My best friend is one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on. Along with her pecan brown skin and thick and wavy dark hair, she looks like she just walked right out of a heavenly dream sequence in a motion picture. Like Drew O’Brien, Blair Wilson is perfection personified.
Drew.
My spirit groans out his very name in mourning. I’ve been an absolute wreck since he left here not long after nine o’clock this morning. Although we fucked nice and slow before sunrise, it didn’t fill the void that his inevitable departure inflicted. If anything, that sweet grand finale makes me feel worse.
After eating the breakfast I prepared, we engaged in a very long, passionate kiss. I told him I was worried about him driving all the way home. According to Drew, the drive from Salinas to San Francisco is normally about two-hours, but not when your governor is an inconsiderate dick. I swear—if they elect this man for anything after this, they’ll need their heads examined.
Drew proceeded to tell me that after his meeting in Salinas, he’ll head back north to San Jose, which is an hour drive and opposite of traffic. From there, his car will be transported home, and he’ll board one of his jets.
I keep forgetting that Drew is insanely rich. An unassuming young man driving an old classic convertible doesn’t necessarily scream ‘filthy rich’ to me. I didn’t realize the full scope of his wealth until I finally had access to the internet here at the beach house.
Holy shit, I gasped after the first Google search. Drew O’Brien was everyfuckingwhere. Links pertaining to the thirty-one-year-old billionaire tech lord spanned for many pages. I saw photographs of him with dignitaries and other images of him holding out a large pair of scissors in various ribbon cutting ceremonies. There were pictures of him walking the red carpet solo at charity galas. But the photos that made my knees even weaker were the ones of him standing on stage in a bespoke suit while presenting to large gatherings of people.
There is no doubt in my mind that he has tons of women clamoring for his attention back in San Francisco. In the grand scheme of things, I feel like a tiny little blip in Drew O’Brien’s massive radar of life.
Things might’ve been good while we were together on the road, but that’s all over. I can’t continue to dwell on what we had as if it were more than what it truly was—which was simply a good time. In the hours between Drew’s departure and Blair’s arrival, I’ve been telling myself to just think fondly on these past five days and move on. It was what it was at the time, and it will never be anything else.
Even if nothing happens for the remainder of summer, I’ll know without a doubt that I had the time of my life with Drew. There will never be another summer that will top this one. I’ve accomplished exactly what I set out to do, which was to totally forget about Jake Barker.
Unfortunately, it took falling hard for someone else and getting my heart ripped in two for that to happen.
Fuck.
Goodbyes are so hard. Right before Drew left, there was no “see you later.” We simply kissed, and he walked away. Thank God my tears waited until after he drove off.
In spite of how heartbroken I feel right now, I understand that my brief time with him served its purpose. He has a life in San Francisco, while I’m still trying to figure out mine in Portland. During our entire time together, Drew never brought up San Francisco to me. That’s when I really knew that this was truly goodbye.
Had he brought up the option of me moving to his hometown to start my career there—in my smitten state, I probably would’ve taken him up on it.
Blair hugs me hard on the living room sofa; the same sofa Drew and I fucked on two nights ago. I’m keeping that bit from her.
“I want to hear everything,” she orders. “Leave nothing out.”
I tell her everything. From the moment we first met, to our random trip to the junk art exhibit, to our very first argument and the trip to the strawberry festival. Oh…I made sure not to forget the part where he and Bobby were posturing over me. Then, I told her where things took a turn once Drew and I parked the convertible in the hills later that night and had our first kiss. That soon led to us having sex for the first time. Then the second, then the third…
“Sweet Jesus, Quen!” Blair is beyond shocked. “That’s…wow. After the last time we spoke, you gave me the impression that he would only drop you off at the curb and speed off. I was hoping for at least a goodbye kiss. Way for me to aim low. Your ass literally reached for the stars.” When my forlorn expression doesn’t change at her obvious attempt at cheering me up, she pulls me into her side and rubs down my arm. “Tell me…how do you feel?”
“Believe it or not, I felt much worse when he left…more…empty than I felt when Jake eighty-sixed me,” I murmur on the verge of tears.
Blair squeezes me even tighter. “Maybe Drew’s your soulmate.”
I frown. “I don’t believe in that.”
“You wouldn’t feel this ‘empty’, as you say, if he didn’t mean so much more to you than just five hot summer nights.” She sighs. “Damn, girl—I wish you took pictures.”
Just when I was about to open my mouth to wish the same, my memory is instantly triggered. “Wait a second…there’s one.” I leap to my feet.
“Where?” Blair says, wide eyed.
“Grab your dad’s laptop. I have to get something from my purse.”
Less than five minutes later, Blair and I reconvene in the living room. She sits beside me as I type in the web address and passcode from the card I got at the strawberry festival. It takes no time for the high-quality photo to fill the entire screen.
“Holy shit, Quen,” Blair utters in awe. “You two really look like a couple in love.”
I squint at the large image in order to try to see what my friend is seeing, but something else catches my eye.
“We took that right after he bought me this bracelet,” I say, waving my arm towards her. She stills my wrist and studies the turquoise gift.
“He bought this for you?”
“Yeah…and from Bobby Fisher, no less. Bobby’s mother made it. She said something sort of—odd. She told Drew and me that this was inspired by the same bracelet her father gave her mother when he began courting her.”
“Girl—if that’s not serendipity, I don’t know what is,” Blair muses with pursed lips.
“Meeting him at the Stay-Hi café in Weed was ‘serendipity’.” I say the word with air quotes. “Buying me this bracelet simply because he wanted to be macho in front of my middle school crush? Not so much.” I chuckle.
Blair can’t take her eyes off of the image on the screen. She slides the laptop away from me and toward her in order to get a better look.
“I don’t care what you say, you look like a couple in love here. Mark my words, he’s going to reach out to you when he gets home.”
I scoff. “I honestly don’t think he will.”
Quen
I lie in bed wide awake, staring at the open laptop displaying the only photograph of us. It’s been three nights since Drew left, and I can’t stop the tears from falling as I mindlessly twirl the beautiful turquoise bracelet on my arm. Since he’s been gone, I refuse to take it off even to shower, because he got this for me.