I stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the ceiling fan spin continuously around. There was gecko in the corner, right by the water damage that Abby had insisted was not a problem(I had called a repairman and they'd be coming by in two weeks). The first time I'd seen a gecko in my room I'd screamed bloody murder, so much so that Jake had nearly tripped over his own feet racing into my room to see if I was being hacked to death by a cold blooded serial killer. Now of course, I was used to them, and once Jake realized I was in no immediate danger and my heart rate returned to normal, we'd had a good laugh about it. They were sorta cute, I supposed.

    I rolled to my side, unplugging my phone from where it had been charging all night. For once, I had woken up before my alarm, and, because I heard no sounds of pots, pans, the coffee grinder, or the clinking of mugs, maybe before Jake as well.

    I scrolled through Instagram for a few minutes, smiling at the picture of Maia and I on my feed she'd posted yesterday, and trying my best not to stare too long at the picture on Kai's story of Jake and baby Ellery. I also successfully resisted the urge to click on Maia's profile and look for the thousandth time at the photo of me and Jake at the beach.

    It was easier than it had been. Especially since now every time I looked at it, I was also confronted with Tommy's comment, which had haunted me since I'd gotten the notification.

    I pulled up Reagan's contact and tapped the FaceTime button. I was pretty sure she'd pick up. It was noon there.

    Sure enough, within three rings Reagan's beaming face swam into view. I recognized her background immediately. She was at a favorite local café of ours  that doubled as a bookstore and served the best tomato soup and grilled cheese ever.

    "Hey girl, hey," she said. "What's up?"

    "Nothing much," I whispered, burrowing under the covers in order to muffle my voice.

    Her brow furrowed, "Why are you whispering?"

    "It's early here," I answered, yawning for effect, "and I think Jake's still sleeping."

    Reagan's freckled face lit up in delight at the mention of his name as she waggled her ginger eyebrows suggestively, "And how is loverboy?"

    "Reagan," I shook my head. "He's not—"

    "Soph, for the love of god, you are literally a rom-com in the making," she interrupted me. "Let me live vicariously through you."

    "We're just friends," I said quietly, smiling.

    "Just friends, my ass," scoffed Reagan. "We all saw the Insta photo, Soph."

    My stomach curdled guiltily, and I buried my face in the mattress, "Ugh. Don't remind me."

    "Speaking of loverboys..." Reagan hummed, sipping on her matcha latte. "Guess who I'm out to lunch with?"

    I paled, "Is he—?"

    "Inside," Reagan reassured me, "ordering. He'll be back soon though."

    I bit my lip, "So did you...you know?"

    "Tell him about Jake?" Reagan nodded. "Not like you gave me much choice." After I'd seen that comment I'd called Reagan in a panic and basically begged her to tell Tommy about Jake for me. I just couldn't stomach it. Not when he clearly knew of his existence, and clearly realized I had not told him some pretty vital information about my living situation despite texting and calling frequently. Ugh. Why didn't I just tell him in the first place?

    "How did it go?"

    "Fine," she shrugged. "Weird."

    "Weird how?"

    "Weird because I told him, and you didn't. Weird because I'd known about it forever and he hadn't. Weird because you're clearly close with this dude he's heard nothing about and it's Tommy. Weird because the prom stuff. Weird because, oh yeah Soph, you didn't tell him," Reagan reminded me. "Why didn't you?"

    "I don't know, " I sighed heavily. "I meant to. It's just Jake. I think they'd get along actually. He said this thing the other day about turtles that Tommy would have loved, and he's great with kids...oh!" I exclaimed, "Did I tell you we got paired together at work for the next two weeks? Jake—" I paused, noticing a look on Reagan's face. "What?"

    "You can't even talk about him without blushing," Reagan laughed fondly her herself, tilting her head at me. "Your eyes do this cheesy princess sparkle thing too."

    "Shut up," I ducked my head, feeling my cheeks burn. We were silent for a few moments

    "Is that Soph?" I heard the unmistakable sound of Tommy's voice.

