Page 69 of Every Move You Make

“No,” she bellows.

“She cried to me about it later. Said she was broken. Begged me to help her and stay with her, but,” I shake my head. “I couldn't. I didn’t want to.”

“You guys were together for like…”

“Three and a half years.”

“Isaiah,I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not,” I smile. “I’m glad it ended.”

“Well I’m sorry you went through that, but,” she raises her cup to mine again, “cheers to seeing the positive, I guess.”

“How was your summer?”

“What? Like we didn’t text for most of it?” she teases.

“I know,” I chuckle.

“Actually!” she beams, the lightbulb in her brain turning on. “I didn’t tell you! Last weekend I was at my cousin’s wedding as a bridesmaid, and I met the most incredible man! I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

My heart crashes into a brick wall, but she continues.

“We met at the reception, and we had this instant connection. Apparently his parents were friends with my mom in high school, but I’ve never met them! His name is Wyatt, and we talked all night and at one point,” she pauses to giggle and push her hand against my shoulder. “At one point, he calls over to my cousin and shouts, ‘I’m gonna marry this girl!’ Can you believe that?”

No, I really can’t. I want to crawl into a cave and die.

“The next thing I know, he’s showing up the next day to pick me up on his motorcycle and drive me to meet his family.”

“Robyn,” I hiss. “You got on a motorcycle with a stranger?”

“He wasn’t a stranger,” she says and rolls her eyes. “We had spent the whole reception together the night before and our families know each other.”

Suddenly I can’t control my breathing. “Robyn, motorcycles are incredibly dangerous.”

Her eyes narrow. “I know. That’s kind of the exciting part.” She places a hand on my shoulder again, this time in a reassuring manner. “I was fine, Zay. He didn’t try any stunts or drive too fast or anything.”

“What did you say his name was?”

“Wyatt.”

“Last name?”

“O’Connor…”

I nod casually. “Is he a student?”

“Yeah, he’s a senior at Brandywine studying engineering.”

“Well if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stop riding a motorcycle.” She looks at me like I’m a fuddy-duddy. I don’t care. “Are you seeing him again?”

“Yeah,” she blushes. “He’s coming to visit me next weekend. I think he’s going to ask me to be his girlfriend.”

Fuck.

“Do you want to be?” The heart that once kept me alive is trampled with her happy little nod. I sigh because what else can I do? I lost my opportunity. I had the smallest fucking window to climb through and prove I could be more than a friend to her, and it closed before I even had the chance.

All I can do now is be what I’ve always been—her buddy. I’ll be the guy she texts about rugby; the guy she sends gifs of hedgehogs. I’ll be the guy she texts pictures of her giant rugby bruises; the one she sends new made-up verses to rugby drinking songs. And I’ll pretend the friend-shaped space in my heart doesn’t go deeper. I’ll pretend. Because a life without Robyn Cassidy isn’t much of a life.

---