"So, you're hitting on Clare the Fair." "I'm not hitting on her. I'm exploring the possibility of seeing her on social terms." "He's hitting on her," Owen said around a mouthful of chips. "You've still got that thing you had for her back in high school. Are you still writing bad song lyrics about heartbreak?" "Suck me. And they weren't that bad." "Yeah, they were," Ryder disagreed. "But at least now we don't have to listen to you playing your keyboard and howling them down the hall."
This quote beautifully captures the playful banter and camaraderie among friends, brilliantly humanizing their interactions with humor and candidness. The dialogue reveals the layers of friendship—where teasing and outright honesty coexist, creating a lively dynamic that readers can easily relate to. The characters’ interplay is not just amusing but also touches on deeper themes such as lingering feelings, personal growth, and the vulnerability behind artistic expression. Ryder’s denial of hitting on Clare contrasts Owen’s blunt observations, emphasizing how past emotions can subtly influence present actions, especially when old crushes resurface in adulthood. The reference to Ryder’s songs about heartbreak adds an element of self-awareness and endearment, highlighting how creative outputs can serve as windows into one’s emotional world, even if others perceive them as "bad." The back-and-forth about the music and the “howling” keyboard playing is a warm depiction of friendship’s casual truths, where honesty is seasoned with affection rather than malice. Overall, the exchange serves as a microcosm of the complexities within interpersonal relationships, weaving humor with heart in a manner characteristic of Nora Roberts’ writing in The Next Always. It reminds us that despite life's trials, the connections we nurture through honest dialogue and shared history remain precious and often the source of both laughter and healing.