A Promise Is A Promise

[3] Kayla

The past couple of weeks were still fresh in my mind, painful even. Claire had done something with Frankie. What that was, I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, either. I kept my mouth shut about it and didn't ask a thing. She didn't offer any information, either. That night just hovered between us, untouched completely. I thought it would stay that way, but then New Year's Eve came and my parents threw a party.

They threw one every year and it was one of my favorite things because they were friends with Claire's parents, so their family always came. This year, everything felt different, though. Even before they got there, I knew something was going to be weird with us. I just had that feeling.

When I opened the door for them, she was standing there, shrinking into her black coat and away from the cold, a covered bowl in her hands. We both stood there for a minute, each of our eyes glued to the other's. She opened her mouth to say something, but then her dad stepped up onto the porch behind her and our trance was broken. Her mom appeared a second later and I moved back to let them in, mumbling a hello.

"Kayla, it's so good to see you again," Mr. Fulton said, nodding and grinning at me before he took the bags of chips he was holding to the kitchen.

"Hi, honey," her mom added, giving me a kiss on the cheek and bustling past me, too. She'd taken the bowl from her daughter, leaving us alone in the front room.

Several long moments passed in the same tense silence until Claire snapped out of it and cleared her throat. "Do you want me to put my coat in—"

"In my mom and dad's room is fine," I awkwardly cut in over her. It was like we didn't even know how to act around each other and I hated it. She was my best friend. Why did we feel so out-of-touch?

I patiently watched her give a tiny nod and unbutton it, but when she slipped it off her shoulders and down her arms, a gasp just barely pushed its way past my lips.

"What?" She looked over at me, then around her, her eyebrows drawing together, highlighting her concern.

"N-Nothing. It's just your dress, it's really pretty." I forced myself to stop staring, shamefully putting my focus on my feet, but the image of her was burned into my mind. I found myself hoping it wouldn't leave.

"Thanks." I risked glancing at her and saw her cheeks turning pinker. The dress really was pretty with its red material starting with spaghetti straps and stopping halfway down her thighs. Still, I felt like it was her in it that put it over into the category of beautiful. She complimented my own black one, but I felt wildly outdone.

"Where do your parents want our coats, Kayla?" Mrs. Fulton asked from behind me, her voice getting closer.

"I'll take them, Mom," Claire told her, stepping towards her with her outstretched hand. Something in my stomach flipped like it had the night of the game, but it was different this time. It was more nerves and less hurt. I was nervous. Why was I nervous?

Once she had them, we went down the hall to put them on my parents' bed. There, in the dark, I thought for sure she would hear my beating heart, but she said nothing until we were back in the front room. "Who else is here? Is it just a bunch of adults that we don't know?"

"Pretty much." My fingers twisted together in front of my stomach as I spoke. I thought my words would come out trembling, but they thankfully didn't. "It's people they work with and people from church, plus my brother and one of his friends, so nobody important to us."

She softly laughed and we sank down next to each other on the loveseat against the wall. Her leg pressed into mine, the hot skin her dress didn't cover making something stir inside of me. "We're each other's only form of entertainment then?"