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| CAPE MAY |

LUNCH & LATTES

My duffle is packed on my bed. I do one last sweep and grab the condoms from my bedside. The box hasn't been touched since Thanksgiving. I smile to myself. I kept my promise.

Hate that I find myself wondering if he did.

Prob not.

I'm low-key used to the flight now. Well, it feels more ordinary than last time. Last time I made this trip I had a handful of information that assured me I was really flying to my doom. This time, well, same. But in a better way.

Instead of worrying about a bonfire, I worry about the man next to me. He's been playing a crossword for three hours and he's still missing half the clues. I'm playing over his shoulder and I've already solved it twice. It's Elvis, you idiot!

It makes my eyes heavy and before I know it I'm falling forward. You know, that weird falling asleep sensation. I blink and the plane is landing. My half-poured ginger ale has left condensation all over my tray table.

"Trays away and please return your seats to an upright position." The attendant says.

I straighten up and wipe the drool from my face. My mouth is dry and I know I must have slept with it open. I down the ginger ale and toss the plastic cup in the trash when it comes down the aisle.

Here we go.

I wheel my carry-on straight through baggage claim. The automatic doors open and close, open and close. Flurries fly in when people walk out. I button and belt my pea coat and wrap the scarf tighter around my neck. The flurries land like frozen bites on my face as I walk into the mild snowstorm.

Brooks pulls up to the Arrivals curb in his old pick-up truck. Him leaning out the window, hair covered with white, smiling at me could be a snapshot from 10 years ago.

No. I remind myself. Not the same Brooks.

He's out on the curb next to me. Silent but smiling like he's just seeing something really funny for the first time. Brooks tosses my duffle into his truck and I climb into the passenger seat, moving the Edge hoodie into my lap. His car smells like his old bedroom –like him.

I just allow myself one weak ass moment. An ogle fest. I'm disappointed in myself tbh but sure as shit not disappointed in him. His hair is longer than it was one month ago in Seattle. It almost grazes his shoulders now, perfect curtains framing his perfect fucking lips and smile and teeth that are blinding me right now. He leans in across the center console and cups my chin in his hand.

"Missed you." He moves so fucking close but doesn't kiss me. He knows it KILLS ME.

"You too." Shit! I can't help myself. High key into it. I pull my face free from his hand. I don't need this kiss.

"Do I still have to drop you off?" He asks, exaggerating a frown face.

"Yes. Please. You know they'll hunt us down if you don't. Plus, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I know, I know. Can't keep Trix waiting." He rolls his eyes.

"My dutiful chauffeur." I quip.

"I'll drop your bag off at your parents' house?" Brooks asks.

"Sure, thanks," I say.

He drops me at the café on the main strip downtown. This place looks like a postcard. Yuck. Warmth washes over me when I step inside. Warmth and cinnamon sticks. I think I just swallowed a candle.

"EM!" Trix shouts as soon as I step in the door.

"Hey!" Meg follows.

Trix and Meg are already sitting down in a corner booth, waiting for me. I slide in next to them, dusting the table with snowflakes as I take off my scarf.

"Hi guys," I laugh.

"Still snowing, then?" Meg says, looking at my scarf.

"Always." I nod.

"Well, I love the snow. It's so charming." Trix is eye-rolling at us. "It's so festive."

"It sure is," I nod. She beams.

They drawl on and on about Travis and Nate and their perfect nights and perfect days and just how perfect everything in Cape May has been the last four months I've been away.

We order lunch and I'm halfway picking through my salad when I stop listening to them. Not on purpose. I'm not a total bitch (yea right). I just find it hard to focus on their conversation. It's like I'm here just for show. Maybe that's fine.

Meg leads us to the lounge couch and orders us a round of lattés. I'm three sips in when my attention is caught by the words New Years. I look up and my face must appear startled.

"Emmy," Trix whines. "Have you literally even been listening to us?"

"Hmm. Yes, of course." I lie into my coffee cup.

"You just got here and you're already not here." Meg echoes. DEEP. She knows. She may play with her hair and stare at her coffee, but she knows.

"I am listening... You're talking about New Years and speaking of... I may have plans for us all." I manage a smile.

Well, I'm sure it looked more a sort of pained grimace but I'm sure they're too curious to notice.

They squeal. A surefire sign my words had the desired effect.

"Perfect timing as we were just saying our plans fell through. Alex broke up with Brittany. The weekend was supposed to be at her cabin."

"Brittany? What happened to Krissy?" I ask.

"Krissy, who was she?" Meg looks at Trix.

