Page 61 of Promise Me Sunshine

“That’s…the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

He laughs. “No, it’s not. Think of it this way: relationships have phases and they’re supposed to. If you’re gonna be in a relationship with someone for life, it’s like driving from one end of the country to the other. If you do the whole thing in first gear, you’re gonna overheat and cook your engine.”

“Lifetime New Yorker here. Never even touched a gas pedal in my life.”

“Okay, fine. Then think about…okay…going to the pool. What’s the first thing you do when you get there? Maybe you’re the type who cannonballs into the pool? But how many cannonballs can one person really do in an afternoon? After a while, you gotta do other stuff. You move to the shade. You read a book. Eat lunch. Take a nap. Whatever. Turns out there’s more to do at the pool than just cannonballs.”

“And there’s more than one thing to do in a relationship than screw each other’s brains out?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t find that at all disappointing?”

He laughs and takes another drink of my beer. “I mean, everything is vaguely disappointing if you directly compare it to some hypothetical white-hot sex you’re not currently having. But yeah. Companionship…it’s incredible if done right. It’s satisfying. And isn’t that ultimately what everyone wants? To feel fulfilled?”

“Known.”

“Of course.”

A teenaged girl on a skateboard comes barreling toward our picnic table. Miles half stands, reaches up, and secures her by the elbow before she takes herself out. “You all right?” he asks.

She jumps back, scoops her skateboard up, and holds it against her chest. “Yes,” she breathes, clearly just having fallen disastrously in love with Miles. “Thank you.”

He nods and sits back down, turning his attention back toward me. The girl drifts away, looking back over her shoulder as she goes.

My mind is processing what it looks like when someonefalls in love with Miles. “So, then, why did you two breakup?”

“Hm?” His eyes bounce from the ocean to me.

“Oh, come on. Give me the deets on the ex. When and why and who?”

“It’s complicated.”

I can’t help but notice that’s not amind your own business.“Try.”

“Why’d we break up? Well, the fight where we actually broke up was because she really,reallywanted to go to Paris with me.”

“Oh, she’s one ofthose.”

“One of whats?”

“The kind who wants to go to Paris on a trip with her boyfriend someday. Yuck!”

“I can’t tell if you’re—”

“She probably wanted to go on dates and wanted you to remember her birthday too, huh? What an asshole. Sounds like you really dodged a bullet. “

“Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“Sorry! Yes. I’m all ears.” I fold my fingers under my chin and wait expectantly.

“She wanted to go to Paris. Romantic getaways and stuff. And I don’t have anything against any of that. It’s just that she wanted to gothere.And I wanted to comehere.And get to know Reese and Ainsley.”

“Ah. It was right around when your dad had his first stroke.”

He nods. “She told me that it wasn’t that I chosethem.It was that I didn’t chooseher…I guess she was right.”

I sit up straight and my hands come back to the table. “Wait, why was she right?”

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