In Riptides

24 | best friend

R A C H E L

I always wanted a best friend.

Not the kind you share gossip in class with or only text when you're bored. I mean a real best friend, like the ones you see in movies. Two people who know each other's thoughts before they're even said. Who share something as simple as fries and as complex as secrets. I never had that growing up. Sure I had friends, but not the kind that got me. No one who could bring out the weird, unfiltered, fully embarrassing version of myself I usually keep locked behind a smile. And being an only child, I guess that's all I ever wanted. Someone who could be the sister I didn't have.

Then Lia DeMarco moved to Oceanview.

That day is still stupidly clear in my head. There's always a buzz when someone new shows up at school, that collective curiosity that spreads like wildfire. But honestly, the buzz wasn't about Lia so much as it was about her brother. Even as a kid, Rob had this easy charm that made girls develop instant crushes and guys scramble to make him their new best friend. Lia was the opposite. She could make an impression if she wanted, but she didn't want to. She wanted to blend into the background.

She was quiet. Fresh from Colorado. Homesick and disgusted by the concept of living in a town where she could get sand between her toes. But even on that first day, I saw something underneath all that distance. This sharp, interesting mind that was just waiting for someone to notice it. I don't think she said a single word to anyone that day. Except to our teacher. Oh, and me of course. Because while everyone else was following Rob like little ducklings, I found Lia during recess on the swings by herself, kicking at the bark chips like they'd personally dragged her to this godforsaken beach town.

I plopped down in the swing next to her and started talking. Babbling, really. And then she started babbling too. The floodgates were open, and it didn't take long before we were inseparable. Sleepovers every weekend, matching bracelets we made from string and beads, lip-syncing to our favorite songs for hilariously bad music videos shot in her backyard.

When high school started and I made the cheer squad, I knew she was worried I'd drift toward the popular crowd and leave her behind. And while I did get into that crowd, I was never going to leave her. She didn't want that world, and I didn't want to lose my best friend. So we made it work. Cliques and drama and social hierarchies were never going to get in the way of a friendship like ours. That's what I always thought, anyway.

I used to joke that if I ever went missing, the cops should just check wherever Lia was because odds were, I'd be right next to her. Well, I can't make that joke anymore.

If I went missing now... Lia wouldn't even notice.

〰️〰️〰️

The thing about walking into school alone is that it never used to feel so lonely.

There were mornings before when Lia and I would link arms from the parking lot to the front doors, sharing earbuds, talking over each other. There were mornings when Harris would find me before anyone else could, stealing me away before class started. And there were mornings when it was just me, but I was still smiled at. I still mattered. Now I just scroll my phone to look busy.

The same hallway that used to feel so welcome suddenly feels too long and too bright and full of people pretending I don't exist. It's been months since everything blew up between Lia and Matt, and somehow the rumors still haven't died. If anything, they've mutated like a virus that refuses to die out. What started as "Lia cheated on Matt with Nate" became "Lia hooks up with whoever she wants," and now it's morphed into a full-blown whisper network about her being a total mess.