...

Meg swings her car into Back Bay's side lot at 4:30 on the dot. I see Brooks's old truck parked out front. Oh, the mems. I suppose if I do happen to see him today, well at least I'm having an incredibly cute fall fashion day.

The front door bangs open. For a second, my hearts jumps at the prospect of seeing Brooks step outside, of him seeing me in Meg's car and waltzing over to chat me up. Holy fuck, I am 14 years old. It's only Trix, coming down the steps holding up Travis's truck keys. She tosses them to Meg.

I grab the brown bag from Meg's backseat and carry it over to the truck. Trix comes back out of the door carrying about six blankets and three large pillows.

"For the bed," Trix says to me, handing off some blankets.

"Gotcha." I take them.

We load up the truck bed with the concessions, blankets, and pillows. I let Meg take shotgun and slide into the backseat. The truck smells like Travis.

"Okay! Let's go," Trix says, rolling down the windows.

"Wonder what's playing tonight," Meg says, thumbing the radio.

"How does Travis live with FM radio?" I laugh.

The ride is only about 10 minutes down the road. Fall air whips me in the face through the open windows and I enjoy every minute of it. Trix turns off the main road and gravel crunches beneath the tires as she pulls into the parking lot.

A warm incandescent orange glow illuminates the walkway to the bathrooms. My eyes find the large neon-lit DRIVE-IN sign, still original from the 50s.

We fluff up all the blankets, arranging them into a makeshift bed in the back of Travis's truck. Trix lines the pillows all along the back windows. Meg gets a bucket for the popcorn and I open the Twizzlers.

"Sight for sore eyes," I say, stepping back to admire the set-up.

"Obsessy," Trix says.

"Hey, guess what the 5:00 showing is," Meg says, holding up a pamphlet thing.

"Hint," I request, ripping into a piece of candy with my teeth.

"Eighties, baby," Meg smirks.

"YAS!" Trix laughs. "The eighties love us."

"Um, Top Gun?" I ask.

"ET? Pretty in Pink?" Trix asks.

"Closer." Meg tosses the pamphlet onto the truck bed. "Breakfast Club."

"Of course," I laugh.

We are all set and cozied up under the blankets when the movie starts 10 minutes later. There's something about drive-in theaters that almost makes the intangible tangible. Like, this whole mood is a feeling that I can't place, or explain, but sitting in this truck bed with my besties beneath changing leaves is the closest I'll get to holding it.

We watch the first half an hour or so, laughing at the old outfits and lowkey obsessing over Judd Nelson's bad boy era. Of course, we bring up the '80s party at the cabin last year. They bring up Cece again and we spend some time ragging on her latest Instagram post.

"Basically just a thirst trap," Meg says.

"Well yea, duh. Can you blame her? She gets dumped by a nobody. I'm sure her ego is bruised," Trix adds.

"Nothing a few thousand likes won't fix," Meg laughs.

I laugh too, but only halfheartedly. I wonder if Brooks sees it that way -if the guys are all at Back Bay right now looking at Cece's latest photoshoot -if Brooks still follows her. I wonder if he regrets calling it off.

I'm almost at the bottom of my second root beer bottle when I remember Brooks's words from our own private FaceTime. She was without.

"What is it?" Trix asks, eyes narrowed in my direction.

"I-"

"And don't say nothing," Meg cuts across me.

"Was just thinking about something." I bite my tongue.

"Oh? Could this something be a someone?" Trix asks.

"You guys won't let up, huh?" I laugh sadly.

"Uh-uh. Nope." They both say.

I stare at my two besties, tucked beneath the same blanket as me, popcorn bucket between them, their darkening silhouettes stark against the setting sky. The pinky-blue sunset is next level art right now.

"Fine," I finally cave.

I turn myself to face them more, Emilio Estevez be damned. I see their eager faces, ripe and rapt for whatever juicy story they think I have.

"Okay, so you know the call we had?" I begin, the smile already spreading over my face. "Everyone had hung up and we were talking to Brody and Lauren for a bit. Then they hung up and-"

I pause for their sharp intakes of breath.

