Page 1 of Daydream

Chapter OneHALLE

“ITHINK WE SHOULD BREAKup, Halle.”

Will’s somber expression looks ridiculous against the backdrop of my kitchen. The frills and florals once picked by my nana, always too sentimental and nostalgic for me to replace. Lemon-yellow cabinets, a DIY project undertaken after she learned to mix dry martinis at home with Mrs. Astor from next door. Joy, the Ragdoll cat Nana bought to celebrate me moving in, snoozing on the breakfast bar surrounded by crochet fish. The smell of the second batch of croissants, because I always ruin the first.

It’s all too domestic. Too unserious. Too normal to warrant his rigidness.

His eyes follow my every move as I remove the This Is Me Baking apron he bought for my birthday, like he’s waiting for me to have some kind of dramatic outburst. The tightness in his jaw accentuates the sharp angles of his face, and he looks nothing like the laid-back guy I’ve dated for the past year, and even less like my friend of ten years. No, this Will looks very much like a man on the edge.

After hanging my apron on the hook beside the stove, I pull a stool toward me so we can sit opposite each other at the breakfastbar. When I rest my face on my palm, I’m not sure if I’m intentionally mirroring him or if this is the result of knowing each other so long.

He reaches across the counter and takes my hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze, an encouragement. “Say something, Hals. I still want to be your friend.”

I need to say something. What I lack in experience, I make up for in common sense, so I’m fairly confident that breakups are a two-way conversation. I squeeze his hand back so I at leastappearto be engaging with him. “Okay.”

This isn’t how I imagined my first breakup would go. I never expected to feel… nothing? I thought I’d physically feel my heart crack in my chest. That the birds would stop singing and the skies would turn gray, and while there is the emptiness I once imagined, it’s somehow not the same. I’m not necessarily sure it’s normal to imagine your first heartbreak, but I thought mine would be the tiniest bit interesting at least. But sadly, in line with my love life as a whole, this is bland. Nothing shatters and the sky is the same blue it always is here in Los Angeles.

“You don’t need to hold back, Hals. You can be honest about how you feel.”

His encouragement to speak my mind almost makes this whole thing worse. Taking my hand from his, I press my palms into my thighs and weigh the best way to tackle this. “I’m not. You’re right; I don’t think we’re supposed to be more than friends.”

Will blinks twice, hard. “You agree? You’re not upset?”

I get the overwhelming sense that Will wants me to be upset, and I can’t say I blame him. I’d be happy to be upset because at least if I was, I could believe that I’m capable of falling in love.

Because I really, really wanted to fall in love with him.

I’m not a person who struggles with words, but right now you wouldn’t be able to tell that about me. I have no desire to hurt Will, which is why it’s so hard to find the right thing to say. I’m honestly beginning to regret not faking an emotional outburst.

“It’s not that I’m not upset; I just don’t think we should drag things out if we’re not working. I love you, Will. I don’t want to compromise our friendship trying to have a relationship.”More than we already have, is what I don’t say.

“But you’re not in love with me,” he adds, the bitterness clear in his tone. “Are you?”

If I could kick myself, I would. “Does that even matter when you’re in the middle of breaking up with me?”

It’s like I kickedhim. “It matters to me. Saying you love me and being in love with me isn’t the same thing. But you’re not, are you? You never have been, and that’s why you’re happy.”

I can’t believe he thinks that this is me happy. Does he know me at all?

To everyone but the two of us, Will Ellington and I were inevitable.

When my parents split up and my mom married my stepdad, Paul, we relocated from New York to Arizona for Paul’s job. The Ellingtons lived next door and our parents quickly became best friends. I’ve lost track of the number of holidays and vacations we’ve spent together over the past decade, meaning Will and I had little choice when it came to spending time together.

However, there was never tension between us. No will-they-won’t-they rumors, no lingering hands or secret moments. Just Halle and Will, neighbors who were good friends.

We survived high school together, and I watched him date everyone in our class without a “You Belong with Me” moment in sight. Then a year ago, when we were both home from college for the summer, Will invited me to be his date to a wedding. I’m pretty confident he had a first choice, and it wasn’t me, but my invitation came in the form of pressure from his parents.

Ever thetraditionalists, they didn’t think it was healthy for a woman to spend her summer reading and writing, because I’d “never find a boyfriend hunched over a book.” Even when my teenage sister,Gigi, told them the 1800s called and wanted their mindset back, they still insisted I accept the invitation.

It was at the wedding, after too many gulps from a wine bottle we’d stolen from one of the tables, that we had the kiss that sparked this whole mess.

It was exciting at first, and those two weeks before we went back to school, I saw our relationship in a whole new way. Will had always been popular, and as much as I despise admitting it now, I felt special that he wanted to date me.

He was the captain of our high school hockey team, a future NHL star according to those in the know. He’d always been handsome and charismatic; he could get himself out of any situation with that charming smile of his. College had only increased his confidence, and during my visits throughout our freshman year, it was clear he was as well liked there as he had been back home.

So, all things considered, why wouldn’t I want to date him when everyone else did? He was my only friend. It made sense, right?

I was captain of nothing, with no need to get myself out of any situation because I wasn’t doing anything of interest. There isn’t a long list of complimentary adjectives that follow when people talk about me. So yeah, I was a little flattered.

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