17. Noelle
Chapter seventeen
Noelle
“I can’t believe this is our last night before the Fabulous Four breaks up.” Cal sighed. “We’ve had a good run.” He leaned back in his camp chair, tugging me closer against his chest.
Did I have my own chair? Yes.
Was I sitting on Cal’s lap instead? Also yes.
What could I say? My fiancé was a romantic, and he liked playing with my hair. No complaints here.
“You make it sound like we’re breaking up,” Greyson grunted.
“Not breaking up,” I said slowly. “But it’s the end of an era for us.”
Greyson huffed. “We’re not going to be mushy about it and make pinky promises about always being friends.”
Myles slapped his shoulder. “No one would dare make you get mushy.”
Greyson only rolled his eyes. He was the gruff one of our quartet, but this was over the top, even for him.
“A fire would have been nice,” Myles continued, eyeing the propane gas stove.
Greyson snorted. “Shane would have flayed us alive and then tanned our hides.”
“No need for gruesomeness, my dude,” Cal complained, burying his face in my neck.
I laughed, and the guys joined in. Even Greyson cracked a smile. Cal had a notoriously weak stomach.
Today had been the last day of all four of us being together.
Everything was changing so fast. We’d hit up our old haunts, grabbed dinner at Donovan’s Downto’n, and ended back at the Satterfield house around the empty fire ring, save the little propane stove Pops had offered us.
Because, family or not, firefighter Shane would have been giddy to fine us for breaking a fire ban.
The little stove wouldn’t roast a marshmallow, but it was better than nothing.
I settled more firmly against Cal’s chest, his arms banding around my waist. “When do you leave again?” I asked Greyson.
“Monday,” he grunted, fists opening and closing. He looked like he needed an axe and a load of firewood. What was with him? He was usually grumpy, but he was downright bearish today. Maybe for all his bravado about hating mushiness he hated goodbyes as much as the rest of us.
“But you’ll be back for the wedding?” Cal asked, his fingers lazily fiddling with the ring on my left finger. He’d proposed six weeks ago, and we had plans for an August wedding.
Greyson nodded. “It falls during my ten-day leave after boot camp.”
“Our hero.” I grinned at him. “Just think of all that California sunshine.”
He huffed and leaned back to look up at the stars.
I rested my head on Cal’s shoulder, and his fingers instantly started playing with my curls.
The familiar touch was soothing. We were all a few months away from nineteen, with big plans.
But we were together for one last night, just like the old days when we were all neighbours, riding our bikes up the gravel road and conquering make-believe villains.
Now, everything was about to change.
Greyson was off to boot camp in San Diego with the Marines for thirteen weeks. Cal and Myles were waiting to hear if they were being drafted. And I was marrying my best friend.
The end of one era and the start of a new one.
When I shivered, Cal hugged me even closer. “What about a round of Mario Kart for old times’ sake?”
Myles’s eyes gleamed in the firelight. “You ready to lose, Cap?”
“Hardly. I’m on a winning streak.”
“In your dreams.”
After packing up the chairs and wrestling the stove back to the porch, we tramped into the Satterfield kitchen.
Soft piano music lilted in from the living room. Myles paused in the doorway, watching. I glanced between him and the sole inhabitant of the room—Juliet.
She was the only one who played the old piano, her light touch haunting. Yiruma’s “River Flows in You” always made my heart ache. From the expression on Myles’s face, he wasn’t far off.
Juliet startled when Cal closed the back door a little too hard. “Oh, I didn’t know you guys were back.”
“We’re going to play Mario Kart,” Cal offered, plopping down on the sofa arm.
“Want to join us?” I asked.
Juliet was three years our junior, but she tagged along with us sometimes. The two of us always got along, despite the age difference. She was equal parts sweet and stabby, and she was my game-watching buddy. Between the two of us, we never missed the guys’ home games.
She shook her head. “I need to finish practicing.” Her gaze wandered to Myles and her cheeks flushed pink.
Ah, young love. At least she had good taste in guys. As far as they went, Myles was solid.
He squeezed her shoulder. “You sound great, Peach.”
Her eyes shone at the compliment, and you’d think he handed her the moon.
Myles, bless him, was completely oblivious to the effect he had on her. “Hey, which piece did you play on Sunday before the service started? It sounded familiar.” He plopped down next to her on the wide piano bench, and the two of them flipped through her music folder.
“We’ll grab the drinks.” Cal hopped off the sofa arm, hauling Greyson with him.
“We who?” Greyson grunted but let himself be manhandled.
“You guys wanna go set up the game?” Cal paused to drop a kiss on my hair. “Coffee?”
“Always.”
He chuckled. My caffeine habit was a well-established joke. “Canada, what’s your poison?”
Myles’s gaze didn’t stray from the sheet music Juliet was showing him. “Surprise me.”
Cal’s eyes glinted with glee.
“Grey, surprise me,” Myles amended. He didn’t even need to look at his best friend to smell the mischief brewing.
“You’re a wet sock.” Cal slugged his shoulder before shoving Greyson towards the kitchen.