"He confessed his love for you?" Trix says.

"You guys had phone sex."

"Meg!" I laugh, throwing my head back. "Shut the fuck up. No."

"Okay, okay, sorry continue."

"We just talked, well, FaceTimed," I finish rather lamely.

"For how long?" Trix questions.

"The rest of the night. Until my phone died? I don't know because we fell asleep around 4 AM," I explain.

"You both fell asleep?" Meg peers over at me.

"Yes," I nod.

"Wait, so after that call you guys kept talking the whole night?" Trix says, setting things straight.

"Yes," I nod again.

"Was that planned? How did that happen?"

"What'd you guys even talk about?" Meg asks.

"Love confessions?"

"No, there weren't any confessions! Stop asking that." I brush it off.

I think of our secret sharing. Of the letters.

"Maybe there was one confession," I admit.

Their faces are lit by shadows now, flashes of color from scenes on the screen. I have their undivided attention.

"He told me that he wrote me a letter. I don't know when but I think from before the cancelled engagement," I share.

"A letter?"

"Wait, what!"

"I have no other details beyond that," I insist, popping some kernels in my mouth.

"Mhmm." They both nod.

"Emmy, he called it off for you and I'll die on this hill," Trix says, matter-of-fact.

"There's really no other explanation," Meg agrees.

"I don't know, guys. I don't think he liked the lack of privacy, the hustle of it all, always having events and shit. It's a lot to commit to," I say.

"Maybe, but also, because of you," Meg laughs.

"Oh, for sure," Trix giggles.

I throw a Twizzler at their heads and I hear them squeal as it flies over the edge of the truck.

"So what's all this mean?" Trix asks, propping herself up straighter.

"That's the problem, I don't know. I mean, he hasn't even acknowledged it or-" I say.

"Wait, wait," Meg says, interrupting. "You're forgetting a very insanely important detail."

"Oh?"

"What?" Trix asks.

"During this all-nighter call, did you happen to broach the topic of you and Josh? He probably spent that whole call thinking you were still sleeping next to Josh that night."

"Excellent point, Meg," Trix nods.

"No, it didn't come up," I say. "And maybe I was careful to not bring it up?"

"What?!"

"But why?"

"You guys kill me, you know?"

"It was just so new. I hadn't even told you guys yet. This bitch kept bringing up a sailing weekend," I laugh, pointing an accusatory finger at Trix.

"So does he know now?" Meg asks.

"I – No?" I question my own answer. "Maybe? I'm sure if Travis and Nate know, then Brooks knows."

"Also a fair point," Meg says.

"I'll do recon tonight," Trix promises.

"There's no recon to do guys. I just, I want to get through this wedding weekend with my soul and spirit intact." I pull the flannel up from my waist and put it on over my sweater, cozying up even more in the chilly air.

"What good is your soul intact if your heart's not, babe?" Trix asks, placing a hand on my knee through the blanket.

"I just can't do it to myself. I want to, fuck do I want to," I smile sadly. "But I have to have more respect for myself. You know? I won't be the one to go after him. I won't chase something down that's already walked away from me. Multiple times."

"But he's -changed," Trix says. "At least I think."

"Certainly, seems older, maybe wiser too." Meg chews her lip. "Plus, he did propose to Cece. That was a big step."

"Was it?" I ask, thinking again about our proposal count debate.

"Won't know if you don't at least try," Meg says.

"I try, I die," I joke.

"Good to see you're still melodramatic." Trix pats my arm.

"Always," I laugh.

"Well, we won't judge you, you know," Meg says. "Collective we."

"Either way. With or without Brooks," Trix clarifies. "We see both sides."

"I see them too. I just don't know which side makes more sense," I frown.

It's quiet now, apart from the voiceover on the movie. I pull the blankets up closer to my neck. The air smells like earth and leaves and popcorn. I find myself thinking about Zoë's question again.

What's my whole dream life?

And in that life, who's beside me at the drive-in?