Me:You’re making me blush. Where should I meet you guys?
Harley:Katies. 30 mins?
Me:See you then :)
Thirty minutes is plenty of time to have a quick shower and make myself look semi-presentable, but not like I’m trying too hard.
I don’t want to come across as too eager, so I settle on a bit of mascara to thicken up my naturally long lashes, some lip balm, blue jeans, and a black, knitted sweater with my signature black boots before I head out the door to have a milkshake with my very first best friend and my very first non-celebrity crush.
twelve
Harley
I texted Bea, lettingher know that I’m out the front of her house the moment I put my car in park. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, her words play on repeat in my head.
"Something tells me she’s looking for a friend right now."
I don’t want to be more than friends with anyone right now, so I can be just friends with Cassandra Herring.
After all, it’s all I know how to be.
In high school, I thought there were moments of sparks and chemistry between us, but I realised quickly how in my head it all was when she started dating Austin. Everything I’d felt for her was all one-sided.
Instead of letting a girl consume me, I spent the rest of high school focusing on football and trying to avoid Austin’s spiteful comments toward me.
Once we’d graduated, I refused to let his name ever cross my mind or come out of my mouth.
He wasn’t worth it to me.
Cassandra, though? I thought about her often.
I mostly wondered how she was and hoped that she was happy. I accepted the fact that if I were to ever see her again, it would be a complete accident and would be from afar.
Especially while Austin was in the picture.
While I had accepted that they were together a long time ago, a tiny piece of me shattered when the news spread about their engagement earlier this year. Maybe that same piece was holding onto hope that there was still a chance for Cassandra Herring and me, but that dream was one of a teenager.
When Bea had told me to just be friends with her, I told her I would, and I meant it.
Sure, she still has the most beautiful eyes that have ever looked my way, and plump lips that I never got the chance to kiss, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to jeopardize the friendship we could have.
No matter how often the big guy below begs and aches for her.
Pulling my passenger side door open, Bea slams it shut like she does every time she gets in or out of my Range Rover. She’s not gentle with anything she touches, and I flinch in anticipation.
"Is Laney sure she doesn’t want to come?" I ask. Bea’s wife is one of the best people I know. The three of us hang out constantly, but it’s not uncommon for her to not want to join us.
"She likes her own company. She asked if you could keep me forever." She rolls her eyes playfully as she rolls down the window before pulling her seatbelt over her shoulder, clicking it in.
They’ve been married for three years, and I was themanof honor, standing by Bea’s side. I made her a promise that she would be mybest maidif I ever got married.
Looking me up and down, she sizes up my outfit and a shit-eating grin forms across her lips, and I shift uncomfortably inmy seat. Following her gaze to my black sweater, I check for stains or anything out of the ordinary, but nothing stands out.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"You and I go to Katie’s for a milkshake weekly, and you only ever wear sweats unless you’re in a suit from a long day at work, but today, you’re in a knitted sweater and jeans?" she asks, raising a brow and puffing out her cheeks. "You could have told me we were trying to impress her. I would’ve dressed for the occasion," she teases, pulling at the fabric of her maroon, hooded jumper, and running her hands down her black tights, while her short, blonde hair is down, embracing her natural wave.
"Whatever."
