Page 23 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

Eventually, her thrasher song plays out and shifts back into a slow country song. I don’t budge, and she seems perfectly content staying right where we are.

“That was sure weird,” an older man says as he brings his wife back onto the dance floor. He glances to the head of my best friend, which is still tucked against my chest.

“It’s always weird,” I tell him, earning me a quick poke in the ribs.

“Ahh, hey!” I laugh out as I arch from her tickle attack.

“That’s still not fair,” I say, running my hands around her waist to the small of her back. I slip them under her sweatshirt, expecting to feel the fabric of a T-shirt underneath, but instead, my palms meet bare skin. Her body stiffens, and for a blip, I pause our rocking motion.

“Sorry,” I say as I start to pull them away.

“No, don’t,” she says, shifting her head so her chin is propped on my chest. “It’s nice.”

Her eyes blink slowly, and my lungs fill with this fluttering sensation like I’ve been drugged. I nod softly then drop my lips to her forehead. Her eyes close and a tranquil smile pulls at the sides of her mouth.

“I bet Brayden’s jealous,” she says.

I don’t bother looking. I’m sure he is. In fact, he’s probably plotting my demise at this very moment. But I don’t care about Brayden right now. I care about this girl right here, and the sudden massive confusion rattling around my head over how I feel and what I’m going to do about it.

“Let him,” I say.

Let him.

Let . . . me.

7

nikki

I may skip class sometimes. Okay, I may skip accounting constantly. But, I’ve never sat out an entire day from anything in my life. Usually, I skip the thing I’m supposed to do because there’s something I’d rather do.

But yesterday? I did nothing. Literally. Nothing.

I couldn’t. I woke up with this strange urge to vomit, sat up, felt my world spin, then instantly laid back down. Omar had to cover my floor meeting with my residents, which, well, that was a win. The floor meetings are mandatory and nobody wants to be there. This month is a door decorating contest for a ten-dollar food hall gift card. I can all but guarantee the only girl who has a white board on her door on which she sarcastically writes THIS IS MY (FILL IN THE MONTH) DECORATION ENTRY will be the winner. She’s the only one who participates.

The weird thing is, I couldn’t stand the thought of music in my ears yesterday. I tried, both with my headphones and without. But the sound only made my head feel worse—throbbing and swirling, with nothing good to show for it.

Alex kept offering to come over and take care of me, which I wanted desperately, especially after our night at Patty’s. I’m even more confused about my situation than I was before. But also, I’m kind of freaked out about my head. And the last thing I want to do is freak Alex out. He has enough on his plate without worrying about me having a dizzy spell or two. Besides, I woke up normal today. So I’m sure it was a bug.

But the fact the mix I made last week now sounds completely fucked up has me concerned. I haven’t changed a thing, and looking at the settings proves it visually. Why it doesn’t sound right is a mystery.

I drop my headphones to my neck and close my laptop at the feel of my phone vibrating. I pull it out of my pocket to see my mom calling, and my stomach tightens because as close as me and her are, she doesn’t call much. This could only mean one thing.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Did you know about Senior and Marie?” Senior is Alex’s dad. That’s how Mom and I keep them straight. She’s known them both since high school, so I’m sure this news has her in a tizzy.

I sigh.

“¡Mija! How come you didn’t tell me?”

I knew she would fly right to this.

“Because I was being there for Alex, and he said Marie was working through things and would tell you on her own time.” I fail to mention that Alex only told me a few days ago. Last thing I need is my mom exploring why Alex would keep it a secret too.

“Okay, well. It’s good he has you. He must be really upset. This is such a surprise. They were—” She stops there and simply sighs out a sob.

This is my mom. And I am positive this is why Marie waited to until she was absolutely ready for Julianne Thomas’s emotional sympathy. It’s why my mom can’t watch Hallmark movies. She takes everything to heart—deeply to heart.

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