Because of my dad’s high-profile career, my brother and I were told to keep the divorce quiet for months until my parents had a settlement in place. It was really hard to go to school and pretend like everything was okay when my world was falling apart. I can’t tell you the number of nights I snuck over to Chase’s room for comfort. Snuggled up with him. Slept in his bed.
My phone chirps with a text from him, causing me to startle at the thought that he must have known I was thinking of him.
Chase: Hey, I’m in the car, on the way home from the airport. What’s up with the big announcement tonight?
Me: You don’t know?
Chase: I’ve been gone for almost three weeks. I don’t know anything.
Me: Hmm. I figured they were gonna tell us you got drafted already. I can just see the headlines. “Phenom High School QB Gets Drafted in an Unprecedented Move.”
Chase: Give me a break. I’m not that good. And after being at camp, that’s very apparent. I have a lot of work to do.
Me: My dad says you are going to be better than him someday.
I can practically hear Chase rolling his eyes through the phone.
Chase: That is the goal. But so much can happen between now and then. You’ll see.
“I’m going to head over to the Mackenzies’,” I tell Dad and Jennifer as I take Weston to her Exersaucer.
When I set her down, she starts wiggling like she can’t wait. She loves standing up in that thing and batting all the rattles and toys, although, these days, she seems to do so with more intent. She’s also starting to babble random sounds. Dad is already convinced that she says dada, and she does but not toward him. I keep saying Da-ni, hoping that my name will be the first real word she says. I read that babies usually say dada or even doggie first. So, Dani should be easy.
I can’t help but laugh to myself as I walk out on the front porch and take a seat on the steps. Chase is the reason everyone but my parents calls me Dani. He couldn’t say Devaney when he was little, and no matter how hard his parents tried, he’d only say Dani.
In the videos of us when we were young, I couldn’t make the S sound very well, and I called him Chafe, which is kind of funny because although he’s been my best friend my whole life, sometimes, he does rub me the wrong way. Particularly when he thinks it’s his duty to protect me. I’ll never forget how mad I was when he was in eighth grade and I was a freshman, and he showed up at a party to rescue me from a hot senior quarterback who had been flirting with me. Granted, the senior had been drinking, and I was considering letting him drive me home.
Okay, so I might have been a little drunk myself.
Anyway, the senior got upset about Chase wanting to get me out of there, threw a punch at him, missed, and hit the fireplace instead, breaking his throwing hand. Which, crazily enough, meant that Chase got moved up to the high school team. Then, through a series of events where the team’s other quarterback got injured, Chase ended up leading the high school team in the state playoffs. We lost, but Chase’s athletic ability certainly made an impression.
This past school year, he and a junior shared QB duties, but three games into the season, Chase won the starting role. Everyone knows that as long as he stays healthy, he’ll keep that spot for the rest of his high school career.
A car pulls into the driveway next door, which causes me to leap to my feet.
Chase gets out of the car and grins in my direction, which, after three weeks apart, practically devastates me. He dressed up for the flight home, wearing a long-sleeved white linen shirt, which is hanging, untucked, over a pair of navy shorts. His normally short brown hair has gotten bleached out and a little shaggy, highlighting his tan face and blue eyes.
I run over, leap into his arms, and give him a quick peck on the lips.
“I’m going to sound like my grandmother when I say this, but I swear, Chase, you look like you’ve grown.”
He shoots me a wink, something he’s done since he learned how. In fact, I’m pretty sure he learned how just so he could wink at me.
“They measured us at camp. I’m officially six two and three quarters. And that was in bare feet.”
“Which means you’ll be six-three this season in your cleats, better able to see over the defense.”
If there’s one thing I know, it’s football. I have to admit, I’m jealous of my dad’s offer today. That’s like my dream job. To be on the sidelines or in the booth, interviewing players, breaking down the game for those who don’t understand all its intricacies.
“Exactly,” he says, pulling me back into a hug. “I missed you, Dani.”
I melt into his broad chest.
He kisses the top of my head, and it’s then when I notice it.
“Chase! You’re in a boot! What happened?”
“Just a slight sprain. The doc up there said it’s best to overreact on healing. I’m only supposed to wear it for a few more days and then it will be a distant memory. You want to go inside now, or do you wanna stand out here all night and hug me?” He gives me a sweet smile. “Not that I would mind. I missed you. You barely texted me.”
“That’s because I knew after a long day of working out, you’d shower, eat, and then go to sleep.”
“The camps and training were great, but I was exhausted every single night.”
“Told you,” I say, letting go of him.
“I brought you a present.” He picks his duffel up and slings it over his shoulder. “You can open it in my room.”
I figured the whole family would be inside, waiting to greet him, so I’m pleasantly surprised when we get to go up to his room alone.
He drops the duffel on the floor and pulls something out of a side pouch. “Two things for you,” he says, pulling me down on the bed with him. He’s got a wrapped package in his hand, but he leans over and kisses me first.
We’ve been friends forever, so it’s not like we haven’t kissed before.
But this kiss … it feels a little different.
It lasts a little longer than usual.
Probably because we haven’t seen each other in so long.
We’re friends.
Best friends.
We love each other.
And we kiss sometimes.
When he ends the kiss, he does what he always does after he kisses me. He pulls away and just looks at me with a goofy grin on his face. Like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar but doesn’t care because the cookie was worth it.
“I really did miss you.”
“I really missed you, too, Chase.”
“You know, your brother sends me texts all day and tells me what’s happening. He assumes I will read them all and will reply when I can.”
“That’s because my brother has no problem with carrying on a conversation with himself.”
“So true.” Chase laughs but then his lips flatten into a straight line. “But it means that I, um, have heard you’ve been hanging out with Hunter Lansford, and I was just wondering if he is the reason why we haven’t talked much.”