Page 66 of Over the Edge

“So, how are you?” he asks and it manages to sound light and not accusatory. It’s not that I expected it to, but it was definitely a fear.

“Honestly? Tired and homesick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You sounded excited about the move when you were getting ready for it. I’ve always pictured you as this person who could live anywhere.”

“I always thought when I left, I would feel great…you know?” The admission awkwardly slips out of me before I can stop it. I guess I’ve been wanting to say it for a long time now.

“That’s exactly how I felt when we were freshmen. Remember how you guys called my dad for his chicken noodle soup recipe and made it for me on that hot plate you had to hide in your ottoman so the RA wouldn’t confiscate it?” To this day wehaven’t revealed that the recipe is just a very specific brand that we had to go to Whole Foods to find. “I was so sure I would love being away from my family and finally not having to fight my sisters for the bathroom. It just made me realize why I loved it so much.” He pauses then looks over toward the bar. “She told me you didn’t want to talk about it until after your vacation, but I have to ask. What are you thinking about the job offer?”

The question momentarily throws me for a loop. Over the last week in Hartsfall I’ve only been worried about music and my outings with Garrett. If I thought that writing would give me clarity on what I should do next, I was wrong.

“I’ll probably at least interview. It’s not like I actually got an offer,” I say, trying to dismiss the possibility so I’m not tempted to grasp for it. Still, Oliver and Quinn are here. Maybe that’s for the best? This could be our chance to work everything out, so if I do take the interview we’ll be good as new. We could go back to the familiar rom-com marathons and after work drinks with a side of office gossip.

“From what I heard, it’s a formality. I don’t want to push. I mostly wanted to say that it would be nice to have you back. It’s not the same,” he says, and my stomach tumbles. I want them to be happy, but knowing they miss me? It shouldn’t feel this good since I know that means they might ache the way I do at the memories.

“It can’t be all bad. You have Quinn. It seems like me being gone helped you guys figure things out,” I say, trying to convince us both.

I can’t help but wonder if they’ve felt something for each other for longer than they’ve been together and were holding back for my sake. Quinn wouldn’t. She’d tell me to my face, but Oliver would. If he can do something to make someone’s life easier, he does. It’s always been a problem for him at work, taking on too many projects or assisting his coworkers when they have anyquestions. He’s the guy you go to when you’re floundering or just need support. But it also means that he tends to never make himself the priority. It’s why we worked the way we did. Our people pleasing tended to cancel the other’s out, so we found a way to meet our needs without having to communicate all that much.

“Yeah, things are different…” he starts, and the fact that he’s not comfortable enough to say more tells me all that I need to know. Instead he changes subjects. “How’s your brother? Still good?”

“Yeah,” I say, and a true smile forms on my lips. “He’s also great at telling us when he’s not at his best, you know, which is something I never thought I’d be happy about. But the fact that he’s honest about it and not just trying to hide his bad days, it’s a huge relief.”

“You deserve to be happy. I know you’re saying that the city isn’t working out the way you planned but it seems other things are.” He makes it sound so simple.

Garrett and Quinn return, each holding two glasses of wine. Garrett settles in next to me while Quinn slides in right across the circular table next to Oliver.

She takes a sip and hums with approval as she sets it down. “So how exactly did you two go from not talking to this?”

“Quinn,” Oliver snaps.

“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to ask how the guy who didn’t show up to help her move is now on vacation with her?” she asks, brows arching.

“He helped. He sent movers,” I say then take a hasty sip of the pinot Garrett picked out for me.

“Well, the last time we talked, you weren’t all too happy with him,” she says, and it stings. Has it really been that long since we had a real conversation? It can’t be. I do the mental math over and over until I can’t ignore that she’s right.

“Don’t worry, she made me make it up to her,” Garrett says. “Really made me earn it.”

Quinn smiles but it looks more like she’s baring her teeth. “Good.”

The air goes stale as we all simultaneously reach for our glasses.

“As you can see, we’re all good now! What about you two?” I ask, desperate to keep the conversation moving.

Oliver and Quinn share a look then Oliver finally says, “It just sort of happened. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Yes,honey,” Quinn says. “But why stop there, tell them the whole story.”

“If you want them to know, why don’t you?” Oliver says as he leans back in his seat.

“Oh, because you tell it better.” Quinn leans forward and props her elbow on the table. “Really, I can’t do it justice.”

“Okay, so there was this concert we went to for my birthday which was a fucking disaster,” Oliver starts.

“And after she saved me from the port-a-potty, and we had missed the entire concert because of it, I had to buy her dinner.” Oliver says then reaches for his wine glass only to find it empty.

The tension in the air split the moment he detailed the panic that gripped him the moment he realized that he was locked into the port-a-potty at the outdoor concert venue.

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