Jack
No way. Send proof.
A picture populates on her side of the conversation, and I swallow. In a dark, crowded room, Aulie stands dressed in a lace camisole, a cardigan that’s her signature outfit topper falling slightly off her shoulder.
I tell my heart to behave, bracing myself to look at her eyes, the piece of her that holds me arrested more than any other. The part that’s a window to her soul. But when my gaze falls upon hers, my ready heart sputters in an unfamiliar rhythm.
The starlight perpetually hung in Aulie’s eyes no longer sparkles, and its absence feels like a direct punch in the gut.
For the first time since we were re-introduced, she looks exhausted. Defeated even. Like she’s finally accepted the truth I stumbled upon years ago. Happy endings are a work of fiction, and there’s no escape from the torture and heartache this world dumps on everyone.
For all the teasing I’ve given her over the years about her nauseatingly optimistic demeanor, I want to believe happily-ever-afters exist if only to provide a spark for her. One that would reignite the stars that had once burned in brilliant defiance.
Jack
Call me tomorrow?
Dessy
Sure. But please, Jack. I’m serious. Go home.
I pause, racking my brain for an appropriate response. But my head is thicketed with a blanket of tequila fog, and well—a thumbs up should be okay, right?
“Everything good?” Grady asks, sitting across from me at the table and sneaking fries out of my bag.
I swallow, dropping my phone on the table and sip my far too-sweet frozen confection.
“Yeah, fine. Just sobering up.” I rub the heels of my hand into my eyes, trying to get the haunting image of Aulie’s vacant stare out of my mind. “You were right. I probably overdid it.”
Grady crosses his arms and snorts as if to say,No shit.“Aulie call you out?”
“Uh, yeah.” I dip my head, ceding the fact. “Like she always does.”
He laughs, growing bolder and stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. “She’s going to get sick of your shit one day. I’m surprised she hasn’t already.” He grabs one burger, unwraps it and inhales it.
“What are you—I didn’t buy these to share.” I press my lips into a thin line, biting down the panic Grady’s unintentional earworm lays. It would probably be for the best if Aulie got sick of me one day and finally cut me loose, untethering me from the pull I can’t quit that always leads me back to her.
Back to someone I can never have, even if she’s everything I want.
“Figured. But I burned a shit ton of calories dragging your ass here the last block and a half, so it wouldn’t have killed you to ask.” A glob of ketchup falls to the outside of Grady’s lips, and he tries to swipe it clean with his tongue.
“You’re lucky I don’t get sick ofyourshit,” I say, shaking my head and passing him a napkin.
“Nah. We lifers, baby.” Grady winks.
My chest warms. For most of my life I’ve lived in my dad’s shadow, always unsure of who is friends with me, Jack the general grump and not Jack—son of John Parker. Grady, for all the shit I give him, is a loyal friend and I’m thankful for our friendship…most of the time.
Slaking his hand across the table, Grady grabs my milkshake. What is he—no. I cringe as he wraps his mouth around the straw.
“Dude. What the hell?”
His eyes close, savoring his sip, and a low hum vibrates his throat.
Yeah. It’s definitely way cuter when Aulie does that.
ChapterFive
Jack Parker
