by Molly E. Lee
And that scared the hell out of me.
Chapter Two
Fynn
“I got you the chicken salad, extra mustard, no nuts,” I said to Braylen, fishing the sandwich in question out of a brown paper bag. I unwrapped it—double checking the guy had actually left off the walnuts—while Braylen grabbed her chips.
“Pita.” She grinned. “You know me so well.”
“I try,” I said, inspecting the inside contents of her meal.
“I think it’s safe.” There was a touch of impatience in her tone.
I smiled but didn’t glance up. “Excuse me for wanting to triple check that you don’t die from anaphylactic shock.”
Finally pleased with my inspection, I handed it to her where she sat next to me on the bed of my truck and quickly grabbed my turkey club. We’d spent another hour in the journalism room, gathering mementos and trying to figure out what the hell had gotten into Gordon at the ceremony. Neither of us had a clue, but my money was on Zoey rejecting him on a date invite. Braylen said I was way off base, but she’d never been one to see connections between people like I did. I blamed her dad’s multiple marriages for that one, but it wasn’t my place to point out that his messed-up relationship practically made her terrified to look for one of her own. Not that she’d ever admit that, but what other reason could there be for her not dating?
I planned to get the full speech details later if I bumped into Gordon at Lennon’s party. He’d certainly helped the grad ceremony be more interesting, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Zoey. Bray had helped her practice that speech for weeks—cutting into some serious binge-watching time of ours—and all that work had been for nothing.
Gordon had to have his reasons, though. The dude never did anything without thinking it through four times over. The shock factor of his speech had helped stave off the nerves tangling my gut. The ones that chided me for not having a solid plan like so many of my classmates—ex-classmates, now—did. And Lennon’s party, with the prospect of finally connecting with Katy, also did wonders to help distract me from the life-altering decision that hung over my head like an ax on a chopping block.
Sitting outside Bray’s house now, parked in her driveway, my chest tightened. Nights like these had been a staple in my life since I’d learned to drive. I couldn’t help but mourn the moments—she’d been accepted to Northwestern, and I had, too…along with five other schools that I was having a hard time choosing between. She supported whichever choice I made, naturally, but I was still undecided. Of course, I wanted to go where she went, but I wasn’t 100 percent sure Northwestern was the right one for me. It was all the way across the map, so far away from home here in Cali that I’d have to fly or drive an entire day straight with no breaks for a visit.
My parents and I were insanely close—I was one of the very few of my friends with a pair of parents who weren’t divorced—and it’d always been the three of us. Well, the three of us plus my grandparents—family dinners on Sundays, football games, track meets, and barbecues. We’d lost Grandpa and Grandma over the years, and it only made me realize how special it was to have family like them.
Dad always had my back—like all the times I’d accidentally fallen asleep over at Bray’s on cram nights, and came traipsing home near dawn. And Mom never missed a school function whether I wanted her to or not. They weren’t even riding me about not having a decision yet. They’d allowed me to to put a deposit down at Northwestern but were giving me the time I needed to make my final decision—I had a couple of weeks left to get their money back if I went with a state college instead. Their complete support only made it harder to decide. I loved my life the way it was. If I moved thousands of miles away, everything would change.
Still, the thought of not seeing Braylen every day had my stomach churning. Who would I talk to about our love of zombies? Who would appreciate my completely irrelevant skill of making elaborate shaped pancakes? No one understood my humor like her, and if we ended up at different colleges, I knew she’d be impossible to replace. I didn’t think texts or FaceTimes would be enough to fill the hole she’d leave in my life if I chose another school.
But I couldn’t help the small fantasy of Katy and me hitting it off like I always dreamed we would, and us heading to UCLA together. It was closer to home, but Bray would never attend. Northwestern was one of the best journalism schools available and she had been set on attending since she was five. They had a killer photo-journalism program, too, but UCLA’s wasn’t bad either. A sharp crack split in my chest, the choices threatening to break me.
I had to make a decision soon—the deadline for registering for courses at Northwestern was only a week away.
“Careful,” Braylen said after I’d taken a massive bite, trying like hell to yank my head out of the future and worry about the present. She swiped at a glob of avocado that had plopped onto my forearm. “You don’t want to show up at Lennon’s drenched in avocado dressing. Katy wouldn’t stand for a guy with stains on his clothes.” She licked the green spread off her fingers, and I swallowed hard.
“Good looking out.” I forced a laugh and pulled a few extra napkins from the bag. “You think this is all right?” I asked, extending my arms to show off the blue button down I’d chosen for tonight, the sleeves casually rolled up.
Braylen kept her straw in her mouth, taking long pulls of her drink as her eyes trailed me up and down. She grinned, laughing after she set her cup down.
“What?” I snorted. “You’re the one who brought up Katy’s fashion sense. How the hell am I supposed to know what does and doesn’t look good?”
“You’re…” She held my gaze, the intensity of which made me shift in my seat. The moment passed quickly and she rolled her eyes, grabbing the ends of my shirtsleeves. “Neaten this up a bit and you’ll be perfect,” she said, smoothing out the wrinkled mess I’d rolled my sleeves into and crisply shaping them until they were perfect on each side. “She won’t be able to resist.” Braylen ran her fingers through her hair, sighing.
