Chapter 1

Ginny's POV

I finished dinner and set my fork down. Before I could even get up, my older brother, Gavin Abbott, slid four plates toward me.

"Ginny, could you do the dishes? Bryan, Ethan, and I have been busy making dinner all night. You haven't done a single thing. It's your turn." Gavin made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was true. I hadn't done anything at all. I had worked overtime until 9:00 pm and had only just gotten home. I didn't buy anything for dinner, and neither my boyfriend, Bryan Hadley, Gavin, nor my childhood friend, Ethan King, had bothered to prepare anything for me. They only added a seat for me at the table at the very last minute.

I hummed in response, got up, and started clearing the dishes.

Martha Baker also got up and slowly rolled up her sleeves. "Gavin, let me do it. I ate quite a bit earlier."

But Gavin stopped Martha and smiled at her fondly. "You should rest. You need those hands for your design work.

"What if you hurt those hands on these greasy dishes? What are you going to do?"

"It's fine. I can do the dishes."

Bryan patted the couch. "Just stop arguing and let Ginny do the dishes. You're the youngest here. Why would we ever let you do all the hard work?"

Sure, I was older than Martha, but we were only two months apart.

Martha glanced at me, then at the stack of dirty dishes. She deliberately let out a dramatic sigh. She obediently sat on the couch and stuck her tongue out at Bryan. "I'll buy Ginny some hand cream next time."

Bryan grinned. "You're so sweet."

The entire room broke into laughter again.

I stood next to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water was extremely cold. A greasy film spread across the surface, along with bits of vegetables.

Martha needed those hands for her design work, but so did I. She had to keep her hands away from grease, but it was fine for me to wash the dishes for everyone else.

One by one, I washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away in the cabinet. After closing the cabinet door, I dried my hands.

They were all in the living room, going over their plans for tomorrow. Gavin's voice drifted into the kitchen.

"Ginny, it's Saturday tomorrow. Let's have breakfast together."

They had already worked out everything without even asking me. They were simply informing me of their decision.

"Got it," I answered softly. I didn't leave the kitchen right away. I stood next to the sink for some time, a dull ache lingering in my chest.

I reached for my phone and opened my chat with my department manager. I typed something out, then deleted it. I typed out another message, but I ultimately closed the chat without sending it.

On Saturday morning, my alarm rang, but I turned it off. "Bryan, could you wake me up in five minutes?"

There was no response.

I looked up and realized the spot beside me in bed was empty. I walked out of the room, only to find the entire house was empty too.

I sent a message in our five-person group chat. "Where are you guys?"

Bryan replied, "You're finally awake. We're at our usual spot. Come join us."

But no one bothered to tell me why none of them were at home.

Our usual spot was the diner at the end of the alley. By the time I got there, Bryan, Gavin, Ethan, and Martha had already started eating. There were only four seats by the window, which was just enough for the four of them.

Martha spotted me and waved. "Ginny, over here."

Martha squeezed closer to Bryan, doing her best to make space for me at the corner of the table. I took my seat, my elbow pressed against the wall. I could barely reach the maple syrup in the middle of the table.

"What took you so long?" Gavin dug into his food without even looking up at me.

"Traffic was pretty heavy, so it took me some time to get here."

"We thought you weren't coming, so we started breakfast first. As for your food…" Gavin paused. "Never mind. Why don't you order something yourself?"

I got up, went to the counter, and ordered a plate of waffles. Then I went back to the cramped space at the corner of the table.

Bryan pushed a plate of cinnamon rolls toward Martha. "You love cinnamon rolls, don't you? Have them while they're still warm."

Martha took a bite and said through a mouthful of food, "Bryan queued for 40 minutes just to get these cinnamon rolls. You should try them."

I glanced at the cinnamon rolls, which were even farther away from me than the maple syrup. I gave up on reaching for them.

No one asked me if I wanted anything. I lowered my head and finished my waffles, which cost me four dollars. I had to pay for them myself.

On the way home, Martha held her phone and yelled, "Check it out. I edited these photos. They look pretty good, right?"

I checked my Instagram and saw that she had made a new post with nine photos.

The caption was, "Sunrise with my favorite people."

There were nine photos of the four of them on the mountaintop. I was clearly not there.

I stopped, finally understanding why all of them were gone this morning.

"Why didn't you invite me?" The moment I asked, everyone turned to look at me.