Page 131 of From Now On

She nods enthusiastically. “Really nice. Allison and I got our nails done.” She waves her pale blue fingernails in my direction. “And Landon’s gig went great. The band’s really improving.”

“That’s great.”

Harlow reaches out and snags one of the donuts out of the box I carried over to the couch.

My best friend hums happily as she chews. “They’d better have donuts as good as Holey Moley’s wherever the hell I end up moving next month.”

“They definitely have donuts this good in New York, so you’ll have to come visit me,” I say.

“You know I will,” she replies, licking some chocolate frosting off her finger.

“Any updates on whenwherever the hellis getting figured out?”

Harlow shakes her head. “I’ve applied for a few positions, but haven’t heard back from any of them. The Garrisons said I can stay with them whenever, for however long I want. But… I’m really waiting on Conor.”

“When is the draft?”

That detail didn’t come up during Hunter’s hockey explanation.

“End of June,” Harlow answers.

“And…if he doesn’t get drafted?” I ask tentatively.

She exhales. “No clue. It’s his big dream, you know? Like New York for you. I’m not worried he won’t be able to find a job doing something else. But I am worried what not making it might do to him. To us. I did decide—I’m going to follow him.”

“You are?” I’m surprised, and I know it comes through in my voice.

Harlow’s independent and opinionated and passionate about marine biology. I assumed she’d prioritize her career, and they’d do long distance.

“Yeah. Wherever he gets drafted, I’ll go. If he doesn’t get drafted, we’ll figure it out then.”

“Wow.”

“You think I’m crazy,” she surmises.

“No, I don’t.” I’m a little envious of her certainty, actually. Ofhowcertain she is, even in the midst of uncertainty. That’s a scary leap of faith, no matter how much you love someone. “I think it’s romantic. But I figured you’d go on some crazy expedition to see seals in Antarctica or survey salmon in Alaska.”

Harlow half smiles. “Maybe I will, one day. But right now, this is what it feels like I should do.”

“Maybe Conor will get drafted to the Rangers or the Islanders, and we’ll end up in the same city.”

She applauds. “Look at you, knowing the team names. Part of your New York research?”

“Sort of,” I say.

Truthfully, I looked up tickets yesterday morning, after Hunter left, as part of some fantasy he might visit me in the city and we could go see a hockey game together. He pays attention to my art. Listens to the podcast I recommended. I wanted to reciprocate in some way, to show interest in something that’s important to him.

“I haven’t mentioned it to the Garrisons,” Harlow says, playing with a tassel on the corner of one of the pillows. “They’re supportive of our relationship—well, supportive-ish, counting Landon—but it’s still weird. Talking about Conor with them, discussing them with Conor, it’s like being the negotiator between two countries at war. That’s dramatic, I know, but being stuck in the middle is—” She stops talking and pulls her phoneout of her pocket. “Speaking of Conor. One sec, I’m just going to let him know I’m?—”

Shocking both of us, I reach out and pluck Harlow’s phone out of her hand.

She stares at me, arm and eyebrows both raised.

“I had sex with Hunter. Two—no three—times. More, if you count oral.”

Silence.

“You heard me, right?” I don’t see how she possibly couldn’t have, she’s sitting two feet away, but the quiet is making me twitchy.

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