“You really believe that?” I asked, unsure of why I needed the assurance so desperately today. I rarely questioned what I wore or how my hair fell across my eyes, but I’d never had a shot with Katy either. And after she shocked me at the grad ceremony, singling me out to talk, I was more nervous than ever. She’d thrown me off guard, but Braylen had been there, helping me come up with words when they’d gotten lost.
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled around her straw, her eyes avoiding mine.
I let her aversion to the topic go. She had been super clear about her thoughts on Katy and me not being compatible, but she was still here, supporting me. Helping me. That was all that mattered. And, when I really thought about it, I could see Braylen’s side. There wouldn’t be a guy in our school who would ever be good enough for her. Maybe that was all her attitude toward Katy really amounted to.
“Thanks,” I finally said, leaning back as I tried to relax a little. The party and my plan to make my big move had me tenser than not knowing which college I was going to yet. Which, in the scheme of things, should’ve been the more important move to focus on, but what could I say? I guess I wasn’t ready to commit to four years of my future just yet.
The sun was setting, leaving the sky a purple-orange, but I ignored the itch to get my camera. I didn’t have time to leisurely eat and take shots. The party would kick off in less than an hour and I wanted to get there soon. Give me all the time I needed to both make myself available to Katy and play the aloof game that would keep her interested.
The thought spurred a slight panic mixed with excitement inside me, tying my stomach up in knots. I’d done the gentlemanly thing and waited after her breakup before even thinking of approaching her. Now was my time. We only had the summer before Katy was off to UCLA. I pushed the thought away, knowing I’d be lucky to hold Katy’s interest for a night, let alone three months.
“Have you thought about what you’ll tell her?” I asked.
Bray
len barely looked up at me. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
“Okay,” I said. “As long as you make me look good.”
“That isn’t hard to do,” she said as she picked at the sandwich she usually devoured in three bites.
“Something wrong?” I asked, only now noticing her mood had shifted from her standard infectious happiness to a quiet kind of stillness. “Does it taste bad?”
She shook her head. “It’s perfect. Thanks for picking it up.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, breathing out a deep sigh as she leaned into me. Braylen had fit perfectly against me for years, and there was nothing like having her support. “Have I mentioned you’re the best?” I squeezed her before returning to my dinner.
“No,” she said, finally smiling at me. “I don’t believe you have.”
“Well,” I said around a mouthful of turkey, “remind me to.”
She chuckled, and I was relieved to hear the sound. Maybe she was feeling the graduation pressure like I was, knowing now that school was over, everything was about to change.
“Promise me something,” I said, turning toward her to catch her dark eyes.
“What?”
“Have fun tonight.” I wadded up my empty sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the bag. “After you send Katy over to me, don’t stay glued to some darkened corner, people watching.”
A crinkle showed up between her eyebrows—the one that only happened when she was trying not to say something she’d regret. “You don’t know me,” she finally said and I laughed.
“Sure,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean it, Bray. This party is going to be killer. It wouldn’t hurt you to have a good time before you commit yourself to another four years of endless deadlines and scoops.” I shrugged. “I plan to.”
Something flashed behind her eyes, and she arched an eyebrow at me. “You know, I think you’re right.” She dropped her half-eaten sandwich into the bag and pushed off the bed of my truck. “Maybe I’ll take your lead and find someone to sweep off his feet.”
A rock lodged itself in my throat, but I cleared it with a fast swig of soda. “Yeah? You have anyone in mind?”
“Do you?”
I choked, swallowing too hard. “From the selection of the guys at our school?” I shook my head. “None.”
“Well, school is out.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard there will be more than just our class there, anyway. Maybe even some college guys. Always could take my chances with one of them.”
My eyes widened, a flare of jealousy cropping up in my gut. I ignored the feeling, chalking it up to the fact that she hadn’t shown interest in dating much throughout our high school careers, and I hadn’t either—we were both too focused on the massive extra hours running the paper had put on us. Perhaps it was time for both of us to finally explore our options before it was entirely too late.
“If you need any help, you know I’ll be the perfect wingman.” I scooted off the bed of my truck and closed it. “You ready?” I asked.
“No,” she said, glancing down at the clothes she’d worn all day. “I need to change.”
I tugged at the hem of her vintage Deadpool shirt. “Why? This is your favorite.”
“Need something new.”
“Huh,” I said, shrugging. “Don’t forget your suit. Mine’s in the truck.” I didn’t know if we’d actually get in Lennon’s pool, but I wanted to be prepared in case Katy wanted to.
“Thanks for the reminder,” she said “Be back in a few.” She bounded inside her house, her long brown hair swishing behind her.
By the time I’d cleaned up the trash from our dinner, she’d returned in a pair of tight black jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that plunged downward at her chest, showing off…
I clenched my eyes shut. Don’t think about your best friend’s body. Don’t think about the way that top makes her curves…
“You okay?” she asked, tapping my shoulder where I’d frozen solid.
