"Best Friends"

Chapter Ten

Pumps off, medicine soon to kick-in, back against the locked front door, it is f*****g time for sleep. Taking the moment to let a long blink turn into an eyes closed, I sigh. Jonah nudges me. “Com’on sleepy head, let’s get you upstairs.”

“Mmm,” and I let him drag me forward.

Too tired to think, I have to seriously focus on climbing the grand staircase and making it down the hall to the guest bedroom. “‘Ey,” I turn my back to Jonah before he disappears into his room.

“I gotchu,” and he zips down the back of the dress.

Finally able to breathe again, I roll my shoulders and wiggle my torso. In my temporary room, door closed and locked, it does not take me long to get ready enough to sleep. Phone long since dead, for the split second my brain allows, I think about the never-ending notifications I would be getting. Realizing this, I leave my phone dead on the nightstand. For that is an issue future Candice will need to handle.

My brain functions enough to remind me of the midnight kiss from Clark. The reason Jonah and I had kept the tradition of kissing each other each strike of midnight is because we agreed we ‘didn’t want the year to be tainted by that person’ incase the relationship imploded. But as a complete surprise, I didn’t have time to overthink or prepare or worry – there was that moment he turned me and then it happened. And if my year started out that perfectly? There’s no way it could be bad – no possible way. I can’t help but smile as I flop into the queen bed.

Up against a clump of pillows, I pick at my nails as I replay the best parts of the night. Minutes go by and still wide awake I fight with myself to plug in my phone. Losing the battle, I flip over. I can boot it after a few moments and then I just let it sit while hundreds of notifications pass through. A constantly lit screen, I am so thankful it’s still on silent. Finally, after what seems like ten f*****g minutes, everything’s up to date.

Swiping everything away, I start with texts. On the way at the bottom, I only open texts from people I actually know well, (the others would get a minimal, thank-you-for-coming response tomorrow). Knowing the girls had always blown up my phone with the group text, I focus on that. Skimming their gushing and squealing, getting down to where it was looking drunken, the only thing that really catches my eye is a link. Something f*******:, I click.

It’s Clark’s page. The cover photo of his band’s logo loads, then there’s the profile picture. Not just any profile picture, not the same selfie he’s had since the start of the school year. Oh no, it’s The Photo. The coming down the staircase, my arm around his, us looking into each other’s eyes photo.

Heart pounding so hard I can’t feel anything else; I scroll down to see when he posted it and if there’s a caption.

C.J. Wilson updated his profile picture.

“What have you done to my mind~” [music note]

7 hrs ago (Public)

And hundreds of comments. He didn’t respond to anyone; he didn’t update or post anything else. Sitting forward, phone on my lap, free hand over my mouth, I just don’t know how to compute this. Clicking through his profile pictures, the last photo where he wasn’t alone in the shot was with his mom before she got too sick.

“Oh my god,” I whisper softly.

Looking through his tag photos I even notice that he took the time to un-tag himself of the countless versions of that. There’s some random party shots from tonight and then…

“Oh. My. God.” I whisper more harshly.

The last picture he is tagged in – that he’s let himself be tagged in – is a picture of us just after midnight, the ball dropping behind us, us in the middle of a kiss. The person who posted it – a person I only know the name vaguely – had taken the time to splash color, everything black and white but Clark and me. The photo is the same as the others… I know it’s real, but it seems so fanciful.

Heart shaking my chest, shallow breaths fluttering my breast, fingers rubbing my eyes, I just can’t think. I lift from the bed. Don’t think, don’t worry, just do, right? Like when I kissed him in my bedroom, like when I took his arm this evening, like when I kissed him back just some three hours ago. Just do.

But at the door, my hand holds the knob. Just as I switch the door to be unlocked, anxiety hits me like a train, and I also feel the fuzziness of my medicine blooming in my chest. Having tried to fight it before, I know I’ll start dozing. And this, this viciously important conversation I need to have with Clark, is not the time to fall asleep.

I stare at my hand on the knob, not ready to give up just yet.

*

Knuckles hovering by her door, I stand rather immobilized. I hadn’t knocked, my hand falling like a feather in front of the wood.

Just as I was dozing, on the very verge of sleep, my phone notified me of yet another notification. Something in my gut told me not to ignore it, so when I peaked at the dim screen to see that Candice had ‘loved’ my new profile picture my stomach tumbled. Getting up quickly to go talk to her, to finally figure this out, to come into this new year with her, I rushed to her door.

But now that I’m here, I’m stuck. It isn’t just that I don’t want to wake her, but something feels… off. Maybe the hallway too cold, maybe the house too quiet, maybe my own guilt and frustration of doing stuff without talking to her first… maybe too afraid of her denying me, I am at a loss.

So many years have we spent together? How many times have we sought each other’s comfort? Maybe not obviously but we did care about the other’s opinion. She kissed me, she kissed me back, she loved the photo. I see that necklace on her every time I see her. But what if it isn’t enough? She’s young… only had one boyfriend, went on a date or two since then. Plus, with me going to University in just eight months – what if she didn’t want to make such a big commitment? I would be her second boyfriend ever. (I wanted to be her last boyfriend, too if I am completely honest with himself.) But that’s a lot to ask of her. Anyway, I looked at it this is becoming a bigger and bigger deal.

Taking a step back I feel an ache in my chest. I conclude that I should just take whatever I can get and if she brings it up, I’ll cross that bridge. But tonight… as we round into four in the morning… tonight is not the night.

Feeling a numbness spread through me when I ease back into my bed, curling around a pillow. A second after I smoosh my face against the t-shirt fabric, I reach over for my phone – to cancel any alarms and turn on do-not-disturb. Seeing a f*******: notification with Candice’s name, though, I can’t help but click with a sigh. Brought to her page I look at the post I’ve been tagged in.

Candi Robinson updated her profile picture.

“I never know what to do, with or without you.”

With C.J. Wilson.

15 mins ago (Public)

Feeling a renewed sense of hope, I know there’s a chance yet.