Unashamed, I keep grinning.
“At least that one is better than half the other songs you claimed were mine.”
I chuckle. Anytime Paige gave me sass in high school, I would tell her that I had found her song, and almost always, it was some song with terrible lyrics or a really sad backstory just to mess with her. The truth was, I could never find a song good enough for her. Nothing ever gave me that all-encompassing feeling that is Paige. At least, not until later.
“None of those were ever your song, Paige. Trust me, your song has much more… meaning.”
She stares at me, all traces of humor gone. “You’re serious. You have a real song for me?”
I nod.
She looks shocked. “What is it?”
I click my tongue. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Jordan Miller!” she says, her expression one of stubborn determination.
Unfortunately for Paige, that look has the opposite effect on me. Now I can’t tell her. Keeping it from her will be too much fun… not to mention the fact that telling Paige her song would be like exposing my whole soul to her.
“I toldyouyour song years ago,” Paige says.
“Oh, I remember. When ‘Winter of You’ came on the radio, you freaked out and shouted, ‘This isyoursong!’ I nearly drove us off the road.”
She smiles at the memory. “But seriously, now you have to tell me.”
“Ah, Devons, timing is key.” What a lame excuse for the real truth—that I can’t tell her how I feel. “But you definitely do have a song.”
“How long have you known my song?” she asks.
I blow out a breath. “About five years.”
“Fiveyears?” Paige’s eyes widen with surprise. She counts back five years on her fingers and then looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Senior year?”
“Right after senior year.” Despite this not being a confession, vulnerability creeps through me just the same.
Paige rests her chin on her hand, waiting for me to expound. I hesitate to tell her more, wondering if this might be too much, but this is Paige, and whether she continues dating Ian or moves to California, our relationship is about to shift anyway.
And I know I will regret not telling her what she’s meant to me.
“I had just dropped my mom off to her fourth round of chemo and was driving to one of my classes on campus. I was having one of those days where everything ended in a downward spiral, and I just needed a reason to be happy. So I thought of you. I remembered our Spotify list and turned it on Shuffle, and this song came on. I’d heard it before, but this time, I was truly listening. It was like everything you are to me was in that song. And every time I would have a bad day, I’d listen to it and think of you.”
When I meet Paige’s gaze, tears shine in her eyes. She covers her face with her hands and rests her head on our tattered book. “You’re not supposed to make me cry,” she mumbles.
Seeing Paige’s tears makes me want to wrap my arms around her and pull her into me. My resolve to keep Paige at a distance is unraveling in real time. For just this moment, I want to break my own rules. I want to be a carefree seventeen-year-old who flirts outrageously with his best friend between the pages of a composition book. I want to tell her more, so much more, but I’ve already said too much.
Suddenly, her head flips back up, her bun nearly smacking me in the face. “I am furious with you.” Tears still gleam in her eyes.
“Me? Why?”
“Do you know how many songs are on that Spotify list? Hundreds. How am I supposed to find my song in that? Now youhaveto tell me.”
I yawn and stretch my arms. “It’s getting late. I should get to bed.”
Reluctantly, I step away from the porch, where Paige is shaking her head at me.
“I’ll be thinking of you as I drive home to your song,” I say, just to bug her.
“You better believe I will find it on your Spotify history.”
