Page 11 of Unholy Confessions
"And if it doesn't go well?"
His smile falters slightly. "Then I'll figure something else out. But Montgomery, I have a good feeling about this. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can actually succeed at something."
The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest tight. "You can succeed at anything you put your mind to, RJ. You always could. Sometimes our brains just need a little help getting there."
"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Montgomery?" he teases, but there's affection in his voice.
"That's my best friend opinion," I reply, and I see him wince slightly at the word 'friend.' It gives me a little thrill of hope. Neither one of us have mentioned the kiss, at least not yet.
"Best friend," he repeats quietly. "Yeah, that's what we are."
But the way he says it makes it sound like a question rather than a statement. Like he's testing the words to see if they fit.
The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the library grounds. Soon, I'll have to go home for dinner, and he'll have to go back to his house, and this perfect moment will be over. But for now, we're just sitting here in our gazebo, talking about the future like it's something bright and full of possibility.
"What about you?" RJ asks suddenly. "What do you want to do with your life?"
The question catches me off guard. I've been so focused on worrying about him that I haven't given much thought to my own future. "I don't know. College, I guess. Maybe study journalism or English. I like writing."
"You're good at it too. Remember that story you wrote for English class last year? About the girl who could hear people's thoughts?"
I'm surprised he remembers that. "You actually read it?"
"Of course I read it. I read everything you write." He pauses. "You could be a writer, Montgomery. A real one."
"Maybe." I duck my head, feeling shy under his praise. "I'd like to travel too. I've been on tour with my dad during the summers, but I'd like to see more."
"We could do that together someday," he says, and then seems to realize what he's said. "I mean, if you wanted to. If we're still... if we still know each other."
"Of course we'll still know each other," I say firmly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Rhett James Thompson."
He laughs, and the sound is pure joy. "Good. Because I'm going to need my best friend cheering me on when I'm playing sold-out arenas."
"Sold-out arenas, huh? Someone's confident."
"Someone's medicated," he corrects with a grin. "Big difference."
I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. "Just promise me you won't forget about me when you're famous."
His expression grows serious. "I could never forget about you, Montgomery. You're..." He stops, shaking his head. "You're the most important person in my life."
My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "You're pretty important to me too."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the library's lights begin to flicker on in the gathering dusk. Other than the distant sound of traffic, it's peaceful here, like we're the only two people in the world.
"I should probably head home," I finally say, though I don't want to leave.
"Yeah, me too. But Montgomery?" He catches my hand as I start to stand. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me. For doing the hard shit, by telling others about it. For being here when I needed you. For..." He struggles for words. "For being you."
I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I'll always be here for you, RJ. No matter what."
He stands too, and for a moment, we're standing close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand is still holding mine, and I can feel his thumb tracing small circles on my skin.
"I know," he says softly. "And that means everything to me."