    "It's me," I waved, still trying to keep quiet. "Hi, Tommy."

    "We've missed your face, Sophie," he said with a smile, looking genuinely happy to see me as he took the phone out of Reagan's hands.

    "Dude!" Reagan huffed.

    Tommy shooed her away, "Your food is ready anyways, dude."

    "I've missed your faces too," I laughed as Reagan got up to get her lunch. "And your bickering."

    "Seriously," Tommy pointed his finger at me. "You're not allowed to go away anymore. Reagan and I will end up killing each other." I realized then how long I'd been here, with Jake. How long it had been since I'd seen my best friends in person. It had gone by so fast. So much had changed. I couldn't fathom it.

    "How are things?" I asked him.

    "Alright," he replied. "You?"

    "Can't complain," I cleared my throat, an awkward silence setting over us. Oh god, where was Reagan?

    "So..." Tommy said nonchalantly, "this Jake guy." I froze, gulping. I prayed Reagan would make miraculous return and I would be saved from this conversation. No such luck.

    "He's okay," I managed, not meeting his eyes. "He's asleep right now, otherwise I'd introduce you." I'd never told a bigger lie in my life.

    "Right," Tommy scratched his head. "Reagan said you guys are like, living together."

    "And Abby," I added quickly. "It's not— I mean, it's the three of us. He sleeps on the couch. He just needed a place to stay, and we do work at the same place, and you know Abby."

    "So it was Abby's idea?"

    "Um—"

    "Alright, my turn again." I breathed a sigh of relief as Reagan wrestled the phone from Tommy's hands. "FYI your food is ready."

    "I would kill for a Mara's grilled cheese right now," I lamented.

    "That's what you get for being in Hawaii," Tommy teased lightheartedly, the earlier conversation forgotten for now. "See ya, Soph."

    "Bye, Tommy." I turned back to Reagan.

    "Saved your ass," she shot me a look. "You're welcome."

    "Have I mentioned I love you?" I blew her a kiss, so unbelievably grateful for her sixth sense of knowing when I need her. "And also that I have to say goodbye to you too?"

    "Rude."

    "I have work."

    "With Jaaake," she cooed into the phone, making a smoochy face.

    "Goodbye, Reagan." I rolled my eyes, hanging up on her before she could embarrass me any further.

    I emerged from the covers, reluctantly coaxing my body awake. I stretched, tied my hair back, made my bed, and then set about preparing all my stuff for the day. While I was washing my face, I heard the screen door swing open and closed with a telltale creak of its very rusty hinges.

    I frowned, turning the faucet off. It couldn't be Abby. She had sent me a text the night before saying she was crashing at a friends house after a party. I padded down the hall in my pajamas, surprised to find Jake in the kitchen looking well rested and very awake.

    "Damn it," I cursed, crossing my arms.

    "Every morning you just get more pleasant," Jake smirked, leaning back against the counter.

    "I thought I finally woke up before you," I explained grouchily.

    He snorted. "You're serious?"  I scowled at him, but he just grinned back at me. It was infuriatingly attractive. "You're cute."

    "Where did you even go?" I grumbled, still trying valiantly to hold onto my irritation. "If you say the gym or something else related to exercise, I might have to kill you."

    "I'd like to see you try, Randall," Jake playfully challenged, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Also, you really shouldn't kill people who get you coffee."

    "You got me coffee?" My heart melted, and I could feel myself melting along with it. All traces of annoyance dissolved, leaving me defenseless against his thoughtfulness. I turned into a gooey mess, unable to keep a frown on my face. Oh God, I hope I wasn't looking all moony-eyed.

    "Mmhmm," he confirmed, his satisfaction evident as he handed me my drink, his fingers briefly brushing against mine.

    "Is this from—?" I started, my voice filled with hope and anticipation.

    "Mmhmm," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

    "But that's, like, twenty minutes away," I pointed out, amazed by the effort he had put in.

