Page 1 of You & I, Rewritten

CHAPTERONE

“Klair,I swear on all things holy if you make me late, I’m going to—”

I find myself being held against my will on the very busy, very public corner of 47th and 6th as my petite yet indomitable best friend rather forcefully yanks me around like a disgruntled mannequin in the name ofbetter lighting.

“Yeah, yeah…you’ll willingly throw away your oldest friendship and vow to never speak to me again,” she says, unimpressed, not even remotely concerned there could be a very real possibility I’m telling the truth. Even though she’s been an East Coast girl for most of her life, the twang of her Texan childhood roots still makes an appearance from time to time.Especially when she drinks tequila.

“No offense,William,” she hisses, knowing full well just how much Iadorethe use of my full name.Not.“But the wrath your mother would unleash on me if I didn’t send her a picture of you on your first day at your fancy new job is far more intimidating thananythingyou could threaten me with. Now hold still.”

She ignores the not-so-subtle gesture I make with my hand and resumes snapping away with her phone, leaving me standing as awkwardly as ever on the front steps of Austin Publishing House like a grumpy preteen on their first day of middle school.

Just breathe.The all-too-familiar spike of anxiety courses through my veins as I start to internally spiral over the magnitude of today. Moving back home is not always looked upon as a positive change in one’s life, but when Klair shared the advertisement for the junior editor position here in New York City, I leapt at the opportunity for professional change—whole-heartedly and with more careless vigor than I ever thought I was capable of. Risks aren’t my thing, even ones that mean coming home and being smothered by loved ones, so the significance of this moment is definitely not lost on me.

“Okay, for this one, can you try to look a little more excited? Oh, oh…maybe do a little jump or something?”

“Annddddthat’s where I draw the line. I’m out of here.” I mentally take back what I said before. She may be my oldest friend, but she’s also thebiggestpain in my ass. You know those girls that are so stunning you just randomly feel compelled to dislike them? That’s Klair Thompson. I would too if her heart wasn’t equally, if not more, beautiful.Damn her.Not much has changed about Klair since we were kids—she’s still all long legs with even longer brown and effortlessly wavy hair and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Brimming beneath those big brown eyes of hers is a glint of mischief—one that has gotten us inandout of every shade of trouble imaginable.

I pause at the entrance to Austin Publishing House—my new home—and stand in awe of the significance of this moment. At the age of twenty-seven, the path leading me to today hasn’t always been easy or linear, but I try to live each day with a humility and appreciation that comes from a firm belief that nothing is guaranteed in this life and in the blink of an eye, everything could, and most undoubtedly will, change. So while this new change and risk terrifies me, I am ready to leap into the proverbial unknown and throw myself headfirst into whatever comes next.

Rise. Heal. Overcome.

The line plays in my head over and over and over again as Klair reviews the dozens of photos she’s just taken. Honestly, it’s been the phrase most consistent with courage and new beginnings my entire life, as one of those sayings I’ve just always muttered without questioning it. But today, as I embark on what Klair and I are labelingMy Next Great Adventure, I can’t shake the feeling that this next chapter is going to be the one that changes everything.

“Hey, ugh, Will?” Klair says while dramatically waving her hands in front of my face. “If you don’t stop wasting our time out here, we’re going to be late.”

Klair’s self-labeled comedic timing interrupts my deeper-than-normal introspection as we head arm-in-arm through the heavy double doors. There’s just something I love about new beginnings. The chance to wipe your slate clean, completely starting anew in an environment where people know only what you want them to know.

Perfect.

* * *

After a quick meeting with human resources and being toured around the expansive office building, I finally get a moment to exhale at my new desk—which I have to admit made me far more excited than it should for being the tiniest cubicle in the history of cubicles. I fire up my new computer, lay out my agenda and Taylor Swift wall calendar, becauseduh, and lean back in my surprisingly comfortable office chair.Thisis adulting.

Klair, editor extraordinaire, local fashion icon, and the person I trust most in this world, leans over our shared desk wall and hands me a small, wrapped brown box.

“What’s this? I say, as she places the box in my hands.

“First days can be overwhelming,” she says, flashing me a warm smile. “But I wanted you to feel welcomed, appreciated, and a part of this phenomenal team right from the start.”

“Klair Thompson…you didnotneed to do this!”

As I undo the perfectly fastened bow and lift the lid, I see that she’s filled it with all the essentials a new employee in our field could possibly need: a notepad and pens, a personalized mug filled with those fancy coffee pods for the break room, and an adorable succulent to bring some life to my windowless desk. It’s such a sweet and unexpected gesture from someone who has already done so much for me over the years that I’m overcome with emotion.

I don’t even hesitate before stepping forward and giving her a hug, which she happily returns. “Thank you, Klair,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you enough how happy I am to have you back in my life like this.”

“Likewise, mister…but hey, HR just called, and it seems there was some sort of mix up? You need to pack up your things and head on back to Chicago,” she says, wiggling her fingers in my face.

Again, such top-notch humor.Barf.“Well, I instantly regret anything nice I have ever said to you…Has anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?”

“If by obnoxious you mean hilarious, then yes…daily.”

I can’t help but laugh at the fact that nothing has changed over the years. Growing up, Klair and I spent every waking moment together. From braces and the most awkward of phases to first crushes and heartbreaks, we’ve seen each other through all of life’s ups and downs. But I could always count on Klair to find the humor in it all. No matter what we had going on, there she was, finding a way to make me laugh harder than anyone on the planet.

The rest of the morning is a blur. Klair wastes no time in spilling the office gossip, dragging me from cubicle to cubicle and introducing me to everyone in sight, as well as pointing out which break room was stocked with the best snacks.I feel seen.

“Come on, we’ve got an impromptu staff meeting and we may or may not be already late,” Klair says, a whirlwind of efficiency as she starts grabbing her coffee, notepad, and several pens. Before I have time to allow my anxiety about punctuality spiral out of control or even ask what we’re about to walk into, she’s grabbing me by the arm, ushering me down the hall toward the large conference room. Thank God I have Klair with me as my guide while getting my bearings because even though I had an office tour earlier this morning, if I had to navigate back to this conference room alone, I’d be lost for ages and, paired with my tendencies toward punctuality, I would be slowly reeling into psychosis.

Pushing through the heavy, frosted-glass doors, the other members of the team, all who I met earlier this morning and have since failed to retain a single one of their names, are settling into their seats.

---