Will you help me?” And then I was sad, because I didn’t know how either. We weren’t at my house anymore, and it was so dark. We were in the woods. We were lost.

When I woke up, I was crying and Jeremiah was asleep next to me. I sat up in the bed. It was dark, the only light in the room was my alarm clock. It read 4:57. I lay back down.

I wiped my eyes, and then I breathed in Jeremiah’s scent, the sweetness of his face, the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. He was there. He was solid and real and next to me, crammed in close the way you have to be when you are sleeping in a dorm-room bed. We were that close now. The past three days felt like a lifetime ago.

In the morning, when I woke up, I didn’t remember right away. The dream was there in the back of my head, in a place I couldn’t get to. It was fading fast, almost all the way, but not quite, not yet. I had to think hard and fast to piece it all together, to hold on to it.

I started to sit up, but Jeremiah pulled me back toward him and said, “Five more minutes.” He was the big spoon, and I was the little spoon tucked into my spot in his arms.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to remember before it was gone. Like those last few seconds before the sun sets—going, going, and then gone. Remember, remember, or the dream will slip away forever.

Jeremiah started to say something about breakfast, and I covered his mouth and said, “Shh. One sec.”

And then I had it. Conrad, and how funny he looked in his denim overalls. The two of us playing outside for hours. I let out a sigh. I felt so relieved.

“What were you saying?” I asked Jeremiah.

“Breakfast,” he said, planting a kiss on my palm.

Snuggling in closer to him, I said, “Five more minutes.

Chapter Thirteen

I wanted to tell everyone face-to-face, all at once. In a weird way, it would be perfect timing. Our families would be together in Cousins in a week. A battered-women’s shelter that Susannah had volunteered at and fund-raised for had planted a garden in her honor, and there was going to be a little ceremony next Saturday. We were all going—me, Jere, my mom, his dad, Steven. Conrad.

I hadn’t seen Conrad since Christmas. He was supposed to fly back for my mother’s fiftieth birthday party, but he bailed at the last minute. “Typical Con,” Jeremiah had said, shaking his head. He’d looked at me, waiting for me to agree. I didn’t say anything.

My mother and Conrad had a special relationship, always had. They got each other on some level I didn’t understand. After Susannah died, they became closer, maybe because they grieved for her in the same way—

alone. My mom and Conrad spoke on the phone often, about what I didn’t know. So when he didn’t come, I could see how disappointed she was, even though she didn’t say so. I wanted to tell her, Love him all you want, but don’t expect anything in return. Conrad isn’t someone who can be counted on.

He did send a nice bouquet of red zinnias, though.

“My favorite,” she’d said, beaming.

What would he say when we told him our news? I couldn’t begin to guess. When it came to Conrad, I was never sure of anything.

I worried, too, about what my mother would say.

Jeremiah wasn’t worried, but he so rarely was. He said,

“Once they know we’re serious, they’ll have to get on board, because they won’t be able to stop us. We’re adults now.”

We were walking back from the dining hall. Jeremiah dropped my hand, jumped onto a bench, threw his head back, and yelled, “Hey, everybody! Belly Conklin is gonna marry me!”

A few people turned to look but then kept walking.

“Get down from there,” I said, laughing and covering my face with my hoodie.

He jumped back down and ran around the bench once, his arms up and out like an airplane. He zoomed back over to me and lifted me up by the armpits. “Come on, fly,” he encouraged.

I rolled my eyes and moved my arms up and down.

“Happy?”

“Yes,” he said, setting me back down on the ground.

I was too. This was the Jere I knew. This was the boy from the beach house. Getting engaged, promising to be each other’s forever, it made me feel like even with all the changes over the past few years, he was still the same boy and I was still the same girl. Now nobody could take that away from us, not anymore.

Chapter Fourteen

My dad was coming the next day to move me out of the dorms. I knew I had to talk to Taylor and Anika before I went home. I debated just telling them together, but I knew that Taylor would be hurt if I lumped her, my oldest friend, with Anika, who I had known for less than a year. I had to tell Taylor first. I owed her that much.

I knew she’d think we were crazy. Getting back together was one thing, but getting married was something else entirely. Unlike most of her sorority sisters, Taylor didn’t want to get married until she was at least twenty-eight.

I called and asked her to meet me at the Drip House, the coffee shop everyone studied at. I told her I had news. She tried to get it out of me over the phone, but I resisted, saying, “It’s the kind of news you have to tell in person.”

Taylor was already seated with her nonfat iced latte when I got there. She had on her Ray-Bans, and she was texting. She put down her phone when she saw me.

I sat down across from her, careful to keep my hand in my lap.

Taking off her sunglasses, she said, “You’re looking much better today.”

“Thanks, Tay. I feel a lot better.”

“So what’s up? She scrutinized me. “Did you guys get back together? Or did you break up for real?”

I held up my left hand with a flourish. She looked at it, confused. Then her eyes focused on my ring finger.

Taylor’s eyes turned huge. “You’re effing kidding me.

You’re engaged?!” she screamed. A couple of people turned around and looked at us, annoyed. I shrank down in my seat a little. Grabbing my hand, she said, “Oh my God! Let me see that thing!”

I could tell she thought it was too small, but I didn’t care.

“Oh my God,” she said, still staring at the ring.

“I know,” I said.

“But, Belly … he cheated on you.”

“We’re starting over fresh. I really love him, Tay.”

“Yeah, but the timing is kinda suspect,” she said slowly.

“I mean, it’s really sudden.”

“It is and it isn’t. You said it yourself. This is Jere we’re talking about. He’s the love of my life.”

She just stared at me, her mouth an O. She sputtered,

“But—but why can’t you wait at least until after you finish college?”

“We don’t see the point in waiting if we’re gonna get married anyways.” I took a sip of Taylor’s drink. “We’re gonna get an apartment. You can help me pick out cur-tains and stuff.”

“I guess,” she said. “But wait, what about your mom?

Did Laurel flip her shit?”

“We’re telling my mom and his dad next week in Cousins.” We’ll tell my dad after.

She perked up. “Wait, so nobody even knows yet? Just me?”

I nodded, and I could tell Taylor was pleased. She loves being in on a secret—it’s one of her top favorite things in life.

“It’s gonna be an apocalypse,” she said, taking her drink back. “Like, dead bodies. Like, blood in the streets.

And when I say blood, I mean your blood.”

“Gee, thanks a lot, Tay.”

“I’m just speaking the truth. Laurel is the OG femi-nist. She’s like Gloria freaking Steinem. She’s not gonna like this one bit. She’ll go all Terminator on his ass. And yours.”

“My mom loves Jeremiah. She and Susannah always we’ll always have summer · 67

talked about me marrying one of her sons. It might be, like, a dream come true for her. In fact, I bet it will be.” I knew that wasn’t the least bit true even as I was saying it.