"Best Friends"

Chapter Nine

Wrapping the matching belt at my natural waist around my long-sleeve, scoop neck, gold sequins swing dress, I peek at the nude heels Jonah and I agreed on. “It still feels weird to be wearing shoes in your house.”

“Mm. We always do on New Year’s though!”

“I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” I pick up the three inch with one inch platform nude nubuck pump. “Remember Homecoming? Half-way through and I was in socks.”

“Hey! Those were cute with the frills; it totally went with your dapper-y dress. Plus,” he looks up from his phone, “you already agreed to them.”

I slip them on, holding on to the side of his desk for support. “I know, I know. But these were the only closed toed options and you know my rules.”

Jonah makes an exasperated face as he repeats, “No dying your hair, no stripes, no open-toe, and no pink – no matter how much we watch Molly Ringwald or Nicole Kidman.”

“Exactly. No matter how many times you try and convince me otherwise.”

He stands and drops his hands on my shoulders, “Oh my sweet little Candi, what am I going to do with you?”

Giggling with his chuckle he moves to finally tuck in his button-down. “Alrighty then! Let’s get some pictures and head downstairs.”

May of sounded like a quick one-two but pictures included mirror pics, selfies, him taking pictures of me, me taking pictures of him, and then finally, after the music starts and some hooting and hollering is going on below, it is time to be late to our own party.

Jonah rushes down leaving me alone with my in total four-inch heels and the grand staircase. Staring at every step I think if I should already ditch the shoes entirely. I can feel him before he talks, then the oh-so-familiar voice is behind me, “Need help?”

I look over to see an offered arm. “Thought you were downstairs already.”

“Was. Then I finished getting ready.”

Turning to look at him fully I can’t help but think ‘damn, if that’s finished getting ready, he’s been holding out’. Distantly reminding me of my Freshman Homecoming, his tucked-in button down is the blue of his eyes, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black slacks with a black belt and his iconic black boots. Hair more styled than every day, tight on the sides, the longer top combed to his right. Rock-star, actor, model, Viking - all synonyms when it comes to Clark.

Taking his arm, I have to focus on pulling myself together and not falling. I have all night to gawk at him and maybe, if I’m lucky, be near him at midnight…. Anything can happen with a brand-new year, right?

One step, two, and I am already taking use of his arm and overall strength. Almost done – one step left he leans a little to murmur in my ear, “You look absolutely stunning tonight, Candice.”

In that same moment I use the free hand from the railing to push back some curls. Smiling, my eyes peek up at him (with my heels he is so much closer), “I could say the same about you, Clark.”

Safely delivered to the main floor I look out to the crowd that has already formed spilling out from both the kitchen and the living room and game room. Every eye that I can see is on us. A lot of phones are as well. Knowing better than to look like a deer-in-headlights, I look to Clark and say, “Thank you,” then release myself from his arm and smile, heading for Jonah by the front door.

Maybe he saw, maybe he didn’t, would he even care if he had? Jonah’s eyes are focused outward though, the light from the house spilling across the porch to lawn, making the blanket of snow twinkle. A stream of people is steady from the length of the one-way street into the house. I never knew exactly how many people showed but it always felt like a school-assembly’s worth. Being a good host with Jonah, it was another twenty minutes before we leave the doorway.

Jonah’s almost instantly pulled to the side from his sort-of boyfriend towards the game room, he hollers back at me to come dance. I mime tilting a cup then head into the kitchen. Trying to take a moment to myself, I mix a Shirley Temple and head into the dining room. Leaning against the grand wood table that hasn’t been touched since Katie’s passing, I close my eyes for just a breath.

“Candi!” I hear a few different girls scream at once.

My eyes shoot up and I almost spill my drink down my dress. Looking down to make sure I haven’t, holding my solo cup a ways out. I look up, “Jesus Christ, what?”

Allie, Marie, Syndy, and Sandra, Jules, Sara all look at me with various phone screens pointed my direction.

“Do you not have your phone on you, oh my God!” exclaims Marie.

I very exaggeratedly pull my phone of my skirt pocket. “What’s the emergency?”

Marie doesn’t even let me check the stupid amount of f*******: notifications (which I’d put on silence because everyone is going to be tagging this location and me, Jonah, Clark and whoever the f**k else all night) and shoves her phone in front of me. “There are, like, hundreds of pictures of you and Clark coming down the stairs together.”

Not able to keep my composure I sort of flitch, “Really? Ugh. Do I look awful or something?”

Allie fans her hand out over her chest, “Oh honey, no! You look b-e-a-utiful! What’s going viral is the fact that y’all are looking damn cozy and official coming down those steps.”

