washing over their feet, talking about everything except the night before, topics like the water temperature, how different this beach was from the chaos of PCB, Alexa’s plans for after graduation, Ellie’s work in Austin. The conversation flowed easily, like they were firm friends and not just last night’s entertainment.
They found a cafe at the edge of town and ate outside, Ellie’s treat. Before they left they loaded up with takeout for the casualties, an extra-large orange juice each and a box of pastries.
They were about halfway back along the beach, the house visible in the distance, when Alexa slowed and then stopped.
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you about something?” She was looking out at the water, not at Ellie, and her voice had changed, the breezy confidence stripped back to something more vulnerable. “I know I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours, which makes this ridiculous, but I don’t have anyone else I can ask. Not about this.”
“Of course.” Ellie turned to face her. “What’s going on?”
Alexa sat down on the sand, knees pulled up, and Ellie sat next to her, the takeout resting between them. They looked out at the Gulf together, the water flat and glittering, a pelican gliding low over the surface.
“It’s about Mia,” Alexa said.
