Page 104 of Happiness for Beginners

“It’s a domino.” I shrugged.

“But, that’s what I was about to say,” Jake said. “I don’t have to hitch. I found a ride.”

I raised my eyebrows like a happy person would. “Oh! Great!”

“Turns out, Windy’s parents have another vacation house in Crested Butte. She’s renting a car in Riverton and driving out tomorrow.”

Arguably, I fixated on the wrong information first. “Windy’s parents have two vacation homes?”

Jake shrugged.

Then I hit the crux of it. “Windy is giving you a ride to Denver?”

Jake nodded, trying to read my face.

I brightened under the scrutiny. “Fantastic,” I said. “Then I’m off the hook.”

I confess I’d been holding out hope that it had all been a freakish misunderstanding. That despite everything everybody had said over and over, Windy and Jake might not be destined for each other, after all. That, somehow, despite every impossibility, this night, this trip—my life—could rewrite itself in front of my eyes.

Until those words.

Jake was going to the Rockies. With Windy. And I was going to a bar mitzvah. Alone.

I just nodded. It was all I could do.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Well,” I said, feeling like the oxygen was draining out of the hallway. “Look me up when you get back. I’d love to hear about those whales.”

“Definitely,” he said. It was time for him to go back to the party. But he didn’t leave. “Bet it’ll be a relief to have your car to yourself, huh?”

I manufactured another smile. “Yes. Yep. I can bust out all my Abba albums.”

He nodded toward the party. “Beckett’s about to DJ. I think he’s got some Abba.”

Was it an invitation? I just shook my head.

“Well,” he said then, looking down. “Thanks for the ride out, anyway. I had a great time.”

“Me, too.”

“And I’m glad you didn’t get killed in the wilderness.”

I nodded. “Right back atcha.”

“And sorry about all the kissing.”

“No apology necessary.” I was starting to get woozy. I told myself to breathe. He was about to go to the Rockies, and I didn’t know when I would see him again, and my life had apparently turned into a John Denver song. It felt in this moment like there ought to be something I could say here to change the course of things, but I had no idea what.

I went ahead and took one last, good look at Jake—to soak in the sight of him all clean-shaven and tan in that pressed cotton shirt. A mental picture. A keepsake.

He looked up and we locked eyes—and I felt it again: that pulsing, electrical flutter in my rib cage. For a second, I wondered if he felt it, too. He seemed to be holding his breath as much as I was.

He took a step closer. “Helen—”

But that’s when the banquet room doors burst open with awhap!and Mason and the minions came running out—buzzed on spiked lemonade and the thrill of civilization. They came right for Jake, and almost as soon as he’d turned his head, they ratcheted him up onto their shoulders.

“Woooo!” the minions were all shouting.

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