“She’s also… a friend.” The hesitation in my voice earns me a quiet, knowingmhmm.
“I see. And for Christmas?” she presses. “Vais voltar para casa?”Are you coming home?
I rub the back of my neck, eyes on the wet sidewalk. “I don’t know yet. It’s a nightmare to get time off in December.”
“Natal é família.”Christmas is family.Her voice softens. “Even if you are busy, you make time.”
Homesickness creeps in, uninvited, the memory of noise and overlapping voices, the smell of roasted chestnuts, my mom’s cooking as she hums along to old records while she cooks. My dad, my siblings, and my nieces and nephews. A pit forms low in my stomach. Normally, that ache is enough to make me drive there. But this year feels… different. I feel different. And I know if I go home, my family will sniff that change out in under five minutes and start asking questions I’m not ready to answer.
“I’ll figure it out,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure what that means yet.
She sighs but lets it go. “Está bem.Just… don’t spend it alone.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t forget about our anniversary dinner the weekend after.”
I swallow a sigh, knowing I can’t stay away forever. “I haven’t forgotten.”
She says her usual love yous, and when she hangs up, my music continues playing, but I’ve lost the rhythm of the pace in my run now, and I slow to a walk, pull out my phone, and fire off a text to Hudson:
Jay
Hey man, what’s your schedule Thanksgiving week? You playing or can we do a friends thing?
The NFL season’s still in full swing, and his team is doing well. He could be travelling, which would kill the idea before it starts, but I’m almost positive he’s not… maybe we can pull everyone together.
I slip my phone away and start toward home, already running through a mental list of who’d come—Hudson and Daphne, obviously, maybe Quinn and Miles if they aren’t going to Virginia. Probably not Seb and Indie. Would Liv come? I tell myself that’s just part of the list, not the reason I’m picturing her sitting next to me. But I can’t deny that I want to spend more time with her.
My phone buzzes.
Hudson
I’m home this year, we have a game day after, what are you thinking? I can ask Daphne, she’s home from a meeting with her professor in like thirty.
I fire off some ideas I have floating around for a Friendsgiving and wait for him to talk to Daph about it.
Halfway down the block, I remember Liv saying she had a Pilates class tonight in the local sports center. Without really thinking about it, I veer off my usual route, cut across two streets, and push through the door at Mug Life. The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls hits instantly. I order her a decaf version of her favorite peach tea and step back outside into the cool air.
The cup is cool between my hands, ice melting by the second, as I lean against the wall, eyes flicking to the glass-fronted studio across the street, waiting for her to come out.
When Liv finally steps outside, she’s in an oversized sweatshirt, hair tied in two braids resting on her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the class. She spots me almost immediately, brows lifting in surprise as she crosses the street.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, tucking her mat under one arm.
I hold out the drink. “Figured you might want this.”
She takes it, looking at the label. “Decaf peach iced tea?”
I nod. “You said you were cutting caffeine.”
Her mouth twitches, and she shakes her head. “You remembered. That’s...”
She trails off, eyes flicking away for half a second before she pulls them back to me. There’s something in her face, a tiny crease between her brows, and the pause feels less like surprise and more like she’s not sure what to do with the information.
I shrug, looking down the street as if the traffic suddenly needs my attention, which is ridiculous because I want to be here for her, so I reconnect my eyes with hers. “I was running by anyway, and this is only your second class, right? Thought you might need a refresher on the best route home since I know Daphne couldn’t make it tonight.”
She studies me for a beat longer than necessary, and then that guarded flicker is gone, replaced by a half-smile. “Should I be scared that you know my schedule and you’re stalking me now? Am I living with a stalker? This isn’t the first time you’ve known where I am.”
