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PROLOGUE
MELANIE
There’s no time like the present to send your brother’s best friend a recording of yourself expressing your undying love for him, am I right?
“Of course you’re right. Do it,” I whisper to myself, answering my own question.
Talking to myself? Wow, what the heck is in those pain meds the doctor gave me? I tap the camera app on my phone and press record before I lose my nerve.
“Heeeeeeeey, West!” I say to my phone screen. Noticing my normally well-kept hair is sticking up all over the place, I smooth it down with my free hand.
Usually, tangled hair would trigger my anxiety, but I currently feel more relaxed than I have in years.
“Thanks for the birthday text! Having appendicitis on your birthday sucks… but hearing from you made me feel better.” A loud hiccup pops out of my mouth but I ignore it and continue, “I miss you and Harrison sooooo much!”
“Don’t tell Harrison this, but I miss you more than him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings… my brother is WAY more sensitive than he seems,” I whisper the last part.
I’m feeling extraordinarily brave right now; maybe it’s because I’m eighteen today and that means I’m more mature and stuff… or maybe it’s just the anesthesia still wearing off from my emergency surgery.
“Anyway, everything was better when you lived right next door. I hate that you and Harry are away at college.” A hiccup-laugh combo creates a loud squeak and I burst into giggles again.
“Don’t tell him I called him Harry.” I cup my hand over my mouth like someone is next to me and I don’t want them to read my lips, even though I’m alone in my room. Mom thinks I’m taking a post-surgery nap.
I glance over at the large corkboard on my wall, which is filled with neat rows of concert ticket stubs and photos. Some of my friends have similar boards, but theirs are a mess of randomly placed photos and magazine clippings. Not mine. My photos are straight, and organized by the date they were taken. Most of the pictures are of me, Harrison, and West. The three musketeers. I yawn, exhaustion starting to make me sway.
“I’m sending you this video because…” I pause and stare into the eyes of West—the photo version on my corkboard—pretending he’s right here in front of me. I’m a brave eighteen-year-old now. I can do this.
“Because I’m in love with you.” I attempt a wink, but I think it looked more like a bug flew into my eye.
“It feels like there’s something special happening between us. Like One Direction sings about in all their songs.” I squint my eyes shut and try my hardest to recall some of the lyrics to my favorite One Direction song, “One Thing.” I sing to the photo of West something about him being my kryptonite. I belt the song out passionately, at least the parts I can actually remember at the moment.
Honestly, my vocals are impeccable for how loopy I feel.
“So, for my birthday… I don’t want to be the three musketeers anymore. I want to be West and Melanie.” I smile then gasp out loud when the best couple name pops into my head. “WESANIE! Do you like it? Oh my gosh, isn’t it perfect?”
I smile at the screen before kissing it, picturing West’s lips instead of my cold phone screen. It’s covered with drool when I pull back, and I wipe it off with the weighted blanket on my bed. I can’t think of anything else to say so I end the recording. Without even replaying it, I text it to West’s number.
He’s going to love it. I know he and Harrison made that stupid pact that they’d never date each other’s sisters, but that was years ago! I’m basically an adult now. I can vote, get a tattoo, and smoke cigarettes (not that I’d ever do that). So dating my brother’s best friend definitely isn’t off the table.
I’m an adult and the world is my oyster.
* * *
“Melanie? Sweetie?” My mom’s voice wakes me from the strangest dream. She rubs my back with her hand and smiles.
I blink a few times because she’s so out of focus, it looks like there are five of her. My eyes don’t seem to be working. I squint at the bright light coming in through my window; last I remember, it was dark out.
“What day is it?” My voice comes out in a croak.
Mom chuckles, her shoulder-length hair and large round eyes are starting to come into focus. “You had to have surgery yesterday, and you were pretty out of it from the anesthesia. Although very entertaining.”
I begin to sit up in my bed but groan when the soreness in my abdomen hits me.
“You poor thing, let me help.” My mom gently grabs my arm and helps me sit up and rest against the headboard of my twin-sized bed.
She turns and grabs some pills and a glass of water she must’ve brought in with her. “Here, take these. They’ll help with the pain. The doctor said you’ll be sore for the rest of the week.”
I rub my temples, trying to recall the events from yesterday. “It’s so strange. I totally thought I dreamt the entire appendicitis debacle.” Closing my eyes, I can smell the scent of lavender essential oils coming from my diffuser. Mom must’ve turned it on while I was asleep. “Wait, you said I’ll be sore all week? What about swimming?”
