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“No. Actually. Yes. Well. Sort of. It’s about both.” I push past him into his bedroom.
He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at me in confusion. “Both what?”
But I don’t exactly answer him. “Did you know that all of our friends ship us?”
“Ship us? What the hell does that mean?” he asks, dropping onto his bed.
“Like relationship. As in, they want us to be together. Like a TV show where you root for two characters, especially ones who areobviouslysupposed to be together. Apparently, that’s us. Or so all of our friends think!” I practically yell, pacing back and forth across his room.
He squints at me and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something. Then he closes it. He does that a few times.
Finally, I settle myself down and stand in front of him.
“They really think that?” he asks, his emotions finally seeming to catch up to mine. Which means he’s starting to freak.
“That’s what I hear.” I sigh and drop onto his bed. “Are we… missing something?”
He turns to face me, and his eyes meet mine, taking a long inhale. He shakes his head and blows out a breath. “I think… they watched us grow up and have that puppy love thing. I think that’s a lot of what they see. We have a connection, and—”
“Yeah?” I ask, eyes wide.
“We do have apotentialto be something more.” He swallows hard.
I tuck my legs underneath me as I consider that. “I suppose that’s true. You did tell me you were going to marry me one day,” I say with a little smirk.
He rolls his eyes and gives a light laugh. “I did.”
“Did you mean it?” My voice is quiet and childlike.
“You already know the answer to that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and smirks.
“I know what you told me then.” But I can’t be playful about this. My mind is twisting… because I remember our conversation to this day.
You better mean it.
Oh, I do.
“Do you still mean it?” I ask. Because I need to understand where his head is at and if there is something I am—or we are—missing. “Do youshipus?” If he still wants to marry me, it would seem that he does.
He sighs big and turns to face me, sitting cross-legged, his knees touching mine.
“I—I don’t know. A part of me feels like the answer should be yes. Because I did mean it. And I still… do. But also, I can’t really see it now. We’ve grown up. We’re with other people. But that potential exists.”
He reaches down and gently intertwines our fingers.
I stare at him for a moment and then slowly nod. “That… makes sense. It seems like the right answer. And I guess it’s how I feel too. Whatever we have the potential to be doesn’t matter. What matters is who we are and where we are right now. We’re best friends. That’s all that matters.”
I breathe out slowly.
He lets out a long breath. “Thank God. This was getting way too serious for me.”
“Yeah, well, we do still have somethingseriousto talk about.” I poke my finger hard into his shoulder.
“Davey.”
“Ya think?”
He sighs. “I know. Last night was bad.”
