she didn’t.
Alfie pulls up in the parking lot just then.
“Thanks for picking me up,” I tell Jamie once I get in. “My afternoon plans fell through, and I didn’t want to sit around in an empty house until dinner.”
“It was perfect timing,” he says. “I have to take Sophie to her Hebrew tutor at noon, but I’m free until then.” He glances at me. “I bet today’s kind of tough. A first holiday without your parents in one house.”
“It’s weird. And depressing. Want to go see if there’s any open canvassing hours?”
“Canvassing? It’s Eid! You’re supposed to celebrate it, right?”
“I’m not feeling too celebratory, I guess.”
“Well, you can fake it till you make it! Let’s go get a bite to eat somewhere. Didn’t you say something about a chocolate cake at Intermezzo?”
“Hmm.” I smile and lean back in the seat. “That cake is amazing, but it’s too early for that right now . . . ditto Farm Burger . . . I know.” I straighten. “How about Skeeter’s? Let’s get those strawberry custards Sara mentioned.”
“Your wish is my command.” He nods, and we pull out of the parking lot.
I’m not saying I picked Skeeter’s because I hoped I might run into Sara, but I can’t pretend I don’t feel a touch disappointed when it’s Lucas who greets us instead.
We order our custards—Jamie insists I top mine off with sprinkles for celebration purposes—and settle outside on the front patio.
“Sara was right.” Jamie’s eyes widen as he takes another bite. “This custard is amazing.”
“And you were right, the sprinkles do make it taste better. Though it feels a little weird to eat in the middle of the day.”
“Oh!” He stands up just then. “I almost forgot.”
Before I can respond, he’s hurrying over to Alfie in the parking lot. He pops open the trunk and then walks back, holding a glittery gift bag—green and white tissue paper poking out the edges.
“Here you go! Happy Eid!”
“You got me a gift!” I take the bag from him. “Jamie, that is so sweet.”
Glancing in, I pull out—
Goldfish crackers. It’s a gift bag stuffed full of Goldfish cracker bags. I do my best not to laugh, but this guy and Goldfish . . .
“I was thinking about it,” he says. “I know you aren’t the biggest fan of them. That’s totally understandable. Some parents go overboard packing them with every meal. It’s important to space out snacks, even good ones. But these are the best of the bunch. There’s extra cheddar, white cheddar, and my personal favorite, rainbow Goldfish.”
“Jamie, they’re basically all the same thing.”
“Yeah, right.” He laughs. But then he glances at me and pauses. “Wait. Are you serious? You know they have Oreo-flavored Goldfish, right? Are you saying even those taste the same?”
“Well, obviously the Oreo ones are different, but the rest of them are similar. It’s just marketing.”
He looks like that kid in kindergarten who I accidentally let slip to that Santa wasn’t real.
“No way. This calls for a taste test. But we’ll need to get some regular Goldfish crackers to do it right.”
“We can’t just use the ones here?”
“It’s important to have a neutral one to cleanse the palate between taste tests. We’ll get some before canvassing tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” I smile.
I settle into the couch after Jamie drops me back home. Willow hops in my lap. I flip on The Office—my go-to show I’ve seen so many times, I know most of the dialogue by heart at this point. It’s the ultimate comfort viewing.
I pull out my phone as the theme music opens, and scroll through my feed. Four likes on my Eid selfie. A comment from my aunt Jameela in Philadelphia about how big I’m getting.
Nothing from Sara.
I click the home feed. And then I freeze.
It’s a post from Sara. A repost of Jenna’s, actually. The time stamp says it was posted forty-five minutes ago.
It’s a photo of their dorm room, all set up with cream curtains, a fluffy pastel-blue rug, and lights strung around the windows. The metal trash can is there too. The caption reads, Check out my dorm, thanks to the amazing artistic eye of my bestie and future roomie, Jenna!
It’s like I’ve been physically punched.
I screenshot the photo and text Sara.
Nice dorm room. Loving the BFF lingo.
Sara responds quicker than she has in weeks.
Ha. I’m still as much of a cheeseball as I ever was. Isn’t the room great?!
My finger hovers over the phone’s keyboard. I want to ask her why, if she’s on Instagram right now, she