Predictably, Briar thought this would be a good place for him to meet someone, but none of these women are here to meet a man who’s the opposite of Ryan and his gray joggers. He’s the only person in the vicinity not dancing around like a fool or taking selfies with practiced silly faces. It’s a familiar feeling—like his whole life has been a party where everyone else is enjoying themselves while he sulks in the corner.
He cranes his neck and catches sight of the Ari doppelg?nger again. She’s still staring directly at him with an off-putting intensity.
She looks exhausted and flushed, but—
“…thirty seconds. As soon as the ball drops, the race begins. Runners, to your starting marks please!”
Even if he hadn’t had the precise contours of her face memorized for the last eight—nine?—years, he would still know it was Ari because she opens her mouth and screams out—
“Josh!” It’s barely audible over the growing roar of the crowd and the bouncy music, but he hears it.
His heart stops.
“Ten…”
“Josh!” she yells again, her voice louder but ragged.
“Okay, Ryan’s Racers, you’re gonna crush this!” Ryan holds up his hand in front of Josh and folds him into a nonconsensual bro-hug before he can avoid it.
“Nine…”
Josh whips back around and sees Ari reach forward and grab for the metal crowd-control barrier.
She has one leg over the top bar before a police officer rushes over and forces her back behind it. Josh pushes a couple inches closer to the curb, as if that will somehow make a difference.
She argues with the cop. She’s gesticulating. Pointing across the path. At him.
What gives her the fucking right? To show up here and shout his name like that?
“Eight…”
The officer walks away with a warning gesture and Ari looks back over to Josh, leaning forward against the barrier, both hands grasping the bars, with one foot resting on the lower bar of the barricade, like she’s ready to push down and make another attempt.
For some reason she’s wearing an extra-large logo sweatshirt over shorts and glittery tights. She must be fucking freezing. It makes his throat tight.
“Seven…”
Ari’s mouth continues to move, like she’s still yelling something important, something he absolutely has to hear, but the roar of the crowd around him is too loud to make it out.
“Six…”
Ari reaches into the neck of her sweatshirt and pulls out a phone from her bra. It’s the least surprising thing that’s happened in the last fifteen seconds.
He watches—mildly horrified—as she wipes the phone screen on her sleeve, before bowing her head slightly to type.
Two seconds later, Josh feels his back pocket buzz. He reaches for his phone, keeping his eyes on Ari. She’s watching him the way contestants on The Great British Bake Off watch their ovens.
“Five…”
Sun, Dec 31, 11:59 p.m.
Unknown Number: There’s something I need to say to you
He knows it’s more bullshit. She’s going to say something that seems harmless and friendly, while it actually upsets the hell out of the fragile balance of his inner turmoil.
He doesn’t type a response but just looks back up at her, giving a subtle and reluctant nod of assent.
She immediately lowers her head again, stepping down off the barrier, as if this text requires serious concentration. He feels himself grinding his jaw.
“Four…”
Ari remains focused on the phone, thumbs hovering over the screen, apparently writing a thousand-word-long persuasive essay about why they should be friends again. Webster’s Dictionary defines platonic as…
Ryan has already dipped Briar in preparation for their big midnight kiss, while one of the racers steps back to capture a video clip.
“Three…”
Ari’s head is still lowered. Minutes must have passed. Goddamn minutes.
“Two…”
He’ll have to run in a few seconds. Josh glances to either side for any kind of opening to escape from the starting line when his phone nearly vibrates out of his sweaty palm.
“One…Happy New Year!”
Unknown Number: I love you
That’s all it says. No apology. No explanation.
Chaos, fireworks, and “Auld Lang Syne” erupt as Josh stares at the three words he would have strangled metaphorical kittens to hear six months ago.
The man with the starter pistol raises his hand in the air.
Josh strains to look back at Ari through the crowd.