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summary: (see last chapter) (last part!)(AGAIN! the song is important for the moment!)
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"Hey, here," I tossed Peter a clean shirt. It's one of my dad's old ones. I used to wear his tees as nightgowns as a little girl. They'd go well over my knees because he's so tall and I was tiny as a little one.
Peter sat on the edge of my childhood bed. In my childhood room. Yes. Most of my childhood was spent in my grandparent's home.
"Those kids meant business. They were relentless," Peter shared with a laugh. "I knew they were crazy from the stories you told me but that was intense!"
"I told you my family is chaos breathing," I turned to him and noticed some balloon bits in his still rather wet hair. I walked up to him where he sat and started picking them out carefully, so as to not pull his hair too much.
"Got balloons in your hair, Pete," I said softly. I was trying to remain focused on the task at hand instead of him looking up at me with a look of pure adoration.
I can't help but think about what my grandma said. She saw right through our facade. Granted it's not a great one. We haven't been doing much to hold up said facade. Especially because we don't have to do much. My family already believes we're together.
Peter stood up while I was turned to throw away the balloon pieces into my little room trash bin. I turned back around and found myself chest to chest with him. I gasped softly, my breath caught in my throat.
Peter seemed to be shocked by the closeness too. Yet neither one of us pulled away. I had my hands placed on his chest and my eyes locked with his. I swear I saw his chocolate browns dart down to my lips a few times. Before he blushed.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to- get all up in your space like that."
"It's... okay," I laughed nervously as I stepped away from him. Sheepishly, I scratched the back of my head and watched him turn to leave the room. He had his hand on the doorknob before my brain caught up with what was going on. "Pete..."
He turned around so fast he nearly fell over but caught himself on the wall, trying to make it look like he did it on purpose.
I bit my lip with a sigh and shook my head. "Never mind. Sorry. I um... need a minute. I'll be out in a second."
"Oh... okay. Well. They're gonna do the fireworks soon."
"I have no doubt you'll come knocking before they do," We exchanged a half smile and he left, closing my door behind him.
I found myself curled up on my creaky childhood bed with tears gathering in my eyes. Why's it so hard? I have feelings for my best friend, but every time I try to accept and act on them I freeze up.
