I Heart My Best Friend

Runaway Girl

My mom noticed things weren't the same with Jay. He stopped coming over to walk me to school. It's because he got a car, my mom would say, and even she wouldn't half believe it.
Thanksgiving was approaching. Couldn't we cancel the thing all together? Jay's family always came over for Thanksgiving. Usually, that would be a reason to be happy. This time it wasn't. There was nothing usual about my life recently.
That afternoon, my mom took me shopping with her to fetch the things we needed for the Thanksgiving dinner.
"Jay's allergic to barley right?" my mom asked me.
My facade of stability snapped at that moment.
"How do you expect me to know? I'm not a Jay-pedia!"
My mother paused and looked at me. She had noticed the difference in my behavior lately. And she wasn't dumb. You could be dumb and still piece the jigsaw that is my obsession with Jay together.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked. Motherly wisdom oozed from her words.
I was tired of lying. I didn't want to hide it anymore.
"I miss him," I said, tears welling up in my eyes.
My mother dropped what she was holding and gave me her undivided attention.
I was going to cry.
"I miss him. Why did he have to be so perfect?" I asked rhetorically.
"Honey... "
I was breaking down. The tears of months unshed were threatening to drown me now.
"I didn't want to fall... I never wanted to..."
I just couldn't stop.
In that instant, my mother's eyes widened and her lower lip dropped. She was staring in my direction, but not at me.
I turned round, my interest piqued.
He stood there, the embodiment of perfection. How long had he been there?
"Mrs. Bloom," he greeted, nodding his head towards her.
She waved. Then she started to leave.
"Mom," I called, following after her.
Warmness heated my wrist. Butterflies were having a summer party in my heart. Oxygen was stuck in my lungs, it just wouldn't go anywhere.
Jay was holding my wrist, his eyes focused on me. He had the look of someone who knew what he was doing and the effect he had on others.
"Amber, I... " I tugged my wrist away from his grip.
He wasn't letting go, he grabbed the other one and tried to get me to face him.
I refused.
"Let. Me. Go." I said, and my heart rebuked me. I wanted this didn't I? I wanted to be close to him. To hear his voice.
"Give me a minute to talk, please."
Tears choked me. I nodded, giving in to him.
He held my hand and spun me round to look at him. He grabbed the other hand and held both firmly. He turned them, looking at my palms and putting his fingers through mine.
I blinked once. The only function my body could manage at that moment.
"Amber, I love you."
My insides were burning up. My body was tearing apart.
He turned my hand to look at my palm again before looking me in the eyes once more.
"You're my best friend. You always will be."
Confusion mocked me. He loved me? He was my best friend? I didn't know which to desire.
He pulled me closer and hugged me, confirming the latter. I shut my eyes and let him hold me. I missed him. I missed my best friend.
When I opened my eyes, I met myself on my bed. I yelled wildly and broke down into a nervous wreck. It was a dream.