Page 31 of The Lost Book of First Loves

Xander had been a steady comfort to her throughout the memorial service. Simply knowing he was there, that he had flown across the world to support her through her grief, had meant so much.

Still, she had been so busy and so consumed with her own grief to reallytalkto him.

“We’re here now, though. Both of us spending at least the next month in the same zip code,” he said.

“And it’s all because of your aunt Sylvia’s bad hip,” she said with a rueful smile. “Somehow it doesn’t feel quite right to thank her.”

“Probably not.”

The server came over to take their beverage orders before Ali could say anything else.

They both looked through the menus, interrupted a few times by friends who stopped at their table to say hello.

As much as Ali had been looking forward to seeing him, she couldn’t help thinking something felt... off.

It wasn’t awkward, so much as not quite as easy as usual. They couldn’t seem to find their typical conversational rhythm, as if they were dancers who had both forgotten the steps.

The realization left her sad, but she tried to convince herself it was only a momentary glitch in the matrix of their friendship. She hoped it wasn’t because they were growing apart as they both grew older.

Their life experiences had certainly diverged, especially the past four years. He had earned his bachelor’s in communications three years after high school, but had spent the intervening years traveling the world, while she was finishing up her undergraduate and moving on to law school.

“So what happened with Giselle?” she finally asked. “Was it, um, mutual?”

Ali had dutifully subscribed, followed and liked all his videos on the channel, but she had secretly admitted to herself that something about Giselle got under her skin.

Maybe it was the way she tended to touch Xander like she was marking her territory or the flirtatious looks she would give the camera that Ali sensed were intended for the camera operator, not for the audience.

She tended to skip large sections of those videos and didn’t have much to say in the comment sections.

“Mostly,” he finally answered. “I still care about her, but we both decided we wanted different things out of life.”

What did she want? And what did you want? And how were they different?

In the old days, Ali would have felt completely comfortable asking him anything. For some reason, Giselle seemed a particularly awkward topic.

She was almost relieved when a tall, gorgeous guy, who was apparently on his way out of the café, stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the two of them.

“Look at this!” Clint Maclean, her high school crush, gazed at the two of them. “It’s Ali and the Brainiac! Have I somehow stepped into a time machine? Talk about old times! I feel like I should be carrying a lunch room tray with my usual burrito and those nasty cafeteria french fries.”

Xander, she saw, looked annoyed at the interruption before he gave a polite smile.

“Clint. Hi. I didn’t realize you were in town. Last I heard, you were fighting fires up in Alaska.”

“I was. It was great money. But I’ve been back a while helping on the family ranch since my dad got sick. He died last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked exactly the same, Ali thought. Same slightly shaggy hair that looked great under a Stetson, same tight Wranglers, same cowboy boots.

He had been the star running back on the football team and captain of the baseball team and had always treated Ali with just enough casual flirtation to keep her hanging on, hoping he might someday ask her out.

“Why are you two back?” he asked.

“My great-aunt broke her hip and needed someone to stay with her for a few weeks while she recovers,” Xander said. “I was between projects so it made sense.”

“And I’m here for the summer,” Ali said. “I’m studying for the bar exam.”

“Is that right? You’re staying at The Painted Sky?”

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