    "I know," he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

    "And there's always a line," I continued, feeling touched by his gesture.

    "I know," he repeated, his gaze unwavering.

    "You didn't have to go all the way over there just to get me coffee," I said, my voice filled with gratitude and a hint of wonder.

    "It's your favorite," he explained, his smile warm and genuine.

    "Thank you," I whispered, feeling overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness and the way he seemed to know me so well.

    "It was nothing," he lifted a modest shoulder, but his eyes betrayed the sincerity of his words.

    "It was definitely something," I countered softly, my heart swelling with affection.

    "I also got you an almond croissant," he added, revealing another surprise from behind his back.

    "Jake—" I began, feeling a surge of emotions welling up inside me, making it difficult to find the right words.

    "What?" he interrupted playfully, his voice laced with affection. "It's a special occasion."

    "Oh yeah?" I asked, cocking my head quizzically.

    "Our first day as partners, Randall," he stated matter-of-factly. "Duh."

    "Of course." I took a sip of my latte, gratefully inhaling the delicious smell of vanilla and coffee. Ali'i's  made the best on the island, at least, according to Maia and Kai, and I was inclined to agree. Most people did, which is why it was always in high demand, even early in the morning. Their croissants were mouth wateringly amazing on top of all that, and I think Maia and I have eaten six between the pair of us in one sitting at some point this summer.

    I bit into the flaky pastry and nearly moaned. It was that good. And somehow still warm.

    Jake had fallen silent, staring pensively into his iced chai. I spotted a burrito, half eaten, on the counter behind him and my brow furrowed. Jake ate more than anyone I've ever seen, and faster than anyone I've ever seen. He was like a machine. He should already be on his second breakfast by now. Plus, he was quiet. Too quiet.

    "You okay?" I asked, tilting my head at him.

    "'Course," he replied, with a smile that did not quite reach his honey brown eyes.

    I squinted at him, "Liar."

    "What are you talking about?"

    "You didn't finish your burrito, you're not drumming your fingers," I pointed out shrewdly. "And you keep glancing over at your phone."

    Jake's eyebrows shot up so far they early disappeared into his hairline, "I'm impressed, Randall."

    "You're not the only one who notices things," I preened, more than a little proud of myself. I tossed my hair over my shoulder.

    "Well, you learned from the best," said Jake, raising himself up to his full height. He smirked.

    I held up a hand, "Don't try to distract me with your massive ego." I tapped my foot, waiting, "What's the matter?"

    "Nothing."

    "Is it your parents?"

    "No."

    "The college decision?"

    "No."

    I had a feeling that was the culprit. Ever since I'd lovingly overheard his private and heated phone conversation with his parents, it had been at the back of my mind, and clearly at the front of his. I know I just probably just leave it be. It wasn't my problem, and I shouldn't get involved...

    "How much time do you have left to decide?" I couldn't resist asking, my curiosity getting the better of me.

    Jake sighed heavily, running a hand over his jaw. "I... I really don't want to talk about this."

    "But maybe if you just did a little more research and—"

    "I—"

    "I know you're worried about disappointing your parents, but I think that—"

    He cut me off again, soft but firm, "Sophia."

    "Jake." He just shook his head at me warningly. I couldn't believe he had no idea what he wanted to do with his future. It was implausible, really. For a guy who was so confident and sure of himself, you would think— I think that if he just let himself think about it for a second without factoring in his parents, but of course he wouldn't because he refuse to dwell on the situation at all. I should really just not get involved. Not my problem. "I know, but can I say one more—"

    "Just drop it," Jake pleaded, his eyes softening slightly. "Please, Sophia."

    "Sorry," I apologized, fighting the urge to finish my sentence. "But—"

    "Sophia," he repeated, a warning lacing his voice.

    I clamped my mouth shut, a mixture of frustration and resignation settling in. "I'm staying out of it."

    "Are you?" he challenged.

    "Yes," I said, stretching out my pinkie finger as a symbol of my good faith. "Pinky promise."

