Page 8 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

Every single one.

She’d probably start digging a tunnel to escape the conversation. But I just wanted to see what kind of guy she keeps falling for on the page.

Still clutching the fireman book like it might self-destruct, Isla quickly slides it under her pillow.

“Okay! Moving on.” She crosses the room, grabs a dusty box labeledMemoriesfrom the shelf, and plops down on the floor with dramatic flair. I settle beside her, close enough to catch a whiff of her shampoo. Peaches. Always peaches.

“Look at this!” She pulls out a faded photo of us, grinning. “Remember how we met?”

How could I forget? It was the day Isla, her mom, and her brother moved in next door. I watched in horror as one of the boxes split open on the curb, and a whole mess of books tumbled out across the muddy pavement.

In the picture, we’re all muddy and disheveled. Eight-year-old me is sporting what has to be the world’s most ridiculous proud grin, while tiny Isla clutches a rescued copy ofAnne of Green Gableslike it’s pure gold. Her twin brother, Conner is sprawled face-first in the background, a victim of our impromptu chase scene.

Our moms thought the whole thing was hilarious. My mom couldn’t stop taking pictures, absolutely delighted that her college best friend’s kids were already bonding with her too-serious kid.

Isla’s mom just kept apologizing between laughs for the chaos her children brought to the neighborhood, even though she’d been warning my mom for years about her twins’ tendency to turn everything into chaos.

Isla traces the edge of the photo, her smile turning wistful. “Can’t believe we are still neighbors and best friends after twenty years.”

And somehow, I still haven’t managed to win you over. Some people are slow learners. Apparently, I’m one of them.

“At least we were smart enough to make the friendship pact,” she continues. “Protecting our friendship from all that messy relationship stuff. Otherwise, it might have ended badly like today.”

“Yeah,” I force a smile, but it feels like swallowing glass.

If only she knew.

The friendship pact was made when we were fifteen, after watching her cousin Annie’s world implode. Annie’s lifelong friendship with her best friend was gone in the blink of an eye because they thought they could risk it all for romance. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Painful and impossible to stop.

“You don’t just lose the romance, sweetie. You lose everything.”Annie warned us both.

“Let’s promise we’ll never be like that,”Isla had said that day, her eyes fierce with determination.“No matter what happens, our friendship has to come first.”

I’d agreed. What else could I do? I was already harboring a crush that threatened to consume me, but the fear in Isla’s eyes stopped the words in my throat. I buried my feelings and signed that contract.

Better to keep Isla in my life as a friend than risk losing her completely.

Isla’s face scrunches up as she pulls out a faded pink paper from the box. Her cheeks flush, and she groans. “Oh no, not this.”

“What’s that?”

She shakes her head, crumpling the paper. “Nothing. Just some embarrassing old thing.”

My hand darts out, snatching the paper from her grasp as I stand. My height gives me an unfair advantage as I hold it just out of her reach, grinning while she scrambles to her feet with a dramatic huff.

“Asher!” Isla’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Give it back!”

I smirk, unfolding the paper.

Isla’s Love Bucket List: 3 Things to Do with My True Love

“It’s just some dumb thing I wrote years ago.” She makes an attempt to leap up and grab the paper like she’s going for Olympic gold. “Totally embarrassing. Hand it over.”

I scan the faded handwriting, thumb brushing over one of the wishes, imagining doing each item with Isla. Could I be the one to help check these off her list?

“What’s embarrassing about knowing what you want?”

Isla lunges for the paper again, but I sidestep her easily.

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