Page 32 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
Me:Good idea. Saves me from having to make up an awkward excuse.
Cole:Confidence booster, you are.
Maddie leans over, trying to peek at my phone screen. “You’re smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“You totally are. It’s cute. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your boyfriend Liam.”
My heart stutters at the word ‘boyfriend,’ but I hide it under an exaggerated eye roll. “Liam’s not my boyfriend. Don’t be annoying.”
Looking at Maddie now, I’m struck by how much she means to me. She’s not just my cousin—she’s been like a sister since we were kids, the person who knows me better than almost anyone. Which makes keeping this secret about Liam feel even worse. I would put her life before mine, but I can’t even tell her the truthabout Liam. I inhale, not ready to deal with her judgment or reaction. Not yet.
“I’m just saying,” she continues, “Cole seems like the kind of guy who actually calls when he says he will. Novel concept, I know.”
The rest of the day passes in a comfortable haze of small chores, homework that I half-heartedly attempt, and background TV that we’re not really watching. Every so often, my phone buzzes with another short message from Cole—nothing heavy or intense, just a slow drip of easy banter that makes me realize I’m looking forward to seeing him again.
Cole:What’s your favorite type of food? Trying to pick a restaurant that won’t give you food poisoning.
Me:Italian. And I appreciate your concern for my digestive health.
Cole:I aim to please. Also, I know a place that has excellent pasta and a very low mortality rate.
Me:Sold.
Cole:Fair warning—I’m probably going to be nervous and overcompensate by talking too much.
Me:Better than awkward silence. I’ll bring conversation topics just in case.
Cole:You’re very prepared for this dating thing.
Me:I like to have a plan.
I don’t notice that I’m checking my phone more often than usual, or that I’m smiling at his messages more than I probably should be. There’s something refreshing about the easy back-and-forth, the way he’s clearly putting thought into making sure I’m comfortable without being overwhelming about it.
As I’m getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth and washing my face, my phone lights up one more time.
Cole:Looking forward to Wednesday.
I stare at the message for a moment, struck by how simple and genuine it sounds. No games, no mysterious undertones, just honest interest.
Me:Me too.
And as I plug my phone in to charge and settle under my covers, I realize I haven’t heard from Liam at all. And after what we did last night, it worries me.
I lay in my bed and tell myself to not overthink or overreact. Liam’s made it clear he wants to take things at the pace I’m comfortable with. Maybe he doesn’t want to pry, but neither do I. I grab my phone and scroll through the messages with Cole and smile at how easy and natural it feels to talk to him. Maybethis doesn’t have to be a serious date, maybe we can be friends. Actual friends.
14
The First Date
Harper
Ipushopentherestaurant door and I’m immediately greeted by the low hum of conversation and warm lighting that softens everything into honey-gold tones. The kind of place that’s nice without being intimidating, with exposed brick walls and soft jazz playing just loud enough to create atmosphere without drowning out conversation.
I spot Cole immediately—he’s leaning back in a corner booth, menu open in front of him, but his eyes are scanning the room like he’s taking everything in. When our gazes meet across the restaurant, something in his posture shifts. Not dramatically, but there’s this small, almost imperceptible smile that spreads across his face, and suddenly all his attention is focused entirely on me.
I tuck my hair behind my ear, suddenly hyperaware of the click of my heeled boots against the hardwood floor as I weave between tables toward him.
