So I move closer to her and whisper, “Hey.”
She shoots me a startled glance. “Hey.”
“I think you should tell her,” I say.
Jupiter’s eyes go wide because she knows what I’m talking about. And who: Callie.
“No.”
“I know you’re afraid of coming clean to her. But she’s the nicest ever. She’ll —”
She breathes sharply. “No.”
“But —”
“No. End of discussion.”
I give her a look. “So what, you’re just going to sit here and stare.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You are.”
“Echo.”
“So you didn’t catch that goal he made?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Oh, and you totally didn’t gasp and jump when he slipped and fell a few minutes ago.”
She swallows. “It doesn’t matter. It’s gross. And he has a girlfriend.”
My heart twists for my best friend. “That’s why you need to tell her. You need people on your side. And she will be, trust me. She’ll understand. And it’s not your fault. Not the gross thing, which I don’t even think is gross at all.Andalso not the second,” I drop my voice even lower, “that despite all of that, you like her brother anyway.”
Her emerald eyes cloud over. “I can’t.”
“So you’re never going to tell her who you are.”
“No.”
“But Jupiter, I think that’s a mistake. I think —”
She covers my hand and squeezes. “Just drop it. Please.”
I do then.
Because I don’t want to compound her misery. It’s plenty miserable loving someone without them knowing, without them even acknowledging your presence. It’s even more miserable loving them when you know you’re not supposed to for so many reasons out of your control. And even though I think Jupiter should do what I’m telling her to do, I will support her no matter what.
By the way, the guy we’re talking about here is Shepard Thorne, one of Callie’s brothers. And I so wish that he didn’t already have a girlfriend and that he’d take notice of my pretty best friend. Despite her thinking that it’s gross.
It’s not and he doesn’t.
All throughout the game, and it breaks my heart.
Anyway, if not for my best friend’s misery, it’s one of the best days of my summer so far.
Even when all my friends interrogate me about what’s happening with me and my own soccer player. Who by the way is the best player among all the guys here. He even scores the winning goal, making me so elated for him and sad that he won’t be playing professionally.
My friends flood me with questions.
I probably shouldn’t have told them everything from start to finish, but ever since we all got our phones back, after graduating from St. Mary’s, we’re all continuously chatting and texting and calling each other. So these girls know every bit of my story now, all the good, bad and embarrassing parts.