Page 34 of Sparks Fly

“Yes,” Lilly said. “Babe, you’ve been my best friend since we were seven. I know you. And he doesn’t make you happy. And you deserve to be happy. You deserve full strength, not decaf.”

I sighed, “I was afraid to tell you.” I said honestly.

“Why?” She asked.

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I just sometimes think…” I trailed off.

“Babe, I know your mom is—well—your mom.” She laughed. “But, this is me. You don’t have to pretend with me, Addie.”

I wanted to tell her right then. But, I still didn’t know how she’d react that the the person I really wanted was a woman, and not a man.

* * *

By the time I got home that night, I was done in every sense of the word. I pulled on sweats, made tea I didn’t drink, and sank onto the couch. Without thinking, I opened Instagram and somehow ended up rereading Sawyer’s messages from that first week.

The honesty. The steadiness. The way she didn’t ask for more than I was offering but didn’t pull away either.

I opened our text thread again and typed.

Me: Hope your day was good. Miss you.

I watched the screen for a moment before her reply appeared.

Sawyer: It just got better. I miss you too. How was yours?

I leaned back into the couch cushion before responding.

Me: Long. Didn’t want the day to end without texting you.

Her reply came quickly.

Sawyer: I like that. I’m in bed. Hoodie. Socks. Very glamorous.

I smiled and pulled the blanket closer around my legs.

Me: Cozy welder aesthetic. 10/10.

Sawyer answered almost immediately.

Sawyer: Careful. You might get an invite.

I laughed softly under my breath before typing back.

Me: I may say yes.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Sawyer: Promise?

I stared at the word for a moment before answering.

Me: Goodnight, Sawyer.

Her reply came seconds later.

Sawyer: Goodnight, Addie. Sweet dreams.

Addie.