Page 15 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
“Isn’t it obvious?” Jenna asked, diving into the guacamole with one of her chips before popping it into her mouth. We were in the middle of the food court at the mall, hundreds of people around us shopping away, not knowing my best friend was dropping astronomical news on me mid-Mexican Fiesta. “He’s leaving, B. Jamie is about to graduate and move to California. It’s been fun, but it’s over. I mean, I knew this was coming. He was a great boyfriend, but it is what it is.”
She said it so nonchalantly, dressing up another chip while I gripped my foil-wrapped burrito so hard the fillings oozed out onto my hands. I dropped it to my plate, grabbing more napkins, mouth still open wide. “Jenna, you can’t break up with Jamie. You guys are perfect together.”
Jenna scrunched her nose. “I mean, we’re cute together, yes, but he’s going to college, dude. He’s going to want some sorority girl or something. And I’m going to be a senior. The last thing I want is a long-distance relationship.”
“But this is Jamie!” I argued. “We’re talking about hilarious, down-to-earth, smart and driven Jamie. The guy who brought us chick flicks, french fries, and chocolate when it was period week. The guy who went to every single football game to watch you cheer. The guy who wore a freaking hot pink tie to match your prom dress.” I was waving my arms around like a mad woman, but Jenna didn’t bat an eye.
“Like I said, he was a great boyfriend. Amazing, even. But we both knew it wasn’t going to last. And it’s totally okay.”
“No it’s not!” I couldn’t figure out why I was so horrified by her news, but I just couldn’t let it go. “He listens to classical music, Jenna. Like come on, what other guy do you know who listens to classical music?”
“Um, no one?”
“Exactly!” I said, exasperated. “And he has goals. He wants a family. He has the best sense of humor but he can also be serious when he needs to be. He’s like the pegasus to your unicorn.”
“Okay…”
“And he’s a good friend. Like, the best kind. He treats his mom like a queen and that says something about a man. And he drives a bright cherry red Jeep, Jenna! He surfs!”
“Oh my God, I get it!” she finally huffed, tossing her hands up before crossing them over her chest. She rolled her eyes. “Jeeze, maybe you should date him.”
I had nothing in my mouth to choke on, but I choked anyway. “What? No, no way. He’s, no Jamie is your boyfriend. You guys are perfect together. Jamie and I? No. We couldn’t, we’d never. No way.” I was stumbling over my words, slurping my drink too hard in-between sentences. I was officially the furthest thing from cool about the whole situation.
And Jenna noticed.
She narrowed her eyes. “I was joking, spazz. What is up with you? Why does this bother you so much?”
Jenna was scrutinizing me, waiting for a confession of some kind. I stared back at her for a minute, frozen, and then finally forced a long, deep breath before covering my face with my hands. “Ugh, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just really thought you guys were good together.” I sighed, scrubbing my hands down my face and letting them slap into my lap. “I just want you to be happy. But clearly you’re fine with this and it’s what you want, so of course I support you. It’s just my job as your best friend to question big decisions like this and make you think about them.”
She was still watching me, eyes wary, but she smiled. “I love you, B. Even if you are thirty-five shades of weird.”
“Love you too, bestie.”
I forced a smile and changed the subject, all the while replaying our conversation in my head and wondering how Jamie would take the news.
I must have texted Jenna a million times that night asking if she’d done it yet, but she hadn’t. She waited four days to break up with him, and once she told me it was done, I waited again — for him to text, for him to show up at my house, to want to take a drive. But he didn’t. He didn’t say a word to me. Not the night it happened, or the night after, or the week after. Jamie completely ignored me and Jenna both until the night he graduated.
And that was when I met the other side of Jamie Shaw.
• • •
It had been more than three months since I’d had a Friday night off.
Since I needed every single Friday off in the fall semester for the games, I had to make up for it once football season was over by picking up the Friday slack at the grocery store. But now, school was out, the seniors were currently walking across the stage at our high school gym, and I was less than an hour away from stepping into the role they just left vacant.
