Chapter 1

The five of us had an unwritten rule: we never discussed plans. We guessed.

What to eat, where to go, who was paying—everything was a guessing game.

They called it the kind of connection you developed after ten years together.

Somehow, I was always the only one who got it wrong.

Two weeks before our fall vacation, I asked the group chat, “Where are we going?”

All four of them gave the same answer: “Guess.”

I asked my boyfriend privately. Without giving it much thought, he said, “I hear Lake Tahoe's beautiful in October.”

That night, I booked a flight to Reno.

The next day, my best friend, Olivia Bennett, posted a picture of palm trees in our chat.

“Can't wait for that ocean breeze!”

I canceled Reno and booked Key West.

A day later, my oldest brother shared a post about hiking in Death Valley.

“Every guy should see the desert at least once.”

I canceled again and booked Las Vegas so I could go to Death Valley.

In seven days, I changed my reservation eight times. I thought I'd finally figured it out.

Then, the night before we left, I saw a group chat on my boyfriend's phone. A chat without me.

Olivia: “I've decided. San Diego.”

My oldest brother answered immediately. “Sounds good. I'll buy the tickets now.”

My other brother: “Oh, and somebody remember to give Chris a hint about the right place.”

My boyfriend sent an OK emoji.

Only then did I understand. There hadn't been a destination to guess. They'd been waiting for Olivia to choose while I kept guessing alone.

This time, I didn't want to change my ticket.

…

“Apparently, the fish tacos in San Diego are amazing.”

Ethan Cole leaned against the kitchen doorway, speaking as though the thought had just occurred to him.

I stopped rinsing my glass. Water pattered against its sides.

He came over and shut off the faucet.

“You're smart. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you, right?”

He looked down at his phone. On the screen was a photo Olivia had posted ten minutes earlier: an old picture of Coronado.

I dried my hands on a towel and said nothing.

Normally, this was where I would act as though I'd finally understood, rush to cancel my desert trip, and change my flight to San Diego.

Then I'd type, “Oh, San Diego! I'm sure I got it right this time.”

The four of them would send laughing GIFs, tease me for being slow, and let me gush about how well we all understood each other.

But this time, I glanced at the calendar on the wall and kept my voice level.

“Sounds good. Enjoy them.”

I walked past him and went into the bedroom.

Behind me, Ethan gave a dismissive little laugh, apparently disappointed that I wasn't playing along.

It was overcast the morning we left.

We'd agreed to meet at Terminal 3 at O'Hare. When I arrived with my suitcase, the four of them were sitting together on a coffee shop couch.

Olivia wore a long floral dress. She was feeding Ethan a piece of a macaron.

Nathan Reed, my oldest brother, was straightening the sun hat in her hands. My other brother, Lucas, held up his phone, showing her a video that had her laughing.

“Hey, Chris finally made it.” Lucas looked up first and waved me over. “Five more minutes and we would've left you behind.”

I stopped my suitcase beside the table.

“Traffic.”

Nathan stood and held out his hand.

“Give me your license. I'll get everyone's boarding passes so you don't all have to stand in line.”

I took it out of my bag and handed it over.

He tapped a finger against the card, looking faintly amused.

“Desert sand doesn't taste very good, Chris.”

I looked at him without answering.

Ten minutes later, he returned with five paper boarding passes. He handed me one, smiling.

“Here. Let's see where you're actually going.”

I looked down. The destination printed on it was San Diego.

Olivia came over and hooked her arm through mine, her smile bright and innocent.

“Christina, I knew you'd guess wrong again. Good thing Nathan checked your reservation last night. You actually booked Las Vegas.”

Ethan came up and took my suitcase.

“All that wind and dust in the desert? Liv has asthma. Why would we take her there? You get worse at reading us every year.”

Lucas chimed in. “Come on. If Nathan hadn't thought to check the booking account and pay to change your flight, you'd be eating dust out there by yourself.”

They'd gone into the travel account I still shared with my family, looked up my plans, and canceled my ticket without asking. A few sentences later, they had turned it into a huge favor.

I gripped the boarding pass until its edge dug into my palm.

“You really didn't have to do that.” I looked up at them. “I would've been fine going to the desert alone.”

For a second, no one spoke.

Ethan frowned, already impatient.

“Christina Reed, why are you starting this first thing in the morning? We're taking a trip together. What's the point if you run off by yourself? Are you trying to ruin it?”

Nathan patted his shoulder, signaling him to stop.

“Chris, I just don't like the idea of you traveling alone. San Diego's great. Ocean breezes, seafood—what's not to like?”

Olivia tugged at my arm.

“Exactly. Don't you love the ocean? We can go look for shells together.”

I looked at her innocent expression and suddenly couldn't see the point of arguing.

She was the one who loved the ocean. I was the one with the seafood allergy.

They never seemed able to remember either fact.

I slipped my arm out of hers and put the boarding pass in my pocket.

“Let's go through security.”

On the plane, we had three seats together and two more in the row ahead.

Ethan took Olivia's boarding pass and headed for the two seats without a moment's hesitation. Nathan and Lucas settled into the row behind them, leaving the aisle seat for me.

I sat down. Lucas handed me a bottle of water, then dropped several of Olivia's magazines onto my lap.

“Hold these for Liv. They won't fit in her bag.”

“Okay.”

I set them by my feet.

After takeoff, the cabin grew quiet. I leaned back, staring past my brothers at the clouds outside.

Once, those two seats would always have been mine and Ethan's. Nathan and Lucas would sit behind us, occasionally tapping my head and asking if I wanted something to eat.

Then Olivia came along.

She was the daughter of Nathan's mentor. Before he died, he'd asked our family to look after her.

At first, it was just, “Liv's new here. Try to be understanding.”

So she got the front passenger seat because she was carsick. We switched to bland food because her stomach was sensitive.

Even Ethan began to believe she needed more looking after than I did.

Eventually, I was the outsider, the one who always had to guess what they wanted.

“Could you put your tray table up, please?”

The flight attendant interrupted my thoughts. I straightened and latched the tray back into place.

Ahead of me, Ethan was tucking a blanket around Olivia. Their heads were close as they spoke quietly.

I turned away and closed my eyes.

This really might be the last time I played their stupid game.