I headed to the basement, and a moment later, Myles followed me. Once the twins’ bickering faded away, I asked, “Is it just me or is Grey extra grumpy these days?”
“Jessica Winters dumped him for Denver Donovan last week,” Myles replied factually, fiddling with the remote to get the game queued up.
“Seriously? That hairy-chested slug? How did I not hear about this?”
Myles snorted and handed me a controller. “How do you know he’s hairy?”
“How have you missed it?” I shuddered. “He’s allergic to wearing a shirt these days.”
“Too bad Mrs. Gulliver’s in Arizona, eh? She’d nail him for public indecency.”
“Your Canadian is showing,” I teased, laughing. “But I’d pay money to see her write him a ticket.”
Myles smirked. “We could film it, too. The Vine subscribers would thank us.”
Denver was our age and a total cockroach—sleazy and impossible to avoid. But his family was “old stock” in Serenity Springs, so they got a “get out of jail free” card when it came to said sleaziness.
“Want to do a practice round?” Myles asked.
“You’re on, Delavan.” I chose my character—Yoshi as always—and Myles took Toad, his usual choice.
We slipped into banter and trash talk as we made our laps around the course. I tried outsmarting him with a shortcut, but nope. We were still neck and neck for laps. Maybe I could beat him this time. Miracles still happened. Talking might distract him enough.
“Poor Grey. I thought he and Jess were cute together.” It was the first time Greyson had been interested in a girl, too. Though he hadn’t been head over heels. It wasn’t his style.
Myles grunted.
“What, you disagree?”
“She wasn’t right for him.”
“What are you, a matchmaker?”
He side-eyed me. “I called you and Cal, didn’t I?”
Who hadn’t? No one in this town—except Cal and me—was surprised by our friendship turning into romance.
Myles splattered my Yoshi with ink, taking the lead, and thus creamed me.
I groaned, dropping my head back against the couch. “You cheat. You have to, because no one wins against you.”
“Jules did last week,” he said, fiddling with his controller.
I arched a brow. “She did, huh?” I slugged his arm. More like he let her win. “You’re a softy.”
He didn’t deny it, and we started a second game.
“You good, Elle?” Myles asked after a moment.
The question had me slipping a banana peel—figuratively, as I was currently ahead on the course. “I’m fine. Why?”
Apart from all the changes, life was good. Mostly. Except with my family. Olive was in her “threatening to run away” stage again.
Myles paused the game—unheard of!—and shifted to face me.
Caramel eyes bored into me, and I fought the urge to fidget.
Or smack him with a pillow. Myles always noticed more than you wanted him to.
He was like a human X-ray, seeing what you wanted to keep hidden.
Despite being totally clueless about when a girl was interested in him, he was the most emotionally intelligent teenager I’d met.
But that’s because he took after his mom.
My throat tightened just thinking about Sandra Delavan—or Aunt Sandy as we used to call her. She made the best oatmeal-raisin cookies, and like her son, she was good at seeing the hurting and broken parts you kept buried deep in your chest. She called it her “mom superpower.”
But we’d lost her almost two years ago to an aggressive battle with cancer, and Myles had shouldered the emotional burden of supporting his poor excuse for a dad and younger brothers.
“Talk to him,” Myles said quietly.
“Cal? We talk all the time, Canada.”
He shook his head. “Don’t deflect. If you won’t talk to him, talk to someone. Mama D or Melissa.” His gaze was steady. “Don’t carry it alone, Elle.”
Like you? But I didn’t say the words because they were wrapped in barbed wire and acid. “I’m fine.” I said it so firmly with a perfectly intact smile I almost believed the lie myself.
My family was my problem. I’d handle it. Like I always did.
Stomping thundered down the stairs, and Cal swept in with a flourish. “My lady.” He bowed and handed me a coffee.
Greyson’s stealthy tread followed, and he held out a mug to Myles. “Chocolate mint.”
Myles’s throat bobbed, but he took it with a nod.
Aunt Sandy’s favourite. The hurting didn’t go away, even after two years. In some ways, it hurt more because you had to live with the grief. Each morning began a new day without someone you loved. Grief reshaped you. Made you see the world differently. But it never really left.
Reaching out, I gave his arm a quick squeeze. His smile was faint, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Cal flopped down on the couch, draping an arm around me. “The last night of the Fabulous Four. Did you crush him?”
I snorted. “Can anyone? He’s a menace.”
Greyson grunted but sipped his black coffee without a word.
Cal chuckled. “I’m sure you were amazing.” He leaned in for a kiss, the taste of hot chocolate on his lips. Guess that was his drink of choice tonight. Raising his mug, he grinned, and gosh, I loved that smile. “To the Fabulous Four. May we always be fabulous.”
Greyson rolled his eyes at his twin’s cheesy theatrics but lifted his cup. Myles followed suit, and I was the last one to clink my mug to theirs.
We were all young with plans ahead of us. Love, dreams, ambitions. But this—the four of us—whatever happened, we’d always have us.