Page 99 of Betting on the Best Friend
I love hearing it, but . . . “That’s how I feel about Ava. And Madi and Sami.”
“Safe,” my mom says slowly, and I give her my attention. “I felt safe, like as long as I was with your dad, everything would be okay. But more than that. Like I could show up as any version of myself, and that it was okay. It didn’t feel like he was tolerating the less perfect versions of me. It was more like he wanted to create space for me to be any version I needed to be. And he never acted like he expected me to thank him for that.”
He kisses her hand again. “I will always be grateful that you are who you are.”
Ava gives a faint sniff, and Joey sighs like he’s feeling mighty put upon by listening to my parents be drippy. Big faker. Probably trying to hide his own sniffle.
“But also, I always wanted to make out with him,” my mom adds.
My dad chuckles. “And we did.”
“Did?” Joey repeats. “You meando.”
I smile. It’s true. They’re still very affectionate. We all learned early never to walk into their room without knocking.
“For me,” Joey says, and I look at him in surprise. I didn’t expect him to answer. “For me, it was the kiss. It’s not when I fell. It’s when I realized I’d already fallen.”
He looks up at Ava, who is smiling down at him. She knows this, but I like watching them remember the moment. “Love you,” he says. She leans down and gives him a soft kiss.
“I did that,” I blurt.
“Got us together?” Joey asks, confused. “We know.”
I sit up and take a deep breath. “Charlie kissed me. And maybe I love him.”
My dad’s eyebrows shoot up, and Joey gives a low whistle. “Okay, Charlie,” he says, which I barely hear over Ava’s squeal.
“Maybeyou love him?” my mom prods. “You don’t know?”
I slump. “No. It’s like everything you all said. Every day is better with him in it than if he’s not. I feel safe to be any version of myself I want to be with him.”
“What about this kissing?” my mom asks. This house has heard many, many post-kissing analyses.
“It was . . .” I pause, trying to find the words.
“Respectful?” my dad asks.
“Special?” my mom asks.
“Awkward?” Joey asks.
“Good?” Ava asks.
I point at her.
“Good,” my mom repeats, sounding satisfied.
“If feeling like you got electrified from the inside out and then liquified and then electrified again is good, then yes,” I say as Joey groans. “Good.”
Ava cheers and my mom grins at me. “Yeah, that’s good.”
Even though my dad is shaking his head, he’s smiling. “So why aren’t you sure?”
“Why is this all coming up now?” That’s what’s bothering me. “Why all of a sudden? Why not before?”
“Does it matter?” Ava asks. “I don’t mean that dismissively. But I wonder if the timing matters when it’s a good thing.”
“Good question, babe,” Joey says. He looks at me, waiting for the answer. Despite my grumbling, this is Joey at his best. Present. Reading the moment. And I love that he always does this for me when it matters.
