Aimee groans from the couch. “Do I get murdered or cuddled?”
“Both,” Jace and I say at the same time.
Wes sighs, but I keep going. Mostly because no one’s yelling.
“Look, I think we need it,” I tell them. “A break. No screens, no articles, andno rehashing. Just—us. A weekend to prove we’re not running away this time.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
“...Also, I bought s’mores ingredients, and if I don’t use them, Iwillcry.”
“You already cried this morning,” Jace says.
“Yeah. But I want this one to be s’more related.”
Aimee covers her face with Wes’s pillow and mumbles, “Someone please stop him.”
“No one’s stopping me,” I say. “I’m unstoppable. I’m powered by second chances and marshmallows.”
Jace disappears into the hallway, already muttering something about thermal socks and folding shovels as Aimee peeks out from behind the cushion. “Are there bathrooms?”
“Nope,” I reply, cheerfully.
“Sold,” Jace calls from another room.
Wes rubs a hand over his face. “You’re all insane.”
“But are wewrong?” I ask.
He stares at the ceiling for a long time before saying, “If one mosquito touches me, I will sue the outdoors.”
“Deal,” I say. “But you’re going. We all are.”
He glances at Aimee, then softens a little. “Fine. But if there’s singing—”
“I already started writing lyrics,” I interrupt.
Aimee lets out a sound that’s suspiciously like a laugh. It’s quiet, but it’s there; and better yet, it’sours.
We’re getting her back. We’re making this real.
And we aredefinitelysinging.
*
Jace has packed enough gear for an actual military operation.
There's a water filter, an axe, and something that looks suspiciously tactical.
I made two playlists—one for the drive, one for the firepit. One’s called Scented Bangers Only, the other is Omega Snuggle Jams, and I’m not ashamed of either.
Aimee’s in leggings, an oversized hoodie, and the kind of sleepy-glowy post-heat haze that makes me want to wrap her in sixteen blankets and guard her like a cursed jewel.
“Who put me in charge of snacks?” she says, holding up a plastic bag full of gummy bears and trail mix. “Becausethisis a disaster.”
“You assigned yourself,” I say, sliding into the backseat beside her. “And I stand by your choices.”
“I regret it deeply.”