Page 83 of All Our Almosts

“Don’t get excited, it’s not as fancy as it seems.”

Andy pulled a small square package out from his pants pocket. I walked over, then took it from him as I joined him on the edge of the bed. The gift was immaculately wrapped, every corner crisp and neat—such a perfectionist, even back then.

He seemed tense, anxiously running his fingers through his hair as I tore through the paper and hinged open the small gray box. Inside was a pair of tear-shaped red gems on gold posts.

“Earrings?” I asked, emotion evident in my voice.

“I should tell you—I didn’t buy them or anything. They’re old. They were my grandma’s, and then they were my mom’s, but she doesn’t have a daughter, obviously, so she just gave them to me and told me I should give them to someone I care about.”

He must have seen something change in my expression then, because he jumped to add, “I—I figure my best friend qualifies.”

“Andy, I don’t know what to say.” I cradled the box in my palm, tracing the velvet exterior with my fingertip.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“I didn’t get you anything for your graduation last year.”

“Sure you did. You used my extra ticket when Owen didn’t show up, and you made conversation with my mom all day—that’s a gift money can’t buy. And you cheered embarrassingly loud,” he said as he bumped my shoulder, “so now I get to embarrass you a little.”

I slapped his arm. “Well, you’ve succeeded. This is way too nice, I don’t think I can take these.”

“Yes, you can,” he said. And that was that.

I stood and rushed back to my mirror to try them on. I could feel tears welling at the corners of my eyes. “I really love them. I’ve never had anything like this. Thank you.”

Then I ran back across the room, tackling Andy backwards onto the mattress and squeezing him tight. He laughed as he hugged me back, until he felt the wetness of my tears on his neck.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said, pushing me back just far enough to swipe the apple of my cheek with his thumb. “I’m never going to give you a gift again if you can’t keep it together.”

I tried to laugh but the tears kept falling.

“And hey, this is a secret, remember?” he whispered, catching another tear as it fell. “You can’t go out there crying and give me away to Lia.”

“You’re right, you’re right” I said, finally standing up and drying my face. “I just really love them. Thank you.”

That whole night, it felt like we were sharing a secret. When I looked up and caught him smiling at me across the dancefloor, or when I squeezed his hand as he walked past. It almost felt like the start of something more.

But a week later, Andy had a new girlfriend—a girlfriend who wasn’t me—and that was the death of my fledgling hope.

Yet even so, a little part of me has always wondered why. Why bother with such a thoughtful gift, if it really meant nothing? After everything that’s happened between us in the last month, I’d kind of hoped I’d finally get an answer, but Andy’s still looking confused from across the table as he says, “I gave them to you the night of senior formal, remember?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, I remember. But I mean… they’re really nice,” I push. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he shrugs. “I wanted to.”

The server drops our check on the table and it pulls Andy’s attention away. I feel like I’m deflating, so disappointed in his non-answer. I’m certainly not going to ask him to put a label on our relationship now.

Just as Andy places his card in the check envelope, a voice calls from his left, “No way! Andy?”

We look up to find Owen approaching from across the room.

Andy’s eyes flash to me, slightly panicked. I offer my calmest smile and try to wordlessly communicate, This is fine. I like Owen, remember?

“Hey, man. What are the odds we would both be across the river tonight?”

“Hey, Owen,” he replies, trying not to visibly grimace.

And the surprises aren’t over.