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I remember the first time I met them. Ryder was first. It was during a meeting between our fathers, and our mothers went into a room to drink and chat while Ryder’s nanny kept an eye on us. We were supposed to be playing with toys, but Ryder refused to talk to me, staring out the window instead.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and went over to him.
“What’re you even looking at?” I asked, causing him to jump.
Then he glared at me. “What the heck are you doing, standing so close to me?”
I shrugged and stepped closer, because I was such a little shit back then. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I’m scary,” he told me. “Everyone thinks so.”
I eyed him over. “You don’t look scary to me. In fact, you’re the least scary thing I’ve seen in a long time.” I turned and walked back to the toy box. “You want to see scary? Go look at my grandma’s doll collection.”
“You’re afraid of dolls?” he asked.
“Yep.” I glanced at him. “What are you afraid of?”
He returned his attention back to the window. “Nothing. I stopped being afraid a long time ago because nothing matters in the end, so how can anything be scary?”
“You’re the weirdest boy I’ve ever met,” I informed him. “We have to be friends.”
He flicked a glance at me. “I don’t have friends.”
“But you want one—everyone does.”
He didn’t argue, and while it took a bit of work on my part, we eventually became friends.
I met Reece and Blaise one day while I was over at Ryder’s house. Reece was the easiest to make friends with because he was a lot like me—a smartass who liked to dance with getting into trouble. Blaise was a bit more complicated because he hardly spoke. I dragged words out of him eventually, and he talked to me more than anyone else. In fact, we’d tell each other secrets all the time.
Until we didn’t.
Because we stopped talking altogether.
Then I was alone except for Jessa.
And then fucking Levi found me.
After that, I started to understand what Ryder had said to me about fear all those years ago.
As my brain begins to ache from overthinking, I roll over to my side and try to sleep. My dress is so damn uncomfortable that it’s basically impossible, so I sit up and try to take it off, but I can’t reach the clasps and zipper on the back.
Grimacing, I get up and flip the light on. That’s when the full effect of seeing my new room hits me.
I thought my soul died three years ago—and maybe it did—but the damn thing is attempting to revive itself as I take in the shelves encompassing the purple and black walls, covered with rows of vinyl records.
I was perplexed over Ryder not having any records in his room, but now it makes sense. He put them in here—I know because I saw most of these in his collection. On top of that, Reece has put up framed photos and breathtaking artwork done by him, and Blaise’s musician and poetic talent is present in the form of the stack of books on my nightstand, including some of his favorite titles, and propped against the bench seat in the window is a guitar. Attached to it is a note written in his handwriting.
When we were fourteen,you once confessed to me that you wanted to learn how to play, but you were too worried you’d be terrible. I was going to teach you then, but then our time together was broken apart. Maybe in our reuniting, you’ll eventually trust me enough again to teach you.
Love,
Blaise
I pluckthe strings as I reread the note, particularly the love part.
I’ve never heard anyone tell me they loved me before. Well, except for once when Reece and I were stoned.
We were lying on a blanket in his backyard, staring up at the stars, when he suddenly confessed, “I think I love you.” He didn’t look at me when he said it.