No. You’re always gorgeous but you look downright mouthwatering now. I knew how pretty Bray was, but ever since freshman year she’d been placed firmly in the off-limits column—our friendship meant entirely too much to me—so I’d worn blinders when it came to her curves, her lips, or the way she snort-laughed when we watched Bob’s Burgers. Damn, it was like my confidence boost from Katy talking to me was making me see potential everywhere.
“Yeah,” I finally answered her, shrugging. “Something flew into my eye.”
She pushed on her tiptoes, reaching up to gently swipe underneath my right eye. Her fresh floral scent enveloped me. “Better?”
For a split second, my eyes trailed down to her pink lips, and I wondered what it’d be like to kiss her…again. The night of Zoey’s party freshman year flashed behind my eyes, stealing my breath before I could blink. The kiss had shaken me to my core, storming my brain with thoughts of a relationship with her—and that had terrified me. So I’d blurted out how awkward it was and that we should never do it again.
And I hadn’t tried to—though I had thought about the night on more than one occasion—but I didn’t want our relationship to change. I was scared of it because what we had was so perfect.
She was the ultimate best friend, and—as long as I never thought about that night—she always would be.
I quickly stepped back and nodded as I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
“Let’s roll, then,” she said, walking to the passenger side of my truck and opening the door. “Wouldn’t want to miss a second with Katy, now would we?”
Katy. Lennon’s party. Right.
I gave myself a mental kick in the nuts and started the truck, blaming my momentary brain lapse on the combination of the warmth of her touch and the smell that I couldn’t get out of my nose. Why she’d chosen tonight to wear the intoxicating perfume and outfit was beyond me, but then again, she had said she wanted to meet someone at the party. I wished she realized she didn’t need to dress up to look beautiful—that her selective choice in badass graphic T’s only broadcasted her awesomeness to the world—but she had never been one to take a compliment easily.
As I drove us toward Lennon’s lake house, I tried my best to bury the irrational claim my insides kept making when thinking about her hooking up with some college dude at the party. I assured myself it was natural after all these years. Braylen had always been by my side, through the good times—like when I’d won my first award for a photograph—and the bad, like when I’d lost my grandmother last year. In some ways I’d always viewed her as mine. Something I needed to force to the back of my mind if I wanted to win over a girl like Katy—if she became my girlfriend, she’d naturally deserve priority attention.
I glanced sideways at Braylen, who stared out the window like the winding trees hugging the road were the most fascinating thing in the world. I wondered if she would cancel our standing Walking Dead night dates if Katy and I became a thing.
Returning my eyes to the road, I tried to rationalize that it was the combination of graduation, still being undecided on a college, and finally making my big move with Katy that was making me sentimental.
Happy to have calmed the waves of nerves crashing in my gut, I smiled. Whatever happened, tonight would be one for the books.
“Holy hell,” Braylen said, sitting up straight in her seat. “Lennon went all out.”
My eyebrows raised as I slowed to navigate around the mass of cars parked haphazardly around the front of his “house”—which was three times the size of the his mom’s old house.
“It’s bigger than the picture showed,” I said, unable to see the entirety of the wooden mansion that lay before us. Warm lights lit up the inside, casting a golden glow that illuminated all three stories, each with their own balcony. A giant infinity-edge pool connected to its right, a massive deck and spring-fed lake to its left. “Guess the rumors about his mom taking the company public were true.”
“Totes.” Bray gaped at the giant house.
Thr
ongs of students spilled out of white Range Rovers, tricked-out Jeeps, and the occasional supersport on chrome 22s, while others had already staked their claims by the pool or upper decks.
“Fynn,” Braylen said as I turned off the ignition. “I—”
“There she is,” I blurted out, cutting her off the second I set eyes on Katy. She leaned against the railing of the third-floor balcony, her white skirt dancing in the soft breeze. One of her friends handed her a drink and she laughed, the glowing lights framing her face.
She was a vision, one that begged to be photographed. As it so often did with shot-worthy scenes, a story unfolded around her, the words filtering through my mind. She was a girl many people knew but not many understood. A girl whose beauty was notable, but so were the charitable activities she headed up at school. She secretly listened to Journey and sang in the shower.
Of course, like with every other shot I took, I didn’t know if all the pieces were true—but I felt it as I looked up at her through the windshield of my truck. But unlike other scenes—like when I’d photographed the eagle—I was now in a position to peel back all the layers of mystery surrounding Katy and discover what really made her tick.
Well, that was if Braylen helped me. I drew my gaze away from Katy, glancing at Braylen, who had her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry,” I said. “What were you saying?”
She shook her head, throwing open her door.
“Nothing.” She slammed it shut.
I met her around the front of the truck, grabbing her arm as she stomped toward the house. “Bray, wait. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said again, tugging her arm out of my grasp like my touch burned her. “Don’t want to waste time and let someone else slip in and steal the girl of your dreams.” Spinning on the graveled path, she bounded up the stairs and disappeared into the house.
