He’s shutting me out. I can tell, and I’ve known him long enough to know this is just how Declan reacts to tough moments like this.
Closing the door on the last four years is hard for me too.
Entering the room, I sit on my bed and watch him sketch for a moment. I just want to soak up the last moments of this time together before it’s over.
“Every summer, Declan,” I mumble softly.
“I know,” he replies despondently.
“And maybe more if we have time. You know you’re only a few hours away from me.”
“Aye.”
The longer he refuses to look at me or give me the attention I crave, the more tense I feel inside. I want to scream at him. I’d like to take that sketchbook and toss it across the room.
Instead, I act on impulse.
Lunging from my bed to his, I shove the book out of his hand and drape myself on his bed at his side. With his arm under my head, I wrap mine around his middle and hug him close.
“What the bloody hell are you doin’?” he asks, stunned by my erratic behavior. His body is stiff against mine.
“Stop ignoring me,” I mutter into his chest.
“You are such a slut for attention,” he growls, but after a moment he relaxes his body, wrapping me up into his arms and acting as if this is a normal thing for best friends to do.
We lie there for a moment as he holds me, and it doesn’t feel sexually charged or strange at all. Maybe this isn’t what other friends do, but I think Declan and I are just closer than any other friends are. Our relationship is special.
“Every summer,” he says softly. The vibration of his voice hums against my ear.
“Every summer,” I repeat.
“You’ll be busy becoming a star in the West End, and I’ll be… Well, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll be doing, but I’ll keep myself occupied until we see each other again.”
“You’ll be making exceptional art and getting featured in galleries and museums,” I say, staring at the wall as he looks up at the ceiling.
“You’re just saying that,” he replies.
“No, I’m not.”
“Next time we see each other, you can tell me about all the stellar blow jobs you’ve been giving,” he adds with a tight laugh. Something in me hardens at the sound.
I don’t want to experience that with anyone else, but I can’t tell him that. We are just friends after all.
Instead, I pick my head up to look at him. He turns his gazetoward me until we’re staring at each other, only a few inches apart. Immediately, the mood between us changes.
I keep thinking about that kiss, wondering if I could kiss him again. Would it change anything? Would it ever make me more than his friend?
Time stills as we gaze into each other’s eyes. Is he thinking the same thing I am? Does the memory of my lips haunt his dreams the way his do mine?
But if I kiss him now, then what? It can’t go any further. Not here and not now. We will say our goodbyes and wait another two months before we see each other again, and only for a week.
If I learned anything from that night in the gymnasium, it’s that Declan will always look at me like a friend. And I’d only be setting myself up for heartbreak to want anything more.
So, when I feel him lean in, I pull away.
“I’ll see you in two months,” I whisper. He looks stunned for a moment.
Then he quickly composes himself.
