Maybe Something More

01 | coffee date gone wrong

AYDEN
____________________

SO IT WASN'T really a 'date' with Juliette, per se, but I still liked to consider it one, especially considering the fact that it was just going to be the two of us sitting at our usual spot at the small coffee shop that was a five-minute walk from our houses.

Ever since the first day of high school, Juliette and I agreed to meet here every weekend to get rid of stress and to catch up on what we missed during the week since school tended to drown you in homework. Even though it was summer vacation, we still kept a habit of meeting up here because we both had summer jobs. I'd been looking forward to every weekend since then.

See, I liked Juliette. Actually, scratch that; I think I'm in love with her. She was the only girl in school who didn't hang out with me because she thought I was the hottest guy in school—rough chance of her thinking that one—or popular—which she didn't seem to care about at all. That was the thing with Jules, though: she was pretty and smart and funny without trying, and it's like she defies the social ladder or something because she manages to be liked by tons of guys, too.

And then there's me. I wouldn't say that I'm just the best friend, but I was, and I don't think that's going to change any time soon unless Jules overreacted to the news I had to tell her today.

I gulped nervously and checked my watch again, waiting for Jules, who was running several minutes late.

Where could she be? I wondered before my phone began to ring. I picked it up swiftly and hit answer.

"Oh my God, Ayden! I'm so sorry I'm late!" I heard Juliette exclaim on the other end of the receiver. "Mom had problems with the flower orders at the shop so I just had to help her."

I laughed. "Nah, it's no problem, Jules," I replied. "I don't mind waiting a couple more minutes."

"Oh good," she said, sounding relieved. "Be there in two, okay? Bye!"

"Bye." We hung up, and I let out an exasperated breath as I leaned back and attempted to figure out how exactly I was gonna tell Jules about my Harvard predicament.

You see, I was going off to college soon and Harvard, the main university I've been dying to go to, had offered me a full scholarship for completely acing the entrance exams—something that came easily after staying up until twelve in the morning drowning in words and math formulas.

I knew I had it good, but then I couldn't forget what I'd promised Jules, too. She suggested that I go to one of the smaller colleges that were at least an hours' drive from here so that we could still hang out, something which would've been impossible to say no to.

But knowing that there was a slim chance of me getting what I wanted—Juliette and going to Harvard—I was going to have to pick soon.

And I picked Harvard. Because what idiot turns down an Ivy?

Truth be told, even I, Ayden Lancaster, star quarterback of the Eastwood High's Fighting Lions, top of the senior class, and dubbed hottest guy in school—courtesy of Annaliese Greier, currently number one for the girls—knew that it was impossible to get a girl like Juliette. She would just think that I'm playing her and then, since I'd turned down the Harvard scholarship I would look like a dumbass who didn't get the girl or the college of their dreams.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the little bell signaling a new customer came in rang from the top of the shop's door.

As a guy, I would've blatantly stated that she looked hot. Period. Truthfully, if all the guys at school had been here, there would've been a flurry of exchanging numbers and one angry Ayden. But as her best friend, I'd say that she looked nice in a flowery blouse with sleeves that exposed her shoulders and a pair of jean shorts matched with yellow flip-flops with a yellow flower on top.