Page 16 of Unmasking Secrets
Just. Like. Me.
I hold my breath.
His eyes narrow at me. “We can keep the light on.” It comes out more like a groan.
I fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together and let him know the effect he’s having on me. So, I nod.
Archie slowly rolls over, but doesn’t put as much distance between us as before.
I exhale as I feel his hand near mine. His pinky twitches, then hooks onto mine.
What does this mean?
Fifteen YearsEarlier - Age 17
He makesa face as he sits down across the table. I make a face right back at him. It’s the same every year on our birthdays. Our families meet in the middle of those days for a double celebration. We were born days apart, so we’re used to being around each other. Especially at this time of year.
Even with school and extracurricular activities, we make time for this day. It’s important to both of our moms; they’re best friends after all. His mom picks up the balloons, mine bakes the cake and brings two candles. It doesn’t matter how many candles are supposed to be on the cake, there’s always two. One for each of us.
I always make a wish. Some years it’s different from others. I always wonder if he makes a wish too, but we never discuss it.
“Tabitha, are you ready for graduation?” Archie’s dad speaks up at the end of the table next to my own.
“As soon as I hear from colleges, I will be.” I laugh.
This has been the only stressful part of life. That, and wondering if I should just go to prom alone in two months.
“I have an idea for prom.” Archie starts, as if reading my mind. “It’s the last one, so we should go together. I mean, with our other friends too. A group of us. No stress. All fun.”
It’s not exactly what I was expecting him to say. I can’t admit it out loud, that I sort of wanted to go with him. Would that be weird? This would be the next best thing, though.
“Sure, that sounds great.” I smile before reaching across the table for the chips and salsa.
Archie’s foot nudges mine under the table, and I look up to see him making another face.
We ignore the rest of the table. Our parents and grandparents talk about what is happening lately while we stay in our own little world. We might as well be sitting at another table.
Then, his foot brushes against mine. Again.
My eyes narrow at him, and he smirks.
Is he trying to play footsie?
Our eyes remain focused on one another. His nostrils flare and his chest rises. Our feet continue to touch, moving slightly, as if we could get closer.
There have been moments like this that make me question if we’re really just friends. Realistically, I know it’s all in my head. He would’ve said something by now. We don’t keep secrets from each other.
Even though I’m keeping a big one from him. It’s too risky. His friendship means too much. Our parents’ friendship means too much.
I’d rather have him in my life as a friend than not at all.
With graduation coming up, my heart feels like it’s lodging itself into my throat. We’re not going to the same college. That was the original plan. When he told me last month he wasn’t going, I couldn’t believe it. We’d made plans to hang out in each other’s dorms and everything.
He chose the military instead. Well, the academy route. It shouldn’t have surprised me and I’m so proud of him. It’s an honor to be chosen. He put in the work to have the grades and recommendations to make it an option.
At some point, most of his family and the club have enlisted. The club is full of members from various branches. I just thought if he went to college with me, he wouldn’t join. He’d be safe from the thoughts of war or the trouble that the club might get into.
Part of me hoped something would change during those college years. That maybe—just maybe—he would see me as more than a friend.
