Chapter 14 634 days before the breakup
Suddenly it was November, and Savannah, Grace, and I were hosting our annual Friendsgiving.
What started with microwave mac and cheese and whatever we could swipe from the dining hall turned into everyone being responsible for one homemade dish.
This year was going to be our most impressive spread yet.
We instructed guests to bring a bottle of wine and clothes to sleep in just in case they needed to crash.
Our Friendsgiving was like if a Thanksgiving feast merged with Blackout Wednesday, except we learned quickly not to host it the night before any actual family event, unless we wanted a lecture from Grandma Susan and a raging headache.
Then last Tuesday, during second period, I was scrolling through my inbox, and there it was amid the usual clutter of Facebook birthdays, weekly newsletters, and shopping promo codes—an email from Tess at Luminary Literary Management.
By Friday, I had signed the contract and officially had an agent.
It was happening, and everything was finally starting to feel real.
Now that I had concrete proof that someone besides me, my parents, and Cole saw potential in the book, I knew it was time to tell my friends.
“Everyone told the boys not to come until seven thirty, right?” Savannah asked as she aggressively sliced a block of extra sharp cheddar. “I want the charcuterie board to be ready when they get here, and I got a late start on it, since the grocery store was a madhouse.”
“You know, you really should try to start a side hustle selling these things,” Demi suggested, swiping a piece of cheese from the platter.
“Hey! No more until they get here.” Savannah shooed Demi’s hand away.
“This is exactly why a Crock-Pot recipe is best,” I said, nodding to the little black appliance practically making my dish for me.
Before anyone could reply, the doorbell rang.
“Great,” Savannah said, rolling her eyes. “I love that no one listens.”
“I can help!” Demi and I went to her rescue to avoid any and all run-ins with Bad-Mood Sav. She wasn’t fun to be around, let alone party with.
“Fold the prosciutto, then get started on the salami while I finish with the cheeses,” Savannah instructed.
Cole, Tucker, and Drew stumbled in, arms full with an uncooked ham, two large Tupperware containers, and enough alcohol to last us an entire weekend.
I had to admit, I was impressed they actually remembered everything this time.
Usually someone forgets at least one ingredient or dish, and last year it was the ham.
You could only imagine how Savannah reacted to that one.
“All right, let’s get this cooking!” Grace said as she playfully slapped Tucker’s butt. “Drew and Cole, will you open a bottle and pour everyone a glass?”
“Forgetting someone?” Lucas’s voice carried down the hall as he walked into the kitchen with a gift bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Margo followed close behind, balancing a dish in her arms.
“Look who showed up this year,” Tucker said, dapping him up.
Margo chimed in. “We might be MIA most of the year, but when have we ever missed a Friendsgiving?”
She wasn’t wrong. Lucas wasn’t in the same fraternity as Tucker and Drew, so he and Margo were always doing their own thing during school, drifting in and out of our orbit.
After graduation, when Margo started law school, we started to see Lucas more, but with him, it was always a gamble—never quite knowing if he’d actually show up or ghost us, especially when Cole was around.
“Touché,” Tucker laughed, raising his hands as if to surrender.
Before anyone could say more, Grace’s gaze landed on the brightly colored gift bag Lucas was holding.
“What’s with the gift, Luke? You do know this is Friendsgiving, not a birthday, right?” she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.
“Charcuterie is finally done!” Savannah burst into the dining room, setting the board in the center of the table. Thank god.
“Babe, this is your best yet!” Demi said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Savannah’s face lit up with pride. “No one touch it. I want to get a picture for my Instagram story!”
The uncooked ham sat on the counter, waiting its turn in the oven, but we weren’t in a hurry. Our kitchen buzzed with the sound of familiar voices and the clinking of glasses, bringing me right back to college.
Cole came up behind me, his hand grazing my lower back.
My breath caught slightly at the touch—I wasn’t expecting it.
“I didn’t know you told Lucas,” he said in a low tone.
I looked up at him, confused, and then my eyes caught on the gift bag still dangling from Lucas’s arm, a chagrined smile on his face.
The realization hit, and I felt a warm glow start in my chest.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my throat dry. “I didn’t realize I never said anything. We were catching up last week, and I mentioned it to him. I didn’t think he’d show up with a—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Savannah noticed too. “Aw, is that a gift for your favorite hosts?” she teased, smirking as she reached for a glass.
