Page 45 of In Your Wake

Stepping further into his house—the house our late friend Seth grew up in—I’m instantly taken back to our teenage years, to summers filled with stolen beers, junk food, and a little bit of weed.

The walls seem to echo the sound of our laughter, and I swear I smell the freshly baked cookies Seth’s mom used to make while we huddled in the living room to play video games.

The sweet memory turns bitter when I remember what happened a few years later and what we all lost.

Beyond the love that still lingers, and the cozy vibe Hunter has created with his decorative touches and his good-natured energy, there’s an undertone of heartbreak, as if Seth’s death found its way here. As if, somehow, Seth is hanging around.

I notice the light in Spencer’s eyes dim as we walk through the house. He still doesn’t like being here. I guess it carries a lot of weight for him, too.

“I thought we were going out for lunch,” I say.

Spencer digs into the appetizers Hunter’s prepared that are spread out over the counter.

“Can’t let this go to waste,” Hunter answers, dipping a tortilla chip into some salsa. “Have some,” he suggests, pulling another hot plate from the stove. “It’s more chill here, anyway. And cheaper than going out.”

“Also, this way, Hunter can keep an eye on his girlfriend across the street.” Spencer smirks while chewing.

Hunter throws a chip at his head, but he ducks out of the way. “I’m not keeping an eye on her.”

“Sure you’re not. And this isn’t you stress-cooking, either,” Spencer teases, pointing to the abundance of snacks.

“I’ll have you know my emotions are perfectly in check,” Hunter bites back, but lowers his gaze. “I’m not stressed. Like at all.”

We notice his blush, and Spencer shoots me a knowing glance, finally catching on. “You had sex!” Spencer exclaims.

“What are you talking about?” Though Hunter uses his calmest voice, his eyes refuse to meet ours.

“You so did,” Spencer insists.

Hunter shrugs, then looks up, his face transformed with a massive grin, looking the happiest I’ve ever seen. “Okay. I did,” he admits shyly.

“Holy shit. You should have said so!” I say, gripping Hunter’s shoulder. “We’d have gone out without you so you could do your thing with your new lady.”

“Actually, we needed a break,” Hunter replies. “We unpacked a lot last night. We need the rest.”

“I bet you do, you horny bastard. How long were you celibate for again?” I taunt, gently shoving him. I still can’t understand how someone can withhold from sex on purpose for months, but leave it to Hunter to set that sort of goal and reach it.

Spencer laughs, then bites into another chip. “Way to end your oath, man.”

Hunter rolls his eyes and shakes his head, grabbing a plate. “Okay, if you’re both done. Let’s go eat this outside.”

We step out onto the porch and settle at the table. I peer out toward the small pond, railroaded by the same memory that’s been haunting me for days, the one I’d shoved down so far deep in my subconscious I was sure it would never resurface.

While I’m entertained by Max’s repeated failed attempts at skipping a rock across the still ocean water, I rub my thumb over the smooth surface of the one I’m holding.

“It’s no use,” she complains, lowering herself to sit on the sand. “I’ll never get the hang of this.”

I laugh, sitting beside her. “Of course you will.”

She has her hair in adorable pigtails today. I’ve tugged them a few times, earning an elbow or two in the gut. “What makes you so sure?”

“’Cause if you don’t, there’s no way we can be friends,” I say, nudging her shoulder with mine.

She glares at me through narrowed eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. I refuse to be seen with someone who can’t even skip a rock.” I tip my chin up, acting all smug. “That would suck for my rep.”

She rolls her round blue eyes at me, shaking her head, a faint blush coloring her freckled cheeks. “I hate you,” she says, then sighs. “I’m going to miss this.”