Still.
It sucks. And it hurts. And I’m afraid that it will change everything.
***
“We’ll be fine,” Sydney says for the hundredth time as I sniffle into my pillow. “I’ll be hitting you up at your new home so often you’ll wish you’d never met me.”
And that makes me snicker.
We’re both in our jammies in my bedroom. Syd’s staying over for the night, something we often do—supposedly to catch up on homework but mainly to listen to music and talk.
Tonight we’re not even pretending to be studying.
“You will visit me,” I tell her, and it’s an order. “We will hang out. All the time. Every day.” Then my bravado fails me. “Will we? Please, say yes, Syd.”
“Yes,” she says immediately, and see? That’s why I love this girl.
Our friendship is new, but strong. I can’t even remember how it started. During a school break I guess, maybe in the cafeteria, but since then, we’ve been living in each other’s pockets. We’re inseparable, and this move won’t change that.
“What about Jarett?” she asks quietly, and I flinch.
That’s exactly what—and who—I’ve been trying very hard not to think about, not to wonder what will happen.
“What about him?” I mutter.
“What did he say about this? Wait...” She scoots closer to me. “You told him, right? That you’re moving?”
The little red hearts printed on my pajama bottoms suddenly become fascinating. I study them with a frown.
“Gigi. Oh my God, you didn’t tell him.” Sydney elbows me. “Why not?”
I shrug. Wince inwardly.
“You have to tell him!”
Dear God... “I will, okay? Haven’t had the chance yet. I’m just...” Scared to death we’ll drift apart. That the tenuous thread of friendship between us won’t hold, that it will snap and we’ll part ways forever.
But no way, right? We’re friends. We’ll be fine. If Sydney and me are going to be fine, why not Jarett, too?
It’s different, something tells me. It’s not the same. No matter how you try, how you force what you have into this friendship mold, it wants to be something else, something more.
You don’t lust after your bosom friends. You just don’t. And the way I lust after Jarett... Even if he doesn’t feel the same way... is not how friends feel.
And moving away from him feels like dying.
Chapter Thirteen
Jarett
The heavy feeling in my chest hasn’t eased up. More days have passed, and Mr. Lowe is still yelling, and Mrs. Lowe is still wandering around in a strange daze, forgetting what she was about to do, what day it is, and who I am.
Fuck this.
At least Gigi is back, walking with me from the bus stop home, chattering about this and that, calming me down with every step we take.
I’ve been thinking to take her hand. I’d fucking love to hold her hand, grip it tightly to let her know I’m listening. That I’m right there, with her. That I need her to give me a chance, to give me time.
To stay.