Lucas gave me a small knowing smile, striding toward me before dropping his voice. “Figured you probably haven’t celebrated properly yet. Thought you might need something that isn’t alcohol from a plastic handle.”
He said it quietly, like it was just for me—not for the group, not for attention. But when he handed me the gift, everyone put two and two together.
Grace blinked, tilting her head. “Wait, what? Why does Ainsley get a gift?”
I opened my mouth, ready to explain, but before I could say a word, Cole stepped in, his voice steady but tight.
“I was going to toast to this before dinner,” he said, his gaze lingering on Lucas for a second before he continued, “but I guess now’s as good a time as any.
Ainsley wrote a book, and she signed with a literary agent last week. ”
I felt myself deflate a bit. I had wanted to be the one to tell the news. Saying it would’ve made it feel real, but still, this was good. I was excited!
As the noise around us picked up, Lucas caught my eye again and gave me a tiny shrug, like he was trying to say sorry for stealing Cole’s thunder or maybe just checking to make sure I was okay. I couldn’t tell. But it felt nice to be seen.
“You wrote a book?” Grace asked, eyes wide. “How did we not know this?”
I admired the gift bag, my fingers brushing over the ribbon, feeling the eyes of the group on me.
“I wanted to wait until everything was official before telling you guys,” I explained.
Savannah nosily leaned in even closer, already halfway through her second glass of wine. “So what’s it about? Can you give us a sneak peek, or is it top secret?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” I replied, feeling the weight of Cole’s stare from across the room.
“All right, let’s toast!” Cole jumped back in. “To new ventures, old traditions, and friends that feel like family.”
“And to getting absolutely hammered!” Tucker added.
“And to Ainsley, our author,” Lucas quietly added, just for me. I beamed.
A few hours later, we were sprawled out on the living room floor, lost in an intense game of Cards Against Humanity, when I slipped away to use the bathroom.
As I walked back down the hallway, intending to rejoin my friends, a soft murmur from the kitchen caught my attention.
I was about to pass by when Savannah’s voice saying my name made me freeze.
Curiosity piqued, I tiptoed closer, my breath catching. Sav and Grace are talking about me? The shadow of the dark hallway hid me well as I stood near the doorway, listening to their conversation.
“I just don’t get it,” Savannah said. “She’s acting like Cole is one of her book boyfriends or something.”
Grace sighed. “I thought I was the only one thinking it.”
“She’s trying so hard to convince us that he’s perfect, but I feel like he’s half-assing it 100 percent of the time. It’s like she’s writing a story no one else is reading.”
“Yeah,” Grace agreed. “He’s never really struck me as the guy who’s all in. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great friend to Tucker. But definitely not boyfriend material. I mean, remember how he didn’t even show up to her birthday until after dinner?”
“And she still made an excuse for him,” Savannah added.
For a moment, the kitchen went quiet except for the clank of glasses on the counter. The soft rush of the dishwasher starting to fill, the silence drawing out further. I almost let myself believe the conversation was over.
But then Grace’s voice drifted out again, softer this time. “And honestly, what’s with the book? She didn’t even tell us she was writing one until it was basically done. Did she not think we’d be supportive? Friends don’t hide that kind of thing.”
Savannah let out a humorless laugh. “Exactly. It’s like she doesn’t even trust us.”
The words sliced deeper than I expected. My book had been the one thing that felt like mine, a piece of myself I hadn’t been ready to share until it was real. But hearing them twist that into proof of distance between us—proof I hadn’t been a good friend—made my stomach churn.
Taking a deep breath to steady my shaking hands, I entered the kitchen.
The space felt colder now, emptied of the relief and joy I’d felt just a few hours ago.
I poured another glass of wine and set the bottle down more forcefully than necessary.
Giving myself a second to collect my thoughts, I took a long swig from the glass.
They didn’t get it. They didn’t get him. Cole was the one who convinced me I wasn’t crazy for chasing this whole book idea in the first place. He was the one who told me to stop hiding behind what-ifs and just try. Without him, I never would’ve even opened that old document again.
At least that’s what I believed then.