Forty-Two
As our henna dries, we sit outside Saffron’s tent in the camping ground. We cradle mugs of hot, milky chai tea, which she made from scratch on the campfire stove.
“I’m glad you came over, Jed,” she says. “We missed you yesterday. And I’m glad you brought Connie-girl. It’s been far too long, little sister!”
My chest fills with warmth.
“Mum and Dad were saying they missed you too, Connie-girl. They said it’s been ages since you came to visit. When they heard I was catching up with you today—”
“Wait,” Jed interrupts, his face stricken. “You told them you were meeting us? Me? Were they … are they …”
“Completely furious?” Saffron grins. “Of course they are. You know Mum and Dad. They were so unchill that you bailed during the Buble-a-thon and didn’t join us for the traditional e
