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“Did you use up all the pink beads?” Sandra’s best friend’s daughter asks with narrowed eyes. “Because I need some to finish mine.”
I shake my head and push the container with the different pink beads to her. “Are you kidding? No way.” Look at me, playing at the kids table, letting the grown-ups mingle.
Surrounded by pink and red sparkly hearts, confetti, and streamers, I feel like the Valentine birthday decorations reflect the strongest feelings in my heart. As Will stands beneath a strand of cutouts, that all too familiar ache spreads all over my body. I wish they made an NSAID for being lovesick—I’m sure it’d make a killing.
Sigh.
Of course I’m bummed we aren’ttogethertogether. But at least he’s still in my life, and that’s the silver lining I need to hold onto.
Smiling to myself, I tie off my second bracelet and roll it onto my wrist, this one a little looser than the first. After all, it isn’t for me.
When I lift my eyes, Will is looking back at me, a smile on his face. I give him a small little wave, a shy smile, and he takes this as an invitation to leave his group of adoring fans and come over.
“Hey,” he says with a grin, staring down at me. “You been hiding or something?”
“Not at all. Just keeping myself busy while I make you one of these.” I slip the larger bracelet off my wrist and pass it to him. Will takes it in his hands and holds it almost reverently, fingers running over the three square letter beads with the letters BFF with two heart beads on the side.
“What is this?”
“You told me—BFF’s remember? You said we could even get matching friendship bracelets.” I lift my hand up to show him, wiggle my wrist in the air. “So I made some. Matching friendship bracelets.”
Something akin to frustration flashes through his eyes, but it’s gone so quickly I begin to wonder whether it was real or I imagined it. After examining the beads a little closer, he slips it on, the light pink and white beads contrasting beautifully against his tan skin.
“You don’t have toactuallywear it.” I roll my eyes, but deep down I’m thrilled. “It was meant as a joke.”
“Are you wearing yours?”
“I—” I look down at my wrist. “I guess so?”
“Then I’m wearing mine.”
My heart does that somersault thing it’s been doing way too much of. The Olympic-level kind that leaves me a little dizzy and a lot achy—the one I also feel low in my core.
“You know, I take back what I said before. You actually make a terrible buffer, Bridge.”
I grin back. “I know you wanted me to play interference, but c’mon. Look at how cute they are with you! Your mom and your found family aunts adore you.”
He laughs softly and shakes his head. “Yeah. But the inquisition has been getting intense. You could’ve at least stood by my side. Distracted them a bit.”
“So they can ask us whether we’re hooking up? Wouldn’t that have made it worse?” I whisper in the hopes the eleven-year old girl in front of us doesn’t hear us. “No, thanks.” I mean it as a joke, but he winces.
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be silly. Family members are supposed to embarrass you like this.” Or so I’ve been told.
“Well, I think that?—”
“Will.” Sandra comes up behind him, her voice filled with humor. She knows what she’s doing. Will closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before turning to face his mother.
“Yes, Mom?”
“Lisa and the girls are getting the cake and everything ready to sing happy birthday, but of all the things they got for the party, no one thought to get candles.” She laughs softly.
“Do you need me to run out and get some?”
“No, not at all. Alexandria already left a couple of minutes ago. But what I mean is that it’ll probably be a while before we sing happy birthday. So why don’t you go ahead and show Bridget your room stuff while we wait til everything’s ready? On top of that, they keep fighting over how to set up the table for maximum photographic aesthetic appeal, as they claim. I get the feeling it’s going to be a while. You’ll have a bunch of time to show her all your awards and artistic abilities and stuff.”
“Artistic abilities?” I look back and forth between the two Jacobs.
