Page 59 of Hypothetical Heart
“Do you think Evie and Eloise will be okay?” I whisper into the darkness. I know Logan’s not asleep because his leg is sticking out of the opening, kicking the ground to keep the hammock moving.
“This isn’t the first fight they’ve had, and it surely won’t be the last.”
“They fight over the same things over and over again,” I sigh. It feels like a never-ending cycle.
“I’m sure they’ll work something out,” is all Logan says. He pulls his leg back in the tent before zipping it closed. We both drift asleep.
18
Iwake up with my arms around Winnie, and the best part is, it doesn’t even feel wrong anymore. Every wonder of the world has brought me to this place repeatedly, posing it as an accident.
Every time she stretches, her tank top rises up her stomach. The sweatshirt she wore to bed last night is no doubt tangled within the blankets somewhere, and I only know because I felt her sit up in the middle of the night, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere at our feet.
At one point a bit earlier this morning, I heard the sliding glass door creep open before I heard Jameson whisper, “Oh, they must be in there.”
Once Winnie wakes up, she’s quick to get out of the hammock and make her way into the house. Genevieve and Jameson are in the living room, sitting next to one another on the couch with coffee cups in their hands. The only thing that would make them seem more like an elderly couple would be if they were passing a crossword puzzle back and forth. I wouldn’t even put it past them.
“Same plan?” Winnie asks, sitting on the ottoman in front of them.
“Obviously,” Genevieve answers. “It’s tradition.”
“The plan” is sitting on the beach for the majority of the day before we head to dinner. A lot of our days at the beach house are the same, which makes it easier. My favorite vacations are the ones where no time is spent stressing about what to do or where to go.
We’ve become so accustomed to this small town near Myrtle Beach that we don’t even need a plan anymore. It’s just called a plan so that Genevieve doesn’t go off the deep end.
“How’s your arm?” I ask Jameson.
He shrugs and sets his coffee cup on the end table. “Fine.”
“Are you going to forgive Eloise now?” Winnie asks Genevieve.
She leans back into the cushions as if contemplating. “She’s already forgiven. We talked last night.”
Jameson stands from the couch and walks into the kitchen. I follow, giving the girls time to talk.
“Gen actually talked to Eloise last night?” I ask, turning on the coffee pot.
“She couldn’t sleep because the argument was eating her alive. It was close to three in the morning when she went to Eloise’s room, and she was also awake. They talked and everything seems good.” Jameson takes a bit of the apple he grabbed from the bowl in the middle of the island.
“Well, that was easy.” I was worried this argument was going to turn into an all-out civil war, one that I would be forced to break up because I’m the peacekeeper.
“Not for her,” Jameson sighs, referring to his girlfriend.
“How so?” Genevieve was the one who went to Eloise in the middle of the night to talk.
We both sit. “She was having a hard time deciding whether she was hell-bent on defending me and proving a point or if she was more concerned about keeping her friendship intact.”
Before Jameson, Genevieve poured all of her love into her friendships because she didn’t have any other relationship dynamic she cared as much about. Now that she’s dating Jameson, it’s become increasingly difficult for her to come to terms with the fact that she is allowed to give some of that love to her boyfriend.
“She’s worried that she’s betraying her friendships over a boy she’s known a fraction of the time,” I realize. Jameson nods.
“To be clear, I never expect her to choose me over you guys,” he clarifies. Jameson knows how much Genevieve cares about the friendships she’s clung to her entire life, and that’s all she’s ever wanted.
“It’s okay if you do at times,” I tell him. “She might be our best friend, but she’s also your girlfriend. Different relationships require different expectations.”
“When I first came to Fairwood, I joined this friend group because of you, and throughout that time, I formed smaller friendships with everyone else before Genevieve ever became my girlfriend. I don’t just want to be an extension of you all just because I’m attached to Genevieve. Your guys’ friend group is something important and special, and I want to be a part of it.”
The sheer emotion of his voice almost causes a lump to form in my throat. “We all want that too.”
