Page 63 of Friends with Benefits

Knowing something is absolutely not the same as accepting it.

Because she knows that she likes it.

Her mouth on Theo.

His mouth on her.

But she’llneveraccept it.

Imogen, already in line, waves her over, and she weaves awkwardly through the queue to reunite with her sister. Imogen’seyes are fixated on her phone, likely checking wait times in the Disneyland app.

“Sorry,” Evie says. “I got swept up in a neon-orange riptide.”

“The Hendersons? Oh. I assumed you and Theodore ditched me to scandalize Mr. Toad,” Imogen teases, eyes not shifting from her screen. “Did you see Aunt Mir’s email?”

Imogen slaps her phone into Evie’s palm.

Subject: avia’s b’nai mitzvah

It’s a visceral reaction, the flip of Evie’s stomach that precedes nausea. She tries to recall the last time she saw Avia Deleve-Gomez. Remembers it was here, in this very park. Miri and Mateo traveled from the Upper West Side to the Happiest Place on Earth for Avia’s sixth birthday. Evie, twenty and spending her summer at the bungalow, drove to Anaheim, desperate to catch up with Naomi’s younger sister. Desperate for any connection to Naomi.

So desperate, she agreed to take Avia on the teacups—who then vomited all over her vintage combat boots. Motion sickness. It runs in the family. Then she learned through the aunt she barely knew that Naomi wassummering in Canneswith Jean-Paul. Evie excused herself to dry-heave in a public bathroom before fleeing the premises to crochet blankets with and be comforted by the person who she sometimes pretended was her mom.

Lori.

Evie scans the email for the date.

Early January.

Six weeks from now.

“You’re thinking about it,” Imogen says, voice flat.

“What?”

“Going.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

Evie hands Imogen’s phone back as they near the front of the line, then pulls out her own to confirm that the email is in her inbox, too. Forwarded with a note.We miss you. Evie swallows a lump in her throat. Miri stays in touch. Sends birthday cards and the occasional surface-level text. So she knew it was coming, this invitation. And she always intended to say no. But—

“How many?”

A cast member cuts off her minor spiral, directing Evie and Imogen to dots to stand on until their train arrives. It’s not until they’re on the ride and going up, up, up in darkness toward the light that her sister speaks again.

“Even if I wanted to subject myself to that, I can’t really dip into savings right now. For the flight. Sloane wants to move back to Denver.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Evie grips the lap bar, her big sister brain activating on their ascent to the apex and natural light. “I’m sorry, Genny. Breakupssuck.”

“Where exactly did you hear that we’re breaking up?”

“You’re going to try to make long-distance work?”

---