Page 12 of Pinky Promises

“Ooo.” She sets her drink down and props her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her fists. A Cheshire cat smile appears on her lips, reminding me of the Shirley MacLaine GIF the girls always include in our group chats. “Do tell.”

“Honestly, I don’t know much; she didn’t want to talk about it. I don’t even knowwhythey broke up. All Idoknow is that he took her to dinner last night.”

“Oh, where did he take her?”

“Seriously, Zo? Does that matter?”

She waves her hand. “Yeah, you’re right, carry on.”

I roll my eyes. The way her brain goes through squirrel moments, I’ll be lucky to finish this conversation in the near future. “So, he took her to dinner, although they never even made it to ordering, because he just flat out said ‘we should break up.’ Like who does that.”

“Wow, that guy is a major dick. I knew he sucked from the beginning, but damn, made her get ready, looking hot, I’m sure.”

My heart begins to beat fast as I remember her walking out into the living room last night after he arrived to pick her up. There was a twinkle in her eyes and a brightness to her smile that I wish was for just me, but the girl I found buried in her covers had lost both of those. Just the thought of that douchebag hurting her makes me want to punch something.

A gentle hand presses against my hand. “Relax, dude, before you squeeze the life out of that coffee. There’s a warning label that says ‘Careful, hot,’ so I’m pretty sure you’re up the creek without a paddle if you spill it all over you and burn a layer of skin off and can’t sue.”

“Up the creek without a paddle? What are you, a middle-aged man?” I chuckle and let go of the coffee, leaning back in my chair and placing my hands in my pockets. These chairs are uncomfortable as hell. I don’t know how she spends hours here doing schoolwork.

“Hey.” She points her finger in my direction, and I playfully snap at it. “Don’t knock that phrase; it’s my dad’s favorite phrase. He found himself saying it pretty much daily when he was the only guy in a house full of girls. I guess it just stuck.” She shrugs and glances out the window. I know she struggles with being away from her family while at college. I’ve heard plenty of stories of her parents and sisters. She always has a bright smile on her face. I only wish I could do the same when I talk about my family like that, but it’s typically a bitter taste in my mouth when I talk about my father. As for my mother, I don’t have many memories of her before she passed away, but the photos I have tell of a different life we lived. Maybe things would have been different had my father not have lost her and become the cold, heartless bastard he is today.

Silence takes over the table as I look around at the people going about this business.

“So, you finally making your move or what?”

I choke on my sip, nearly spitting it out all over the table. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, you and I both know that’s why you and I were, well, you and I—I became the buffer.”

“The what?” Is this some sort of weird phrase the college kids are using these days?

“You know, the buffer?” When I don’t respond, she continues. “When you’re in love with your best friend, you need someone to talk to because you can’t exactly talk to them about it, and well, that’s me. Do you think I never noticed how whenever Brynn was around with Spencer and I was with you guys, you didn’talwayshave to touch me in some form or sit super close to me? We both know we don’t float that way”—she grimaces, and if I didn’t feel the same way about her, I might take offense—“but others might not. You gave off this front that you were happy, but I knew you were dying inside having to witness her with someone else. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I avoid her gaze, and my lack of telling her that she’s wrong is a dead giveaway. A montage of moments she was referring to plays out in my head. When she puts it that way, it makes me feel like a total asshole, like I almost used her in a sense.God, am I any better than Brynn’s ex?I run my hand over the hairs on the back of my neck.

“Stop that,” Zoe scolds. “I can tell you are overthinking things right now. But please wipe that look off your face and the little bit of coffee you missed on your lip.” She points to her mouth, mimicking where there must be coffee on mine. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, hopefully catching the leftover liquid. She nods when I make eye contact with her again, knowing I was asking if I got it all.

“You and I both know that I’m right, so it’s about time you start admitting it.” I guess there’s no denying my feelings. Zoe can basically read me like a book. Which is pretty sad since we’ve only known each other for a few months—what about those who’ve known me for years? How is it that Brynn hasn’t even figured it out?

I sigh heavily. “If I admit it aloud, it becomes real, and there’s so much more to lose when it’s real.”

“So you want to live in a fantasy world where both you and her are in love with each other, yet no one has the balls to say anything?”

I open my mouth to speak, but she holds up her hand, stopping me.

“Yeah, because that seems healthy. And don’t tell me she’s not also in love with you, because anyone with eyes can see it. Hell, even a blind person could probably tell, feeling the sexual chemistry with you two. I’m pretty sure if I lit a match in the same vicinity as you guys, it would explode like a damn nuclear bomb.”

“Sexual chemistry is different than love.”

“No, don’t do that. You don’t see it because you don’t allow yourself to see it, but damnit, Cal, life is short. If you don’t tell her, then you’re going to miss out because someone else who isn’t afraid to admit their feelings is going to snatch her up, and you’ll be forced to swallow your feelings down for good.” She pauses. “So, now are you going to be honest and tell me how long you’ve been in love with Brynn Macallister?”

I lean back in my chair, stretching my legs out under the table. “I don’t think that that’s the right question to ask. I think the better question is when have Inot beenin love with Brynn Macallister. But I’m not sure I know the answer to that one either because I can’t really recall a time when I wasn’t.”

“Finally! Hallelujah,” Zoe shouts, throwing her hands in the air, forgetting that we are in a crowded coffee shop. She winces and scrunches her face up, realizing where she is, and looks around, mouthing, “Sorry,” to no one in particular. “Oh my God, I’ve got a brilliant beyond brilliant idea.”

“Should I be worried that you are quotingThe Parent Trapand are this excited? I feel like there should be a light bulb illuminating up over your head.” I smirk and rise out of my chair jokingly to inspect if there was.

Zoe holds her hands out in front of her. “First of all, let’s skip over the fact that you know where that line came from.” She knows better than to ask because the answer is simple—Brynn. B became obsessed with that movie and even made me learn the special handshake once while trying to pass the time during a function our parents dragged us to. “And second of all, you are going to love this idea. You love all my crazy plans.” I could easily retort and say that’s not true. It’s not that I don’t love her ideas because maybe eighty percent of the time they lead to a good time, but there’s also that twenty percent that has me worried. However, my curiosity has got the best of me as to what this brilliant plan could be.

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