"Best Friends"

Chapter Fourteen

Flat on my fluffy white comforter, Hades purring softly while curled on my chest, legs straight and resting against the top of my headboard, I hold my phone above my smiling face.

After returning to the Valentine’s Day party, Erik pulled Clark back in to do a few last songs of the night and the girls dragged me into the kitchen for girl-talk and drinking. (I only had a cherry 7-Up, but that did not stop them from shots and mixed drinks.) They only let me be when final song was announced. Knowing that the last song of the night was going to be “You Are My Sunshine”, as it has been for the past six years, I snuck into the dining room and relaxed in one of the plush chairs.

Sometime later my name was screeched across the hall. Going to the source, I see the couches moved back in (though against the wall) and two Shishabucks Cloud Mini’s set up – making a total of four hoses. Clark has a spot for me, a hose for us. Sitting with Erik and his girlfriend, Marie and Jordan, plus some other familiar faces gaggled around, we talk about what everyone did for Valentine’s Day, we talk about the party, we talk about the music. It is a nice blend of Clark’s friend group, mine, and some other really friendly people. It feels so right, so natural, I don’t once feel an ounce of stress or like I didn’t belong.

Finally, the crowd started dwindling, the night comes to a close, and those who were going to leave did. Those who need to crash found their usual spots, and Clark, Jonah, and I made it upstairs. Absolutely ready to pass out, I drop the dress, throw on a shirt, take my meds, undid my hair, and finally flop on the pull-out. There was a “Goodnight, Candi” from Jonah and I hold up my hands in a heart.

Saturday morning comes and goes, the afternoon rolling around after a wonderful length of sleep. Jonah, Clark, and I all stumble into the kitchen for food around the same time, happy to see the house had cleared out. We eat a small lunch together and discuss the party, discuss the blow up on social media (especially over Clark singing lead), and then I get my stuff together and headed home.

Make-up free, freshly showered, in my sweats, I finally have time to devote to the pictures from last night. Clark had allowed quite a few pictures of us and him on stage to be tagged on his f*******:. And though he didn’t change his profile picture from the New Year’s Eve shot, there was a post of an artful picture of smoke taken from the hookah gathering:

C.J. Wilson updated his cover photo.

“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you~” [music note]

4 hrs ago (Public)

So, of course, I update my own f*******:. I do keep my Cover Photo of the Christmas morning sunrise, but I change my Profile Picture. Using the stairs photo from last night, I opened Aviary and not only blur everything but me and him but splash-colored to make us pop.

Candi Robinson updated her profile picture.

“I’m losing to you, baby, I’m no match.”

With C.J. Wilson

Just Now (Public)

If that wasn’t going to ‘cause another stir, I don’t know what would. Maybe things aren’t crystal clear that yes we’re dating, yes we’re in a relationship, yes we’re going steady. But in this moment, it doesn’t really matter. I am so happy with life… with school, with my friends, with my dad, with all the valuable time I’m getting with Clark. If it’s not broke, don’t fix – I’ll take it as is. And I cannot wait to see what comes my way.

*

Not being hungover is a lifestyle I can get used to. Able to sleep well, wake up feeling refreshed, take a shower, eat, hang about doing whatever… it really is a better way to live. Curtains drawn to let the afternoon light in, I sit with a bundle of pillows and a blanket in my bay window seat. A cup of hot chocolate and my laptop, I’m totally set to plug in the R2D2 to my computer and read.

Processing, then a little file comes up labeled ‘A Gift For Sir Clark’. I click while sipping. Loading and then the document fills in. Ten pages with the title With Or Without You. Feeling that familiar stir in my chest, my stomach flip-flops, my heart picks up, and I am way too eager. She had taken initiative and changed her Profile Picture on f*******: to one from last night with a lyric from “Nicotine”, and she’d been bold enough to make this gift for me with no expectations, plus she’d totally held her own with me while smoking hookah and that gave me an odd sense of pride, like I was showing her off. So, now, I cannot wait to see what her mind and heart came up with.

It starts with “A watercolor sky above my eyes….” I maybe get two sips in of my drink before I’m so engrossed it goes cold. Time passes beyond me as I eat up the words on my screen. A short story yet holds the world and creativity and depth of a novel. Feeling a sense of love and empowerment with an aftertaste of a bittersweet loss and point-of-no-return, the story completes with “... and when no one saw me go, I knew I’d never return.”

“Holy fuck.”

Blinking a few times, then I slide my laptop beyond my feet and reach for my phone. First on my favorite, I click Candice’s picture. One ring, then a “Hey!”

“Oh my god,” I start without greeting her. “Candice – that story! Please, please tell me you will never stop writing.”

“Wait, what?”

“The short story? With Or Without You? I just finished and I love it. Seriously. Everything about it just was so fluid and the conversations felt natural even with him being a Fae, and the thing with the kiss? Hot damn! I did not see that coming at all. It’s only ten pages but it sure doesn’t feel like it - it the best way I mean,” I laugh a little and push back my hair. “It feels like a whole novel wrapped up and yet it feels like you could expand so much with it. It’s perfect. You have a gift, Candice.”

“R-really?

“Oh yes.”

There was a long exhale. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

“I love it. Thank you so much. That is seriously the best present I’ve ever been given. Though, I will say, I honestly think you should publish it.”

“Oh! I… I d-don’t know. It’s just a little short story.”

I smirk to myself. “Oh, com’on Candice.”

There’s a light laugh, “My teacher last semester did a whole presentation of self-publishing through sss when she did a week about how the publishing world is changing. Maybe I’ll look into it.”

“No maybe… I dare you.”

We laugh together and I ease back against my pillows. “Seriously though, if you like this – if you’re passionate about it at all, I want to support you as much as I can, as much as you’ve supported me.”

“I did really love that class and I won’t lie, I really love that short story and felt so accomplished and proud. I haven’t really felt like that before. And… well, I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but I used what I sent you as inspiration for a novel. I don’t know if I can do it, that’s a big challenge, way different than ten pages. But it’s just….”

“You don’t have to explain it to me – I get it. With song writing and playing in the band and now with singing more… I get it. And I want you to feel all those good things, especially when it’s so purely yours.”

“I get it now,” she confirms, she agrees. “Like, I don’t want this to be a career, I still plan on being a High School teacher. But doing this on the side really would make me feel… balanced.”

“You are so wonderful, you know that?”

She laughs a little and I can hear her smile. “Mmm. I could say the same about you.”