and Ashton adds, “Remember? I told you about him. He’s going to be a groomsman in the wedding, and he’s transferring to UCSD next fall. He’s studying molecular biology.” Ashton nudges Addy’s foot with hers and smiles. “He saw that picture of you and me at Mom’s last week on Eli’s Instagram, and now he really wants to meet you.”
Addy wrinkles her nose. “Molecular biology? I don’t know. I might be busy.”
“I think you’d like him. He’s very nice. And funny.” Ashton swipes her phone a few times before holding it out to Addy. “This is Daniel.”
Phoebe rises and peers at Ashton’s phone. I lean closer to Addy so I can see, too, and can’t help the admiring ooh that comes out when I catch sight of Daniel’s picture. That is one seriously cute molecular biologist. “He looks like the lost Hemsworth brother,” I say.
Phoebe tilts her head for a better view. “Is that a filter, or are his eyes actually that blue?”
“No filter,” Ashton says.
“All right, then.” Addy nods so quickly, I’m afraid her neck might snap. “Saturday it is.”
Ashton takes her phone back and gets to her feet, looking pleased. “Great, I’ll have Eli make reservations someplace fun. I’m going to change clothes and inhale my dinner, then I’ll help you finish the wedding favors.” She disappears into her bedroom, and Phoebe settles herself back on the ground, reaching for another netted bag. Addy rips into a large, thick envelope with a pleased aha noise.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Addy tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “It’s from this school called Colegio San Silvestre in Peru,” she says.
I feel a sudden stab of panic. No, you can’t leave me too. “Are you going there?”
She laughs. “No. Well, not as a student. It’s an elementary school. But there’s this summer program where the kids learn English, and they hire counselors from other countries. I was thinking of applying. You don’t have to speak Spanish because you’re supposed to have all your conversations in English so the kids can practice. I’ve been looking into teaching programs around here for next year, and I thought it would be good experience. Plus, I’d get to travel. I’ve never even left the country before.” She flips slowly through the glossy pages of a brochure. “Ashton says I can keep living with her and Eli however long I want, but at some point I have to figure out what’s next. And I am not moving back in with my mom.”
Addy’s mother is the definition of a party mom. The last time I saw her, right before Addy moved in with Ashton, she offered me a glass of wine while her twenty-something Tinder date checked out my ass. She hasn’t been all that involved in wedding planning, except to text Addy pictures of every potential mother-of-the-bride dress she tries on.
“Sounds great,” I say, peering at the brochure over Addy’s shoulder. “Can I see?”
Addy hands it to me with a smile. “You should look into it, too. You don’t have to be a high school graduate to apply. We’d have fun.”
She’s right, we would. I can’t think of anything I’d like better than a summer with Addy in South America, actually. But I can barely plan for next week, with all the crap going on with my life. Who knows what kind of shape I’ll be in by the time applications are due? Still, the brochure draws me in with beautiful pictures of the school and the kids, and I’m flipping through with increasing interest when Ashton comes running out of her room.
She’s barefoot, and her blouse is untucked as though she’d paused halfway through getting changed. “I just got a text from Eli,” she says breathlessly, her eyes roving over the coffee table. “Where’s the remote?”
“I think I’m sitting on it.” Addy twists and reaches to pull it out from behind a cushion. She blinks, surprised, when Ashton snatches it from her hand. “Jeez, Ash, what’s the rush?”
Ashton perches beside her on the arm of the sofa and aims the remote at the television. “There’s been an accident,” she says. The screen springs to life, and Ashton clicks away from the E! Network. “I think they’re covering it on Channel Seven—yeah. Here it is.”
A stone-faced news anchor sits behind a shiny, semicircular desk, the words Breaking News scrolling in all caps behind him. “Reporter Liz Rosen joins us now at the scene,” he says, aiming an intense stare directly into the