    He curled his pinkie around mine, reminding me once again how much larger his hands were. Honestly, it was kind of hot. Okay, it was really hot. My fingertips tingled with electricity as my skin touched his.

    We released pinkies and he folded his arms, tossing me a wry smile. "I can't even begin to describe how little I believe you," he remarked, his skepticism evident.

    Yeah. I didn't believe me either.

    The ride to KVE was relatively silent, apart from the low sounds of my carefully curated "driving" playlist. I'd gotten aux today. Jake hadn't even tried o fight for it this morning, a sure sign his dilemma was still bothering him. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine provided a backdrop to our thoughts as we both stared out at the passing scenery.

    I gazed out the window, watching the green hills roll past. I could see storm clouds gathering on the north end of the island, and hoped it would peter out before it reached us. I really didn't feel like dealing with more mud than usual today. I dared a glance over at Jake, who was still staring resolutely forward, baseball cap sat backwards on his brown curls that had only been made lighter by countless hours in the sun. His fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than usual, and I was struck by the strange urge to put my hand over his.

    I felt my cheeks warm at the very thought, and I silently reprimanded myself. No, Sophia. I was just being a good friend. I wanted him to relax. Because I was his friend. We were friends. Not even. Coworkers. I was being a good coworker. For the good of KVE.

    With a mental shake, I focused my attention elsewhere, tapping out a quick text to my grandma before we pulled into the lot.

    We were running just the slightest bit late, so we rushed into the main office just in time for morning announcements. Otis rattled off our assignments for day. Jake and I were scheduled for only one tour today, which was nice, but meant that it was the longest, and that we were on hose duty. To be honest though, my favorite excursion was the longest one. It was nearly six hours altogether. A trek through the forest to the river, a kayaking portion, then a hike up the mountain to a lookout point, then back down to the waterfall where we ate and swam for an hour before heading back to base.

    It was my favorite because:

    a.  It was the most informative, and it was pretty family or big group centric. I got to talk all about the nature and just enjoy being outside.

    b. Most importantly, it was one of the least dangerous. There were no ATVs, no horses, no ropes courses, and no ziplines. And not to toot my own horn or anything, but I'd gotten pretty damn good at kayaking

    My least favorite was the horseback riding excursion. I just was not a horse person, with all the pop and the dust, and— just no thank you.

    "I'm still mad we're not together," huffed Maia, as we packed up our bags with the food for our tour groups.

    "Otis is against us," I concurred sympathetically. "Don't worry," I consoled her, "I'll have an absolutely awful time without you."

    "Hey!" Jake called out reproachfully

    "Hush, you," I rolled my eyes at him, tossing his water bottle at him.

    "I am wounded," he sniffed overdramatically clutching his chest. "Did the croissant mean nothing?"

    "How am I supposed to work with him?" I gestured at Jake, who was currently sporting the biggest puppy dog pout known to man.

    Kai stifled a chuckle, "Somehow I think you'll manage, Soph."

    "Sophia!" Otis shouted into his megaphone. Someone seriously needed to take that thing away from him. "Jake! Your tour group is arriving!"

    Well, that was our cue. "Come on, Sherlock," I grabbed Jake's arm and dragged him to the meeting spot for our tour, right by the classic KVE vans that often sounded as if they would never drive again. I spotted a family of five checking in at the front desk, and two older couples filling out their waivers at the tables already. I fiddled with my necklace as the people started to make their way over to Jake and I. This was one of the most nerve wracking parts of the job, in my opinion. I was so not good at meeting new people, and as a self proclaimed introvert, I felt supremely awkward at all times.

    Jake, on the other hand, with his mega watt smile and larger than life personality, managed to charm anyone in a matter of seconds. He was fun, light, engaging, and always full of energy. Dads loved him, moms loved him, kids loved him, everyone loved him. I couldn't blame them really.

    "Randall," he nudged my shoulder with his own. "You're gonna be great," he murmured, brushing his hand against mine briefly.

