“Douche canoe?”
Her lips parted into a full smile and she winked.
“And you had tequila?”
“Yeah,” she laughed, looking back up at the stars. “That shit is disgusting. I may never drink again. All of it is gross.” She shuddered.
“Chicks before dicks, huh?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and laughed. “That’s what I told her.” Her laughter faded. “I wanted to help a friend, even though she lashed out at me. And I didn’t exactly want ‘boyfriend stealer’ hanging over my head for the next two years.”
“You’re not a boyfriend stealer.”
“I know. And now Gwen knows too. Talking to her smoothed things out.” She kept her eyes glued to the inky sky as I continued to watch her. “Otherwise I would’ve been here sooner. I knew you were hurting too, and you’re my best friend. I’m sorry I took so long.”
I was glad she wasn’t looking at me, because she would’ve seen a big goofy smile on my face. Hearing her call me her best friend warmed my blood. Part of me felt like a little kid because I was so happy to hear someone consider me that close. She never talked about friends from Tennessee, and when I brought it up, she just shrugged it off. I liked the idea of being the person she leaned on. It made me feel important. I never felt any pressure around Ana. We fit together so naturally, in a way we hadn’t yet discovered with anyone else.
A cool breeze blew her hair across her face, and she shivered.
“Hang on.” I scooted back into my room through the window. Looking around for something to help keep her warm, I spotted the blanket on my bed and grabbed it before heading back out. I had to sit a little closer to her so we could both fit under the blanket. I flung it out over us and jokingly tucked it up to her chin, like you would a child.
Lying back, I thought about how she called me her best friend. I wanted to hear her say it again. “So, I’m your best friend?” I gushed dramatically. Maybe she’d think I was kidding, but I was completely serious.
“Who else?” She laughed. “I don’t talk to anyone back home, and you’ve made me feel so comfortable. You’re always there to talk to and help me feel good about being me. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of best friend.”
I let her words wash over me, making me warmer than the blanket could’ve ever done. Staring up, I decided to return the favor and release the words into the atmosphere, hoping they warmed her too. “Well, you’ve become my best friend too. I don’t have to be anything other than myself around you.”
Our confessions were simple and innocent, but they felt heavier, deeper, like they were much more. I moved my hand an inch to the left and brushed up against her soft skin, just enough to link my pinky with hers. It was nothing, but my heart pounded when her pinky tightened around mine. The point of connection between us stretched up my arm and into my chest, setting it on fire. I couldn’t help but hope she felt it too and cherished our friendship like I did.
“Thanks for coming for me,” I whispered.
“Anytime, Kevin.”
Chapter Seven
Ana
“Isaac went down on me last night,” Gwen announced during a lull in the conversation.
Thank God I’d worn my sunglasses, especially to cover up the way my eyes must have bugged out. A group of us were sitting on the loungers surrounding Kevin’s pool. School would be starting soon, and we’d spent about half our summer soaking up the sun at Kevin’s. While others also had pools, no one had one like Kev’s. His had a six-inch-deep lounge area in the pool and a diving board. The real clincher was the kitchen/bar area. His mom said it was worth every penny if it meant keeping dirty, dripping boys from running in and out of the house for drinks and snacks.
Next to the pool area was a large backyard with plenty of room to play soccer if the mood struck. I had to admit, it made the summer pretty awesome.
For the past thirty minutes, we’d been swapping stories about guys and the part they’d played in our summer break. Well, I didn’t have anything to say. I’d worked at the local library part-time, and when I wasn’t doing that, I was hanging out with Kevin or our larger group of friends.
You’d think that after all this time, I’d have been used to the overshare, but it still managed to catch me off-guard. And they didn’t spare any detail about their lives: Who they were dating, how heavy or light their periods were, what sexual conquests they’d had. Nothing was sacred.
I, however, still felt too new to spew my secrets to a group that had been friends for over ten years. I usually sat back and soaked it all in. Their bold confessions were something I took as signs of their trust.