Then he kisses me.
And I don’t know why, but I start crying. Not like sobbing or anything. It’s just that tears keep rolling down my face. And I can’t stop them.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling his lips away from me and trying to wipe my tears away.
“Do you hate me, Chase?”
“I was mad at you, yes, but I could never hate you.”
“Don’t get mad at me now for saying this, but in spite of it all, I still love you. I never stopped, and that’s why it hurts so much. You’ve been my best friend my whole life, and I feel like a huge part of me is missing. And I know we probably shouldn’t have slept together, but—”
“Don’t regret it, Dani,” he says. “And just for the record, I feel the same way.”
“Promise you do?”
“I promise.”
I start sobbing with relief.
He kisses me and holds me tight, and at some point, right before I fall asleep, he murmurs in my ear, “Best birthday ever.”
Saturday, September 7th
After we ended.
Devaney
Even though I usually sleep like a rock when I’m near Chase, I don’t sleep well. I keep waking up every hour to check the clock, my brain counting down to the confetti toss.
Finally, at six thirty, I hear movement downstairs, so I go to the kitchen, where I find Phillip making coffee.
“Hey, Dani,” he says, pouring me a cup and placing it in front of me. “You here for the birthday throwdown?”
“Yeah. Sorry we missed midnight.”
“So, you and Chase are friends again, huh?”
I smile. Nod. “I hope so.”
“A morning throwdown will be just fine then. Chase isn’t the only one who has missed you.”
I suck in a breath. “What do you mean? I’m still always around.”
“Yeah, but it’s been different, having that tension, I guess. And just so you know, you’re not the only one who has had to navigate staying best friends while dating other people. It’s tricky at best. And can be downright heartbreaking at its worst.”
“Was it hard for you when Jadyn dated other people?”
“Well, I certainly wasn’t a big fan of any of her boyfriends. Obviously, I was jealous, but at the time, I don’t think I realized it. We never explored our feelings at a younger age, like you and Chase, so I can’t at all judge you for how you reacted. Or for the aftermath.”
“It’s been difficult for me. Like, I’m here, but I don’t quite fit the space anymore. And knowing I caused it all, let’s just say, I have plenty of guilt.”
“Chase loves you, Dani, and I’m not referring to the romantic kind right now.”
“I know. I love him, too.” I notice a large black leather binder on the island. “What’s that?”
“Chase’s modeling portfolio. The agency added some photos from more recent shoots.”
“Will he be able to keep modeling if he plays football in college? Aren’t there eligibility rules about earning money?” I ask, but I’m just making conversation while I’m drooling over Chase’s photos.
“There are. But Chase signed with the agency a few years ago, and as long as they don’t mention his involvement in college sports in any ad, it’s okay. And since it’s a freelance situation, meaning he can work when it fits into his schedule, it’s one of the few jobs that he can do right now.”
I flip from one picture to the next. The photos seem to go in chronological order. The first shots are from his past work for classic, preppy American brands. Newer ones showcase athletic gear. He looks handsome, of course. Sure, his hair is perfectly, artfully pushed back and probably has a lot of product in it, but his grin is what makes him so attractive. He looks genuinely happy, like the hot boy next door who doesn’t have a care in the world.
But as I keep flipping through the pages, I start to see a different Chase.
One who looks a little more guarded. A little more worldly.
His jaw has gotten more chiseled as he’s aged, but there’s a tightness that wasn’t there before.
While part of me knows it makes him look even more handsome and grown-up—especially the photo where his hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a slim-fit European suit—I can’t help but wonder about the change.
His dad is still talking, going on about Chase’s passing coach.
“He’s already a good passer,” I mumble out, trying to keep up, when the realization hits me. I check the date on the photo.
After we ended.
The reason Chase looks guarded and worldly is because I made him that way. When I broke his heart.
“He wants to keep getting better,” Phillip says.
I flip to a photo of Chase, shirtless, on a beach somewhere, low-slung board shorts on his tall frame.
And then him in nothing but a pair of jeans.
“He’s shirtless in a lot of these,” I say.
“He used to not be comfortable with being shirtless, but when I offered to take his place, they turned me down,” his dad says with a laugh. “Something about being too old.”
I laugh along with him.
I do think Chase and I are going to be friends again.
And I’m okay with that.
Especially if we’re going to be the kind of friends who kiss.
“He’s grown up a lot. Hard to believe he’s eighteen today. My son is officially a man.”
I’ll say he is, I think, remembering how Chase held me last night, how amazing he made me feel. How I felt the same intense emotion as I did that summer, but how it was even better physically. I fully agree with Chase’s dad. The boy I know and love has definitely become a man.
“So, how’s college life?” Phillip says, changing the subject even though I’d just as soon scroll through this book a few thousand more times. “You’re away from home. No parents telling you what to do.”
I shrug. “It’s different. A lot of people around all the time, but it can be lonely in a way.”
“Do you like your sorority?”
“I actually really do.”
Jadyn strolls into the room, wrapped tightly in a robe. “And what about all the owl stuff I sent you?”
“You and Mom both totally spoiled me. It’s practically a new theme in my room.”
Jadyn walks past me and grabs a folder off the counter. “This is what we’re showering Chase with today. One hundred and eighty photos. And I hope it’s not awkward, but it was hard to find a photo of him through the years that you weren’t in,” she says, dropping the folder in front of me.
“I’m not in this one,” I tease, flashing her a photo of her and my mom, both pregnant, holding a sign that says, Future BFFs.
Phillip chuckles as he pours Jadyn a cup of coffee and hands it to her. She sits at the bar next to me.
“It came true,” Jadyn says. “Even though you stopped being as close as you once were, you’ve never missed a birthday toss. Ever.”
“I couldn’t miss that.”
“What did you bring this year?”
I run and grab my bag from the dining room, take it to the kitchen, and show them.