    "I'm fine," I lied through my teeth. He could read my mind, I swear. It was so annoying how right he was all the time.

    "Yeah, okay," he arched an eyebrow as I tucked my hair behind my ears.

    There were thirteen people in all on our tour. Two middle aged couples who seemed to know one another, one with a son, and three twenty something guys who were clearly here for some sort of bachelor celebration. Plus a family of five, two boys around eleven or twelve, and a girl who didn't look more than eight.

    The father of the family of three immediately shook Jake's hand, spotting within moments his t-shirt emblazoned with the name of some sports team. Presumably football.

    "You play?" The man asked Jake. His son, who looked about freshman age, groaned.

    "Yes, sir," Jake nodded. "Varsity, all four years." Ugh. Men.

    I zoned out slightly as the father continued talking to Jake about football positions and teams and who knows what else. His son looked even less enthused than me.

    I felt a tap at my shoulder. "Excuse me?" A woman said. I turned around to find the mother of the family of five. "Is there somewhere my daughter can put her book?" I looked down at the little girl, who was clutching a dilapidated paperback tightly to her chest.

    "We have lockers for personal items just in there," I pointed at the building to the left of us.

    "Let's go, Quincy," the mother urged. But the little girl shook her head, refusing to budge. "Quincy, honey, you can't bring your book on the hike."

    "Why not?" The little girl whined, holding the book even closer to her.

    "It'll get wet, or dirty," her mother explained impatiently. "Now, come on, everyone's waiting."

    "I promise it'll be safe in the lockers while we're out," I said, smiling at her. I understood the urge to bring a book everywhere better than anyone. In some instances, it was like a security blanket. "What kind of book is it?"

    "Mystery," Quincy answered, eyeing me warily.

    "I love mystery books too," I told her, holding out my hand. "And I really wouldn't want anything to happen to your book on the hike, so I can put in the locker for you if you want?"

    "But—" I could see her lip starting to tremble.

    "The Ghost of Blackwood Hall?" I heard Jake say over my shoulder. He knelt down to meet the girl's eye level. "Sick," he exclaimed. "Nancy Drew is awesome."

    "You know Nancy Drew?"

    "She's the best," Jake said. "Who's your favorite? Bess, George, Or Nancy?"

    "Nancy," Quincy murmured shyly.

    "A purist," Jake winked. "Respect." Rising back to his feet, "I'll make you a deal." Jake offered, "I have some super cool waterproof bags for stuff that I keep in my backpack, like my phone and my camera, and I have a couple extra today...so if it's chill with your mom, maybe I can put Nancy in one of those bags and carry her with me while we're on the hike."

    "What do you think Quincy?" her mom looked gratefully at Jake as we all awaited the little girl's response.

    "He'll keep it safe," I reassured her.

    "Scout's honor," Jake echoed, holding his hand up solemnly.

    Reluctantly, Quincy handed her book over to Jake, and let her mom lead her back to the rest of her family.

    I put my hands on my hips, teasing, "Nancy Drew?"

    "What?" He retorted

    "You made fun of me for Agatha Christie, but you know a disturbing amount of information about Nancy Drew," I accused him, whacking him across the shoulder.

    "Well, I've read them all," he admitted. "I used to be way into that shit when I was little."

    "Seriously?"

    "Not the murder stuff," he clarified, looking at me pointedly, "but detectives. Holmes, Drew, Dupin, Mars..." he trailed off, grinning.

    "So I guess Sherlock's pretty spot on," I muttered under my breath.

    "It's funny you call me that, actually," he remarked offhandedly, shouldering his backpack once more. "When I was younger all I wanted to be when I grew up was a detective.

    "Not anymore?"

    "I mean," he shrugged, "it's not like a real thing I could do. It would be cool though."

    "I think you'd be a great detective," I said, locking eyes with him.

    He beamed, "Yeah?"

    "Yeah, Sherlock," I smiled, "I do."