Just Friends(24)

Find him. Find him—my body thrums with energy.

The bleachers have cleared out, so I’m left standing alone, using the vantage point to look for Declan.

I spot him.

He’s the only one standing still amid the maelstrom. People are running back and forth, pumping their fists, picking up teammates in bear hugs, and putting them back down. Cheerleaders’ pom-poms are cascading in formation.

But Declan is standing still, looking at me. It feels like a lock clicking into place when our eyes meet. A wordless understanding.

I sprint down the stairs as fast as my legs will take me, and I’m immediately thrown into the crowd, shoulders bumping into me at my eyeline.

I push through and run toward him. The smile overtaking his face cheers me on. It’s the kind of smile that bubbles up and can’t help but take over your entire face, demanding to be seen.

The satisfied relief etched into his body language at the sight of me feels rewarding in a way I can’t describe. The feeling of being equally wanted in a place you already craved to be.

He stretches his arms out for me to leap into.

So I do.

I jump, arms wrapping around his neck, the shoulder pads of his uniform giving me purchase, and my legs follow suit, wrapping around his middle. He spins me in a circle, and our breathless laughter bursts into each other’s necks. His warm breath tickles my ear as he slows, and for a moment, I panic, knowing that when I look at him from this position, something substantial will have changed between us. The tectonic plates of our friendship are shifting. Whatever happens next will be the aftershock.

I pull back to look at him, and instantly I just know. Maybe it’s the mixture of longing and hesitation in his eyes. Maybe it’s the excitement of having just won the game or the sounds around us dimming our better judgment, but somehow, we both come to a silent agreement. He leans in, not giving me a second to hesitate.

Our lips meet, and the crush of them together sends shock waves through my entire body. Having imagined how his lips would feel beneath mine a thousand times only adds to my elation.

It’s happening. It’s finally happening, I think.

He pulls away slowly, seeming to savor the moment equally as much as he disbelieves it’s happening. I actually giggle; the sound is light and giddy, like a child’s surprised delight at seeing bubbles for the first time—a sound I’ve never heard come out of me. He responds with a low chuckle, vibrating the dense air between us.

My feet find the ground, and I stare up at him. My cheeks must be burning crimson. I’ve wanted this for so, so long. And if anything, the first thing I feel is vindication; it wasn’t just me feeling the spark—I wasn’t the only one harboring hope for a future where we were more than just friends.

“How long,” he breathes, urgency in his tone.

“What?”

“How long, Blair,” he begs.

“Yes.” I laugh.

“What?”

“Yes, Declan. This whole time. Yes, to all of it. Every year. Every single year I’ve known you.” I know he’s asking how long I’ve liked him. I know because it’s the first thing I wondered when he pressed his lips to mine.

I feel giddy with the relief of it. Of saying it aloud and seeing his pleased face staring back at me. He’s so beautiful.

He crushes his lips back against mine, as if he can’t stop himself now that it’s been allowed. We laugh, pulling apart. I feel like I’m in a dream. Like my head is floating off my shoulders, bubbles rising to the top and releasing with a satisfying fizz.

“Why now?” I can’t help blurting.

He understands the question instantly. “Because.” He looks away, wiping a hand through his sweaty hair, and then back at me again. “Because I can’t—I really don’t want to mess this up, Blair. If we start, I don’t want us to end.”

It sounds like he’s thought about that sentiment a thousand times before confessing it. And I understand the feeling so deeply, I don’t know how to communicate it in words.

I readjust my grip on the back of his neck, making sure he hears me when I say, “You won’t mess this up.” I shake my head. “If the goal was to make sure you didn’t ruin this friendship, I’ve already done that a thousand times in my head.”

The smile I was hoping for creeps onto his face, starting from the corners of his lips as he realizes my meaning.

Confetti pops from canisters beside us with a loud CRACK, and colorful pieces of paper rain down on us gently—a piece of pink confetti sticks to my cheek. Declan looks at me like I might disappear if he looks away. Like, if he’s not careful he might wake up to find that this was all a dream. He lifts his hand. The movement is slow, tender, as he brushes the confetti off my cheek, holding it between his fingers like a trophy.

“Let me take you on a date,” he says.

“What? A date?” I stall, still not believing this is finally happening.

“A date,” he confirms.

“Yes.” I nod vigorously, like an army sergeant commanded it.

He smiles, his dimple deepening. The freckle on his bottom lip catches my attention.

I finally kissed that freckle, I think to myself.

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at seven p.m. Wear clothes you don’t mind getting dirty.”

“Yes,” I say again.