Chapter 8

8

Heidi

Lucy’s cabin hasn’t changed much in the few years since I’ve been here. That’s not to say that I haven’t been home in years; it just means that when I do come home, it’s really only for special occasions. The last time I saw my friends was at Katie’s birthday party earlier in the year, but that was at the main house. I prefer attending those kinds of celebrations, rather than the closed-wall intimate gatherings that usually take place here.

Throughout high school—unless I could convince my ex, Dylan, otherwise—the cabin was where we spent most of our Friday and Saturday nights. Even then, I felt like an outsider. The boys were Dylan’s friends, not mine, and as much as I love Lucy, the things we had in common were very few and far between.

Now we’ve all grown up, some of us are married, or very close to it, and Cam and Lucy even have a daughter, and I…. I feel like I’ve grown apart from the rest of them.

Sure, the physical distance doesn’t help, but it’s not just that. My connection to all of them was Dylan, and we broke up almost a decade ago. We both moved on. He married Riley, and I…

I honestly don’t even know why they want to keep me around.

I’m not being self-deprecating, believe me. I’m just… incredibly self-aware of the situation I’m about to walk into. If I felt like an outsider all those years ago while I was dating Dylan, you can only imagine how I feel today.

The front of the cabin has enough clearing for at least ten cars, so I find a spot to park that makes for an easy escape. I don’t plan on staying long. My headlights shine on the front porch, illuminating Jake and Logan standing opposite each other, their heads bowed, clearly in a deep conversation. They glance in my direction, right before Jake hands Logan something small enough that Logan can shove deep in his jeans pocket. I narrow my eyes, confused, but only for a moment. Anyone who saw the interaction might assume it’s a comical drug deal, but considering their professions and the likelihood they’d get drug tested, I’m going to go with some ridiculous form of mayhem.

I step out of the car at the same time Jake and Logan make their way down the porch steps. “Heidi!” Jake greets. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Logan points to the stain on his chest, then his head. “We’d give you a hug, but…”

I scrunch my nose. “Which one of you smells like tuna?”

“That would be me,” Jake answers, and I nod, put on a smile as I pop open my trunk.

“Give me a hand?” I ask, taking out one of Katie’s gifts and handing it to Jake. Then another, and another, and another.

“Jeez,” Logan says, as I hand him his own stack. “You going for favorite auntie award?”

“Something like that.” The truth is, I don’t have many people in my life I buy gifts for, and shopping is probably the one thing I’m actually good at. Since the gang decided to stop doing Christmas gifts for each other a few years back, not even Secret Santa, then the only other people I shop for are my parents. Their gifts are back home, under the Christmas tree, still unopened.

I grab the trays of food I’d spent the afternoon making. I wasn’t asked to bring anything; I just… had nothing better to do. And besides, if I was going to be here, I felt it necessary that I contribute something.

“Assuming y’all get drug tested, I would probably stay away from the brownies,” I quip, juggling the trays in my arms so I can shut the trunk.

“Is it your mom’s recipe?” Logan asks.

“Sure is.”

“Dang, why you gotta tempt me like this?”

We don’t speak as we make our way into the house. No how are you? Or what have you been up to? I can’t be mad about it. I don’t ask them either. The second we step into the house, I’m immediately hit with the scent of cookies, most likely still in the oven.

The girls are sitting on the floor, Lucy covered in plastic leaves with only her face exposed. She has a drink in her hand, yelling something heated about what I assume are characters in a book. The other girls argue back, their voices loud and passionate. I’m taken back to my college years, when the girls had weekly book clubs, and I… I wasn’t much of a reader.

I’m still not.

“We found a stray,” Logan announces, and my chest tightens at his words. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but it’s exactly how I feel. How I’ve felt for years.

Dylan appears from the kitchen, followed closely by Cameron—who’s wearing an apron with a picture of a grill that says, “Once you put my meat in your mouth, you’re going to want to swallow.” He approaches, a giant grin on his face. A second later, I’m enveloped in his arms, and then immediately after, pushed to the side. He smashes an egg directly on Logan’s face.

I bust out a giggle as Logan grunts, “Goddamn it!”

The girls greet me the same way—without the egg part, and Lucy says, “We weren’t sure if you were going to make it.”

Right.

I never actually confirmed I was coming because I didn’t know if I was. Meaning, I didn’t know if I wanted to. Obviously, I don’t tell her that. “And miss out on seeing y’all? No way.”

Dylan’s the last to greet me. Or his version of a greeting, anyway. “Hey, Heids,” he says. “I’m going to need to pat you down.”

“ What ?”

Beside him, Riley sighs. “Nothing has happened to him yet,” she explains. “So now he’s super paranoid.”

My eyes widen. “Like I have a bomb strapped to me or something?”

Dylan just shrugs.

Riley says, lifting her hands between us, “I’ll be quick.”

I remove my coat, hand it to Dylan, then raise my arms in the air and surrender to their request, because what else can I do? And I don’t ask why Dylan isn’t the one to pat me down—whether it’s because he and I have a history or because Riley’s female. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

While being patted down, I ask Dylan, “They really haven’t gotten you yet?”

“We don’t fuck with the King of Mayhem,” Cam tells me.

“What Cam is really saying is that retaliation’s a bitch, and so is he,” Lucy says. “He’s too scared of Dylan’s payback.”

Then Logan mumbles out of nowhere, pointing to me and Riley, “Fuck, babe, this reminds me of that one porno we watched?—”

“Shut up,” Amanda cuts in, rolling her eyes at him.

I giggle, looking over at Logan. It’s only now I realize how bloodshot his eyes are. He’s clearly been drinking. I assume they all have, besides Riley, of course. And possibly Dylan.

“She’s good,” Riley announces, then wraps me in her arms.

If I’m being honest with myself, Riley is the reason I’m here. Besides the dozen messages back and forth in the gang’s group chat this morning, I didn’t receive a single text wishing me a merry Christmas. Not from my friends in Atlanta, and definitely not from my parents. The only phone call I got was from Riley, who said she hopes that I have a great day filled with love (didn’t happen) and that hopefully she’ll see me tonight.

She was the only reason I got out of bed. It was already midday.

I hug her a little longer than necessary.

Dylan comes next, quick and completely platonic.

“Drink?” Lucy asks.

I nod, answer, “Yes, please.” I’m sure as hell going to need it.