Jules sticks a manicured finger of the screen, “Look at how he’s lookin’ at you! Shoot. I’d die.”

Finally, actually looking at the picture, I can’t help but be instantly fixated. It was right when he leaned in to compliment me, our faces turned more towards each other than out, eyes locked and both smiling, me with my hand pushing my hair back. Getting quite flush, I go to grab my locket. With how tight this bodice is though; I don’t want to break the chain or rip seam. Instead, I continue to move some wisps out of my eyes.

Reading my mind, Marie says “You should totally make that your profile picture. I don’t think anyone here would blame you, at all.”

Remembering how much I hate random girls using a picture they snapped with him as their profile though, I shake my head. “Tag me in the best ones, maybe I can get a cute edit for Insta.”

“s**t! I didn’t even think about Insta. You’re probably blowing up on there too,” comments Sara.

I slip my phone back in my pocket knowing I would spend way too long going through countless photos, trying to find the best one. And spend maybe just as long editing it. Maybe for Insta if I post more photos of Jonah and I or with the girls, not making it the showpiece (but the last picture of the night - and then not update for like three days). I’ve had Jonah in my profile picture off-and-on on various sights for years though… maybe if I just ask Clark, he’d be okay with it?

Glancing at Marie’s phone one more time I think how picturesque we are – how natural and candid the shot is, and yet professional looking given the lighting and fashion and decor. Like a cover for one of my countless romantic comedy DVD’s or my teen romance novels, it’s cute but real, an ideal that feels possible.

*

Looking at my phone background again, I cannot help but smile against my solo cup. It had taken me a damn hour to find the perfect shot and crop it and do my half-assed editing that I do and proceed to make it my profile picture on f*******:. Then it was posted to my i********: (which I only use for parties and shows and school events) which later would become that icon picture too. People are weird about the popular kids – a sort of peer celebrity, so it doesn’t faze me at all; I get tagged in so many f*****g photos I just have it set up for instant-approval. This one though… this one is the best photo I’ve ever been tagged in.

Staring at the pure happiness that is captured in Candice’s expression, I sip at my Coke. Usually, it would be a rum and Coke but I am dedicated to my no-booze policy and so far, so good. Though, without the alcohol, this night is taking forever. Yes, everyone seems pleased with the music and food and drinks, various people are taking use of the pool tables, and the screen in the game room has the live feed from New York City. But man, without me making out with random girl after random girl in this place, that place, and another, I am so viscously aware at how much Candice, and I tend to pass like ships in the night; barely able to get one sentence with her before we are pulled apart.

With the ten-minute warning screamed through the house, I curse and set my drink down. Looking around, I should have been looking for her fifteen minutes ago and locking down her presence. Like a blessing though, Jonah and Candice walk arm-in-arm into the game room, reaching the back of the row of love sofas. Excited faces, TV behind them, they are dead center being perfect hosts.

Slipping my way to Candice, I take advantage of the moment her arm untangles from my little brother’s. Running my hands down from her shoulders to her hands, I turn her more towards me. “Hey you.”

Her smile is bright, her eyes full of life. “Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you all night.”

“Well, I’m here now,” when it’s the most important.

“Crazy how fast this night has gone, huh?”

I smile, “I know, almost midnight.”

“Then it’s a brand-new year!” she squeezes my hands softly.

Loving her optimism, I lean a little closer to her ear so I can speak more softly, “You wanna know something?”

“Of course.”

“I think this new year is going to be pretty fantastic, Candice.”

Eased back so I can see her smile, she laughs and nods. “I think so too, Clark.”

Before we know it, two minutes is called. Her hands slip out of mine before I even can grip her to stay. Jonah looks down at her and asks “Ready?”

One minute, the countdown begins on the screen. They still stand with their backs to it, facing the crowd. At thirty seconds, Jonah starts clapping slowly with each number. Ten seconds - both their hands go up. Screaming with everyone, fingers going down in perfect pace. I eye Jonah’s boyfriend of the party and he knows that we’re about to break tradition as much as I do. His hands at the ready to turn my brother, my hands ready to snatch Candice.

Three.

Two.

One.

They don’t even have a chance to turn to each other.

One hand on her waist, the other scooped under her chin, she has a moment of shock, a moment to start smiling, and then I kiss her. Lips soft as flowers, tongue sweet like cherries, her little hands coming to grip my shirt. Hyper-sensitive to her, my body feeling fuzzy yet full of electricity, I need this moment to last forever. With the second round of celebration though, we both pull apart slowly. Resting foreheads for but a moment, I murmur a “Happy New Year” against her lips.