"I think that blonde from the summer?" She shrugs in a who-cares kind of way.

"No that was Katie," Trix says, matter-of-factly. She takes a long sip from her mug.

"Oh yea, Katie," Meg laughs.

"I liked Katie," I say, shrugging. "Anyway, task at hand is New Years," I backpedal. "Or aren't you two even listening?"

"Good one," Meg laughs.

"Course we're listening," Trix rolls her eyes. "What may these plans of yours be?"

OK. Here goes.

"Well, it's sort of a ...secret party." I begin. Gotta let them stew in the anticipation a bit longer. If I know Trix and Meg at all, they're not expecting plans of this caliber.

"A secret party?" Trix repeats my words. She tries to sound skeptical but her face betrays her. Really, she's shit at poker.

"My father was invited really; invitation from some fancy person he keeps in touch with from school. It's in Vail." I pause.

"Vail?!" Trix gawks, eyes going wide.

"Like, Colorado?" Meg asks.

"Like Vail, Colorado." I laugh at them.

You know, I take in the moment. Take in the two of them clinging to their coffee mugs like lifelines as they hang on my every word. I envy them. Their blatant ignorance-is-bliss/my-boyfriend-is-perfect/what's-the-NYE-plan mentality. It's a state of mind really. Don't get me wrong, I love them to death. Pretty basic though.

"Tell us more!" Trix nods.

"It's a Roaring 20s party. Secluded. Secret Party. Think speakeasy-esque. Midnight Prohibition."

"At some resort? In a hotel?" Meg's eyes are lighting up. She loves a good party.

"Slow down, girl. At a resort, but not in a hotel. It's a private spot somewhere on the mountain. I don't actually know where exactly–"

"Like in the wilderness?" Meg asks.

"No! Not the wilderness, freak," I laugh.

"Not the wilderness. The Mountains." Trix corrects.

"Doesn't seem very safe," Meg says.

"We will behave," Trix says, rolling her eyes. "We will roar responsibly."

"It's a ski-in/ski-out château at a club on a resort mountain. Something like that," I continue. "Well anyway, my parents aren't going but we have the invitation. It is invite only."

"Sounds boujee AF. I am SO in!" Trix shrieks.

"OK. OK I am in!" Meg caves.

"Perfect. Tell the guys?" I ask, looking at Trix.

"Sure, sure. All the guys?" She looks at me, all coy and shit.

"Yes," I laugh and elbow her. "All the guys."

"Still not hating a certain someone again, I take it?" Meg smirks.

"Astute," I say.

"Are you ever going to tell us what happened on Thanksgiving?" Trix asks.

"Wait, wait! What happened on Thanksgiving?" Meg says, suddenly interested.

"Exaccctly!" Trix laughs, stressing the word. "What didn't happen? A certain boy visited a certain girl on Thanksgiving Eve and stayed for Thanksgiving."

"More like he just showed up," I say, suddenly bashful.

"Showed up? Like surprised you? We are talking about Brooks, right?" Meg asks, clearly in disbelief. "Surprised you just because?"

"Yea, I mean just because he had to be out west. We had Thanksgiving... as friends. It was casual." I smirk.

"Ugh!!" Trix rolls her eyes. "You two, casual? Please."

"We can be casual," I say, defensive. Challenge me. "What? We can be!"

"You two will never be casual," Meg agrees, giving me the same exasperated look as Trix.

"Trix," I start.

"Don't Trix me," she says, folding her arms across her chest. Meg smirks.

"I doubt Travis is hounding Brooks right now about Thanksgiving," I say, rolling my eyes.

"You don't know that, Emmy. The guys could be talking about you right now," Trix insists.

"Just, would you, let us worry about us," I laugh. "It's hard enough dealing with Brooks alone."

"I will never understand you guys," Meg says, shaking her head.

"Me either." I laugh. "But what about you two?"

"What about us?" Trix asks, smirking.

"You're both like already wifed up without the ring," I say, shrugging.

"Your point?" Meg asks.

"Where's the ring?" I shake my head.

Trix and Meg laugh me off but not before I catch the look they share together. Someone knows something. Maybe they both know the same thing.

"What? Are Travis and Nate waiting to see which can hold off longer?" I tease.

"Funny." Meg rolls her eyes.

"We're in no rush, Em," Trix agrees.

"Babe, come on. You two are worse than them," I say, rolling my eyes to Meg. "Y'all have been dating for 10 years. Whatcha waiting for?"

"I guess nothing," she shrugs. Trix rolls her eyes again, but I can see it.

She wants the ring. I'm sure she'll get it in no time. Meg too.