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“Hey,” I say, my voice uncharacteristically quavering with nerves. “It’s been a while.”

“How are y—I’ve been meaning to—what’s up?”

I’m glad he doesn’t finish that first question. There’s nothing worse than people asking me how I’m doing. I’m either forced to lie and say everything is fine when it’s not or tell the truth and make them uncomfortable.

“The clients that reserved the hike on Friday want to know if they can move it to tomorrow,” I say, getting straight to business. “I know you might be busy…”

“No. It’s fine. I’ll ask Bryce to cover my shift at the bar. Tomorrow’s good.”

“Great.” The first bit of good news I’ve heard all day. “We’ll see you on the trail tomorrow at seven a.m. sharp.”

“See you tomorrow, Amelia.”

Blake

“See you tomorrow, Amelia.” I hang up the phone, feeling a mixture of excitement and guilt.

Her voice, while friendly, held an apprehensive undertone that twisted my gut into knots.

I should have called her before. I should have checked up on her, made sure she was alright after the breakup, told her that she had a friend in me no matter what happened with Ethan. But how could I when other than Ethan—and Charlotte—I was sure that I was the last person she ever wanted to see.

I won’t admit that fear of seeing her crying had any impact on my choice to keep my distance, because letting your friends suffer alone just to save yourself from emotional pain is the lowliest, most cowardly thing someone could do.

And I am no coward, but…

I swallow down that thought with a large gulp of my coffee and slam the cup back down on the oak-top bar, making my brother, Bryce, jump.

“What do you need me to cover you for?” he asks, wiping down a beer glass before storing it away on a shelf below the bar.

“I’m sorry.” I get up from the bar stool and bring my cup to the sink to rinse it out. “I know you wanted the day off for your birthday, but the hikers I was supposed to lead on Friday asked if we could move it to tomorrow. I couldn’t tell Amelia no.”

From the way his eyes darken at the mention of her name, I know Bryce won’t be able to say no either. To say that we’ve all been carrying a lot of guilt since Amelia and Ethan’s breakup would be an understatement. We don’t like that she’s been cut off from the group even though she’s done nothing wrong. But what could we do? We let the two of them lead how they wanted to deal with the breakup, and Ethan seemed to think that since we were his friends first, he should remain part of the group.

There’s not much any of us can do about it. And we do want Ethan to stay. It’s been the six of us—the gang—since high school. None of us wants to lose another member. But it doesn’t mean we have to like it.

To be honest, none of us have hung out much since the separation. We’re all having a hard time forgiving Ethan.

“You can have Friday off,” I say, slapping Bryce on the back as I pass by. “I’ll cover your shift.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

But despite his agreement, I can tell something’s not sitting right with him.

I grab the pile of mail next to the cash register.

“What is it?” I ask.

I know it must have to do with more than just working the morning shift on his birthday. Bryce has never been scared to work hard.

“Charlotte’s working tomorrow morning.”

His voice is perfectly neutral as he says it, but I know what he really means. He doesn’t want to see her, let alone work with her.

And I don’t blame him.

It’s not just Amelia that Ethan and Charlotte fooled. It was all of us. Bryce in particular. While Charlotte never officially dated Bryce, she flirted with him to get access to our friend group. She pretended to like him, when all this time, she was hunting for Ethan.

She had been working at the bar for a few months when she started to show interest in Bryce, asking to go with him to all our outings. Of course, we know now that she did it to be closer to Ethan, so the two of them could hang out with none of us being the wiser.