Page 66 of Here We Go Again

“Looks like y’all are ready for dessert,” Reba says as she stops beside our table. She lowers two paper serving boats onto the table, heaped high with some sort of cobbler-looking dessert. “Papaya paradise on the house.”

I don’t know if the timing of our dessert was a coincidence or if Reba was really tuned in and could tell we needed a break, but I’m grateful for the distraction. At least, temporarily.

I watch and wait as Becca scoops up her first bite and lifts it to her mouth. Her eyes widen as she chews. “Oh my gosh,” she finally says. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Right? I told you it would be.”

She lets out a little moan of pleasure as she takes her next bite. “Don’t make me do this alone,” she says, nudging my dessert toward me. “And don’t tell me you’re too full. I’m the one who ate all the hushpuppies.”

I grin and reach for my spoon. “But I ate half your shrimp.”

“You’re also twice my size,” she says before taking another bite. “Actually, you don’t have to eat yours. Because I’m going to eat all of mine, and I might want more.”

I tug my dessert toward me so it’s fully out of her reach. “Oh, you aren’t getting mine. But you need to be a little less distracting, please.”

“Distracting? How am I distracting you?”

I take my own bite of papaya paradise and let out an exaggerated moan of pleasure.

Becca gasps. “That is not how I sounded.”

“It’s exactly how you sounded.” I take another huge bite. “How’s a man supposed to focus on his food with that going on?”

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but she’s smiling, eyes bright as she polishes off the last of her dessert.

Maybe she won’t let me pay off her student loans.

But if she’ll give me the chance, I’ll never stop trying to make it up to her.

17

BECCA

Telling Theo the truth about losing my scholarship—the whole truth—felt a little like picking off an eight-year-old scab. Except the skin underneath wasn’t angry and red and raw like I feared. It was closer to being healed. A little pink, a little tender, but better for having been exposed.

It’s wild to have been an adult for years and then, in the blink of a single summer, find myself wading through ancient history, processing emotions I thought I’d never have to think about again.

But I can’t be sorry it’s happening. To say things out loud, to own them, then realize I’ve grown enough to move past them … it’s the most liberating thing I’ve ever experienced.

It almost makes me wish I’d looked Theo up a long time ago.

I look over at him, his arm propped up on the open window, sunglasses on, salty sea breeze ruffling his hair. He catches my eye and smiles.

Maybe not. Maybe I wasn’t ready before. Or he wasn’t. I guess we’ll never truly know.

Either way, I’m glad we’re here now. If nothing else, it feels good to make peace with the past in a way I didn’t think was possible.

Both of our mothers are standing on the porch of the beach house when we finally pull up. They aren’t even trying to hide their glee, and Theo lets out a chuckle from beside me.

“They look awfully proud of themselves, don’t they?” he says.

“They really do,” I agree. But I can’t bring myself to be annoyed. I haven’t seen my mom since Christmas, and the sight of her triggers a deep ache in my chest. As soon as Theo turns off the ignition, I’m out of the car and heading up the stairs to hug my mom. I don’t even pause long enough to close my door.

“Please tell me you aren’t mad,” Mom whispers as she pulls me into a hug.

I lean back and give her a pointed look. “I should be. When have you ever been this sneaky?”

“It’s me,” Kim says from where she’s standing beside us. “I’m a terrible influence.”