She texts Jenna photos along the way. It’s like we’re hanging out with Jenna too. Which is fine. Really.
We’re about to turn into the next aisle when I pause.
“Love muffin straight ahead,” I say.
Sara looks up with a start. Her eyes widen.
It’s Kevin Mullen from school. He’s walking down the main aisle toward us, sipping an iced coffee. In school, he wears loafers, jeans, and preppy button-down shirts, always untucked. But right now, he’s in full Target uniform, with practical sneakers, khaki pants, and a bright red T-shirt. I’ve known Kevin since seventh grade and it’s probably statistically impossible not to like him, since he’s the chillest and nicest guy around. Even when he was fourteen, sporting the most extreme bowl cut known to man—everyone let it fly without a snicker. We’d gotten to know each other better this past semester when we got assigned to do a presentation on the First Amendment. He’d even come along with Sara and me to Menchie’s for frozen yogurt twice. I’m not saying we were friends exactly, but we were on our way. Of course everything fell apart when he brought Sara a basket of her favorite chocolate muffins two months ago and confessed his long-standing crush on her. When Sara told him she didn’t feel the same way, he handled it in trademark Kevin style—said it was a bummer, but he understood—but it hasn’t been the same. And Sara’s been avoiding him anytime she sees him coming. We slipped by him pretty handily when he was cleaning up an orange spill, but it’s too late to duck now. He’s spotted us.
“Hey, guys.” He walks over. Sara quickly glances down at her phone.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” I say.
“Assistant manager.” He taps his badge. “And let me tell you, it has been a day.”
“Yeah. What’s the deal?” I say as a woman grazes me with her cart. “It’s like the migration of the wildebeests.”
“It’s the Summer Trifecta,” Kevin says. “Fourth of July sales plus swim clearance and then an early-bird back-to-school special. It’ll be a zoo until August.” He looks at Sara and blushes a little. “So, you’re leaving soon, right? UGA?”
“Yes.” Sara smiles politely.
“I hope they recruit me next year,” he says. “Their basketball game is pretty strong.”
“It is.” Sara brightens, the awkwardness magically vanishing. “You should definitely take a tour and see if you like it.”
“Nah, as long as their scholarship game is strong, I’m there.”
Sara launches into a speech about the glory that is the University of Georgia and the wonder that is Athens. I suppress a laugh. I mean, don’t get me wrong, UGA has a great veterinary medicine program, so I’m all in if I get accepted there one day—but Sara’s love for that school is next level. I’m glazing over when I get a text message.
Mom: Where are you?
Maya: At Target helping Sara with some errands.
Mom: When will you be done?
Maya: We’re almost wrapping up.
Mom: Pick up some red and blue plates and napkins for the iftar while you’re there so we have extra. And come home soon. We need to have a family meeting.
I shove the phone back in my purse. I don’t want to have another meeting about this. I want to pretend it isn’t happening at all.
We say goodbye to Kevin, and I grab the plates and napkins my mother requested.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Sara says, glancing back at Kevin’s retreating figure.
“Good,” I say, slightly relieved. “Also, please tell me you’re free tomorrow. I could use some company at the campaign iftar. The food’s going to be really good.”
“Babysitting,” she says. “Sorry.”
I’m about to suggest we head to Perimeter Mall before dinner this evening, when her phone buzzes. Glancing down at it, her expression falls.
“Jenna change her mind on the color scheme?” I ask her.
“It’s Lucas.” She winces. “He fractured his wrist. He needs me to cover his shift at Skeeter’s tonight.”
“What?” My voice goes two octaves too high. “Can’t they find someone else?”
“It’s my turn to cover. I’m so sorry, Maya, I really wanted to catch up.” She glances at her phone. “I think I’m off Friday evening. I can check with Hen’s mom to see if she needs me to sit or not and let you know?”
I shrug. I’m not going to be a big baby about the fact that my best friend has to try and pencil me in like a dentist appointment. It’s not like she’s leaving soon and I won’t see her again except for holidays. Yeah.
I do