Page 8 of The Summer We Played Pretend

“I thought we’d be together forever.” I crush the tissue in my hand. “I’m an idiot.”

“Chloe, you’re not an idiot. You don't deserve this,” Sara murmurs. “You're one of the best people I know. Brendan's...he's making a huge mistake.”

“You’re a bit biased, I know.”

She cocks her head. “Biased, but not stupid.”

I draw in a shaky breath. Thank God I have Sara. We’ve been friends for years, and she’s seen me at my absolute worst and somehow never faltered. She’s the one who stayed up with me the night before finals, talking me down when I spiraled. I'm beginning to realize Brendan knew the curated version of me—the me I thought I had to be to keep him interested.

“I just—I thought he loved me, you know?”

She squeezes my shoulder gently. “I know you did. And you loved him. But sometimes love isn't enough, especially if it's not coming from both sides.” Her voice is soft but firm, like she's trying to etch her words onto my heart.

“Maybe,” I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. The silence stretches between us, comfortable yet loaded with the unsaid.

“Chloe, there's something else,” Sara says abruptly, her tone shifting. I look up, caught off-guard by the sudden steel in her voice.

“What is it?” I ask, a new knot of anxiety forming in my stomach.

“I don’t want to hurt you but I think you need to know.”

“There’s a rumor going around that Brendan was seen well...” She pauses, her jaw clenching. “Kissing someone else.”

The room tilts, and I grip the edge of the bed to steady myself. “Kissing?” My voice sounds distant, like someone else's echo. “Kissing who?”

“Maisie Collins.” She huffs out a breath. “When’s his next shift at Joe’s? I should hunt him down and—”

“God, Sara.” I try to absorb the words. Maisie was in the grade below us. She’s cute and bubbly, and I know the boys in the grade used to go mad for her.

Is this why I’ve been dumped? So he could date Maisie?

My heart comes to a shuddering standstill. I feel numb, hollowed out. “Did he cheat on me?” I say aloud, the words more of an experiment than anything.

Did he cheat on me? Was he capable of that?

“I'm sorry, Chlo.” She reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “But maybe it's better this way. You see his true colors now. You're going to get through this. And I'll be right here with you, okay?”

“Okay,” I reply, the word brittle in my mouth. As the reality sinks in, I lean into Sara, grateful for her presence, for her fury on my behalf. It's a small comfort, but right now, it's everything.

A mischievous twinkle replaces the stormy anger in Sara's eyes, and her lips twitch into a scheming smile. “You know, Chloe,” she starts, leaning closer as if about to share a top-secret plan, “if you want, I could always 'accidentally' spill my iced mocha on his precious varsity jacket.”

I blink at her as Sara stands, miming holding a cup and then flinging it with dramatic flair, her blonde hair swishing around her face.

“Oops,” she says with mock innocence, batting her eyelashes. “Clumsy me.”

A bubble of laughter escapes me before I can catch it. It feels foreign, this laugh, but it's like a breath of fresh air in a suffocating room.

“I could beat him up, you know.”

“You’re not that strong, Sara.” I roll my eyes and manage a smile.

“Hey, these muscles aren't just for show,” Sara retorts, flexing comically, and I shake my head.

I reach out, swatting at her arm lightly. “Stop it, you're being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is my middle name,” she declares with a grin, collapsing back onto the bed beside me.

“Thanks, Sara.” I lie back on the bed next to her. “You’re the best.”

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