Minutes tick by. No response from Cole. There’s a knot in my chest, one I can’t seem to soak away. Guilt. My friend wants to hang out with me, and because I’m too crazy right now, I’m ditching him, and I’ve probably hurt his feelings.
I debate for several more minutes if I should text him back and see if he’s upset with me. If he is, he’ll tell me, right?
I down the rest of my cucumber water and eat the other slice of cucumber. Drain the tub and wrap up in the towel. Pad to my room and get in my pajamas. Still no response. Dammit. This is stupid.
I grab my phone and start to pound out a text asking him if he’s upset when a message from him buzzes in.
Okay then.
That’s it. Two curt words. I’ve definitely hurt his feelings. A sour taste slides up my throat, and I swallow it down. I’m the world’s worst friend and the world’s worst sister. If I’m really going to go back into the friend zone with him, I actually have to be a friend to him.
I delete what I was going to write and type out, I would love to hang out. Sorry, I’ve had a stressful day. Let me know details. XO
I fire it off and then, while I’m at it, send a message to Christina asking if she can do lunch Sunday. She works overnights at the hospital for the next few days, so she probably won’t see it until the morning. But at least I sent it and I can’t chicken out now.
As weird as it sounds, given the situation, I actually feel a bit better. I’m doing the right thing. I keep chanting that to myself as I settle into bed with a mystery I started reading a couple of weeks ago.
My phone buzzes. It’s a reply from Cole.
Okay, if you’re sure. It’s fine if you have other plans.
He’s giving me an out. My heart squeezes. Even when I’m being a douche, he’s being thoughtful. Raw, unadulterated feelings for him make my eyes water a bit. Times like this, I don’t deserve his friendship, and I need to work harder at being there for him. I blink and write back, Absolutely sure. I’m an ass. You’re awesome. Saturday I’m free all day and ready to hang out.
It’s going to be fine. I can be an adult. Because I love him far too much to hurt him.
As I think the word “love,” there’s a prickling sensation in my chest. It’s only friendly love, I tell myself over and over again. That’s all.
“You’re glowing,” I tell Emme over lunch. “What’s going on? Did I miss your birthday or something?”
She beams with pride. “I just got my spring semester grades in yesterday. I aced all my classes. And I’m going to take a couple this summer and probably finish my degree in the fall.”
I give her a high five. “Holy shit, congrats! You’re on a roll.” I dig into my pasta salad. “We should go out tonight to celebrate. Margaritas at One Tequila?”
Her beaming smile turns to a low flush on her cheeks. Her mouth quirks. “Dane and I are going to dinner tonight, but maybe next week?” She pauses and sucks in a breath, dropping her hands to her lap. “We talked last night. He told me he thinks we should move in together at the end of the month.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Her eyes brighten. “Excited. I mean, I spend most nights over there anyway. And when I’m not there, I just lie in bed missing him.” Her soft sigh makes my heart melt…and simultaneously pinch in envy. God, I want that.
A pair of warm, familiar dark eyes flash in my mind, and I blink away that thought. Nope. This is about her, not about me and Cole. “Sounds wonderful,” I say. “I’d love to have that too.”
She reaches over and strokes my forearm, her brow furrowing. “Hey, you okay? You seem…off lately. I keep meaning to ask you but I don’t want to pry. But I’m not being a good friend if I don’t let you know I’m concerned—and that I’m here for you.”
My throat tightens. Good friend. That’s the crux of my issue, isn’t it? How to go back to being a good friend when every single square inch of me, from my skin to my lungs to my stupid heart, wants more.
I exhale. Then I spill it all out—about the incidents with Cole, about my sister (glossing over our disastrous past; that’s still too hard to confess to anyone), about my confusing feelings. The whole time, she stays quiet, letting me blab on.
When I’m done, the silence stretches between us for a moment. At the tables around us in the lunchroom, people are laughing and talking and eating. I, on the other hand, feel like I just puked my guts up on our table.
Emme finally says in an even tone, “Wow. That’s a lot of stuff to happen in a week.”
I blow out a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know the right thing to tell Christina so she doesn’t hate me forever for what’s happened. Even if I tell her we’re just friends now, it’s gonna weigh between us, regardless if nothing happens with her and Cole.”