Page 124 of Not Another Yesterday
Cat
“Brady and I are officially broken up,” Vada announces loud and proud when she, Summer, Tori, and I take our seats around a rustic picnic table complete with a red-and-white checkered plastic tablecloth.
The four of us have officially survived our freshman year of college. Summer, Zack, and Vada are back home in New York. We’re buzzing with giddy excitement. It’s the first time we’ve been together in months, and the prospect of a long summer together is almost too good to be true.
Summer snags one of the laminated menus wedged between the salt and pepper shakers lined up at the end of the table. “I feel like you’ve said this before. So when you say ‘official,’ do you mean like, officially official?”
Vada nods. “Officially official.”
“So what made you call off your open, on-again, off-again… whatever that was?” Tori asks, skimming the menu with the namePepper’s BBQprinted in bold Comic Sans across the top.
I love this place. It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall—well, more like a shack in a dirt parking lot—restaurant Ronan brought me to not long after we started dating two years ago. That was before I knew he didn’t eat beef or pork. I still remember offering him half my rack of ribs and how politely he turned them down. I thought he was just being sweet—and he was—but I had no idea he was probably trying not to gag.
Those ribs? Exactly what I’m ordering today. Along with a giant scoop of coleslaw. I’m starving.
“Commitment-phobia,” Vada says simply.
“You or him?” Summer asks, not looking up.
“Me,” Vada says, slapping her menu onto the table. “I’m ready to order.”
“Me too,” I say enthusiastically.
Summer giggles. “Me three.”
Tori clicks her tongue. “Ready to commit to food, but not to a relationship.”
“Hardly the same thing.” Vada waves her off, laughing.
A young guy I recognize as the owner’s grandson comes to take our orders, quickly jotting them down on a notepad before he walks away.
Vada watches him as he walks back toward the building, passing the massive black smoker trailing ribbons of mouthwatering smoke.
“Now him I wouldn’t mind being on-again, off-again with this summer,” she says, eyebrows raised.
Summer grins. “I say go for it. But speaking of this summer, what do we have planned?”
Tori claps excitedly. “Well, I think the plan was beach camping for a few days around July Fourth.”
“Yes!” Vada shouts.
“But other than that, I don’t think we have solid plans yet,” Tori says, unfazed by the boisterous interruption.
“I honestly just want to spend as much time with you as possible,” I say. “I’ve missed you guys!”
“You don’t want to spend every waking second rejoicing in your reunion with Ran?” Summer asks, one eyebrow raised.
I laugh. “I do, and I’m very much rejoicing. But he’s still busy with work. And for some reason he signed up for a full class load this summer, so I don’t think we’ll have all that much time together.” I pretend not to know the reason he kept his plate full when, in reality, I know he signed up when we were still broken up, probably to keep himself distracted.
Vada gives a dramatic thumbs-down. “Boo.”
“Oh, and Randi’s set to visit for a couple weeks in July,” I say.
Vada snorts. “I’m still surprised you’re cool with that.”
I’ve filled them in on what happened—over many late-night calls, some with all of us on the line. They know about the breakup. About Montana. About the talk Ronan and I had while we were there. Well, most of it. I didn’t tell them about his aunt. That’s not mine to share.
But even though my perception of Miranda has drastically changed, Vada is still skeptical.
