Page 65 of Forever Then

I can’t see her face from here, but I already know the braces will be gone. There’s sure to be a white-toothed smile in their place that lights up the whole night sky.

“Gretch!” Drew shouts, meeting her halfway. She jumps up, wrapping him in a hug.

“You’re back!”

“Connor and I got in a few hours ago,” Drew says as I grow deeply invested in Mr. & Mrs. Fisher’s roofline. So many…shingles.

“Oh, is he here?”

“You ran right past him, you goof.”

Our gazes meet as she turns around. For only a fraction of a second, something like surprise flashes in her eyes before they soften.

“Hey, Fish.” I order my smile to read kind and platonic.PLATONIC!

In three strides, she wraps her arms around my neck. Platonic doesn’t equal impolite, so I hug her back but only with ample space for Jesus between us.

“It’s good to see you, Connor.”

“You too.”

Holy. Shit.Gretchen Fisher grew up real good and I definitely shouldnotbe noticing.

For the better part ofthe month, I successfully avoid her. With her work schedule at the community pool, Drew and I’s social calendar, plus our weekend trips into the city to apartment hunt, our run-ins are few and far between. Awkward and generally terrible, but few and far between.

There was that early morning in the kitchenbefore the rest of the house was up. I was on my way out for a run when I stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water. Only, when I found Gretchen was already there pouring a cup of coffee, I spun on a dime, stabbed my AirPods in my ears and marched right out the front door. Water is for the weak anyway.

As far as the coffee shop run-in goes, if I’d known she was there, I would have gone somewhere else. After collecting my order from the barista, Gretchen called me over to where she was seated with a few other girls her age. My mind circled back to a time when she didn’t have many friends. Softened as my heart may have been in that moment, I made quick work of saying hi to the table and got the hell out of there.

Then, there was last night.

Me along with the whole Fisher family were hunkered in the living room for family movie night. Gretchen pickedPitch Perfectand I should have seen that for the omen it was.

Across the room in the plush armchair, she sat wrapped in a blanket, knees tucked to her chest. Not an inch of skin was showing but she was still so beautiful.

Glass of Diet Coke over ice in hand, she was three handfuls deep on her first bag of peanut butter M&Ms when she proudly announced during the opening credits, “Hey parents, did you know Drew took me to see this when I was eleven?”

I choked on my popcorn. Drew turned on a slow-motion swivel, pure death in his eyes as Kelly and Paul erupted with laughter.

“How’d she manipulate you this time?” Paul sputtered out.

“I was not manipulated.” Drew’s tone promised revenge.

“No. I just bribed him. He didn’t want me to tell you that he had a par—” A pillow pummeled her in the face, Drew launching three more in quick succession behind it.

Gretchen emerged from under the mountain of pillows still laughing. Minutes later, everyone’s focus back on the television again, my eyes drifted. Hers were right there to meet me. She half-grinned. I half-grinned. She winked. My grin grew a little wider and I winked back.

Drew shifted on the couch, pulling my attention. My best friend’s gaze was narrowed right at me, inquisition threatening.

The second the end credits began to roll, I loudly announced I needed to call my mom and barricaded myself in the guest bedroom for the rest of the night.

I skippedbreakfast for the usual reason of needing to avoid Gretchen. Only, now you can add her brother to the list.

It’s lunchtime and the hangry pains are kicking in. I finally tread down the stairs, cautiously peeking around corners for signs of a half-dressed Gretchen or a nunchuck-wielding Drew. Both possibilities equally terrifying.

Finding the kitchen empty, I exhale a sigh of relief and raid the fridge.

Sounds of splashing and laughter bring me to the breakfast nook window. Gretchen and a few friends are hanging by the pool. Maybe I met the girls at the coffee shop last week. I can’t be sure. But it’s the two teenage boys competing for biggest cannonball that have my fists clenching at my sides. The girls laugh at their antics from their perch on the pool’s edge, legs dangling in the water.

---