Page 51 of When We Were Young

“Hey, are you okay?”

I nod quickly and take a few seconds before I speak, because if I open my mouth immediately, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together.

“I’m fine. I just... you’re kind of my only friend, really, and when you said best friend...” My voice catches. “It made me think of Sylvia. It’s been almost five years, and when I get these bursts of grief, they hurt just as much as they did the day she died. Fortunately, they occur less often now than back then.”

“I'm sorry,” she says gently. “I can’t imagine what that would feel like.”

“Yeah. When we met at college orientation, it was like we instantly clicked. For her, that wasn’t a big deal, since she made friends easily, but for me...” I shake my head. “I didn’t have many. A few casual ones, maybe. But Sylvia was different. She was like a sister to me.”

“But you have Lyndsay, right?”

I roll my eyes.

“You’ve heard the Lyndsay stories. She’s a wanderer. She comes home when things get bad with Mom, but otherwise she’s off somewhere in the world.”

“Well,” Georgie says, nudging my shoulder, “your friend count is about to skyrocket. You don’t join this group without getting all of us. We’re a package deal.”

I smile, but my mind drifts—uninvited—to Holden. I’m not sure that’s something that we can fix. Of course, I remember how he made me feel in college for that short time—seen, beautiful, as if I mattered.

The problem is, I also remember how my stomach twisted, my chest ached, and my heart broke when I saw him take another girl upstairs to his room at a frat party.

I know I was the one who called things off—I had to, in order to protect him—but it was still immensely painful to realize he was just like any other guy in the frat house when it came to women.

Maybe I imagined the boy from the library all along. Either that, or I saw what I wanted to see and not who he really was.

“Hey there.”

We both look up.

Harrison stands in front of us, Layla’s hand tucked into his.

“Hey, Harrison. Hi, Ladybug,” Georgie says, opening her arms.

Layla runs right into them, and Georgie hugs her tight, making her giggle.

“Hi,” I say a little awkwardly.

Layla studies me for half a second. Then comes in hot for a hug. She stuns me, but I hug her back. When she pulls away, her eyes dart between Harrison and me.

“Oh! Lizzie, you didn’t get to meet Uncle Harry because Uncle Holden was acting crazy that day.”

“Harrison,” he cuts in with a smile. “Please call me Harrison. Only Ladybug gets to call me Harry.” He winks at Layla, and the adoration with which she looks at him is darling.

“That’s because he’s my favorite uncle,” Layla says proudly. “And he loves me the most.”

Harrison chuckles. “Remember, we talked about that? You can have favorites, but aunts and uncles, moms and dads can’t.”

“I said what I said,” she answers with a grin.

He shakes his head playfully.

“Is Delaney at work today?” I ask.

“Yeah. Layla and I were just heading over to get ice cream.”

Without encouragement from any of us, Layla lets go of his hand and heads straight for Simon.

She squats next to him, and he looks up—surprised at first, then his cheeks immediately turn pink.