Page 84 of Sunshine

Jason calls one night during our third viewing ofThe Family Stone, and Annie pauses it while I answer, jumping off the couch to make a new bag of popcorn.

“Hey you,” I say, smiling into the phone.

“Hey, babe.” His warm voice vibrates back. “What are you doing right now?”

“Watching a movie with Annie,” I say, eyes flicking to the TV screen.

He sighs. “Just curious if you could sneak away.” The way he says it, I know what he wants. And while I wouldn’t mind a spin in the back seat of his Mustang, we both know I’d never bail on Annie like that.

“Sorry,” I say. “Maybe tomorrow?”

He chuckles. “I’ll be in Foxborough with the boys. But, hey, do you have plans the night after?”

“New Year’s Eve?” I clarify.

“Yeah.”

I shake my head as if he can see me. “Nope!”

“I was thinking we could have a little camp out at the beach. With Wells?”

My heart does an involuntary flip. Camping at the beach? With Wells? For Jason to suggest this, it must be proof things are back to normal. Last summer, after I graduated and Jason and Wells finished their sophomore years at Texas A&M, things between the three of us felt better than they had the whole year prior. It almost felt like we were totally back to normal, but I still always felt an undercurrent of fear that Jason might interpret something between Wells and me astoofriendly.

Thankfully, Wells also seemed to navigate carefully. I think we both understood that our pull-back from each other was a necessary sacrifice, a way to show Jason that he had nothing to worry about, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. All three of us spending the night together on the beach feels like the first clear indication that we might be back to how things used to be, and I’m thankful because Idocare about my friendship with Wells, just like I know he cares about it, too.

“Oh,” I say excitedly. “That sounds perfect.”

I can hear his smile on the other end of the line. “Great. I’ll pick you up around five.”

Annie walks back into the room, a fresh bowl of popcorn in hand. “Sounds good,” I tell Jason. “Can’t wait. See you then!”

I hang up the phone and set it back on the coffee table, turning my attention to Annie. “Sorry about that,” I say.

“Jason?” she asks, and I nod.

She smiles. “Are you going to marry him?”

I laugh, shrugging. “Do you think I should?”

“Mama says you will,” she says simply before reaching for the remote and pressing play.

I settle back into the couch next to her, but I’m distracted. Something about her words digs uncomfortably in my mind. Marrying Jason feels likely at this point—it’s something we always talk about as we discuss what life looks like after college. But I’m still wary of the collection of tiny cracks in our relationship, the proof that we may not be ready yet. That there might be some issues under the surface ofusworth looking at a little more closely.

I only hope we figure it out before it’s too late.

Jason ringsthe doorbell just before five on New Year’s Eve. Barry answers the door and shakes his hand before my mother cuts in to hug him so tight he grunts out a laugh. I kiss Annie goodbye, promising to be home by lunch the next day, and join him out on the porch.

Wells’s truck is parked along the curb in front of the house, the two-toned white and red paint as familiar as my own front walkway. I didn’t expect to see him yet—but I suppose it makes sense that we’d all drive out to Scorpion Bay together. I make quick work of getting into the back, squeezing in next to two stacked coolers, bags of groceries, and camping supplies. I spot a tent bag on the floor and silently pray there’s more than one.

A thread of anxiety has been curling through me all morning in anticipation of this campout. It’s not that I’m nothappy to see Wells—I am. But after going to bed last night with thoughts of this whole excursion at the forefront of my mind, I realized my anxiety around it is born from a place rooted in Jason’s insecurities, not from anything Wells or I have done wrong.

It helps relieve the small traces of guilt I’ve felt over this last year. But spending a night with Jason and Wells alone, camped out on a desolate beach with all the alcohol I’m sure is tucked into one or both of these coolers, feels like tempting a dragon.

Wells turns in his seat when I’m buckling myself in. “Hey,” he says with warmth in his eyes.

“Hi,” I say back. “Good to see you.”

I sound almost formal, and I hate it. But if Wells notices, he doesn’t show it. “You too,” he says before turning back around. “Ready?” his gaze jumps to Jason, who’s bouncing in his seat and adjusting the vents.

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