CHAPTER 18
SARIA
“ H ow does twenty-two feel?”
Jessi lies on my bed, feet raised in the air, bicycling them back and forth absentmindedly as she flips through my old fashion magazines.
“Like twenty-one,” I say with a laugh, pouring milk onto my cereal before plopping down on the couch.
“I bet twenty-two-year-old women don’t eat cereal,” she says with a lifted eyebrow.
“Oh hush,” I mutter through a mouthful of sugary goodness. “I think my older age makes me free to make whatever decisions I want.”
“Like leaving your best friend to fend for herself in med school?”
I smile. “Sorry.”
Even though she’s joking with that faux-pouty tone and stuck-out bottom lip, I know there’s a hint of truth to that. We’ve never been apart since elementary school. Once I hop off to van life, I have no clue how long I’ll be gone. I haven’t even planned an itinerary yet.
“I know, I know. The world is your oyster and all that,” Jessi says, tossing my magazine into the small stack she’s been accumulating next to her before picking up the next one.
We decided to spend the day together for my birthday since I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. Since I’ve been spending so much time with Harry, I’ve been unfairly neglecting my best friend. Although we might normally spend my birthday at a bar, we decided the classic ‘hang out in the living room and do nothing all day’ activity was more suited to our current lifestyles. Jessi is wrung out from studying for mid-terms, and I’m just happy to have a quiet day at the apartment. It seems like I rarely leave Harry’s shop lately, not that I mind. It’s starting to feel like a second home. Plus, my birthday ended up falling on a day where Harry was dropping off Cara at her mom’s. This way I can spend time with Jessi while also not missing out on any time with him or Cara. Win-win.
“I have sorta kinda bad news, though,” Jessi says.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Heather is planning a birthday party for you.”
I groan. I may like social media love—it’s safe behind a screen—but I hate being the center of attention at a party. Jessi knows this. Heather knows this. We all know this, but Heather is Heather and there’s no stopping that girl from party planning when she gets an idea in her head.
“I think Noah insisted on it,” she says. I groan again. I wonder for a moment if maybe it was his idea, but I don’t press it.
“Well, I’m sure Heather couldn’t resist,” I say with a small laugh.
Jessi pauses mid-page-turn and glances up at me. “I’m surprised.”
“What?”
“You didn’t ask whether it was Noah’s idea.”
I laugh. She knows me far too well. “I thought it. Does that count?”
“That’s like half an idea for you,” she says, lowering the magazine. “You always say what’s on your mind if you mean it enough.” She squints at me for a moment and then gasps. “Oh my god, are you finally getting over him?”
Sure, I don’t think about Noah nearly as often anymore. Most of my days are dominated by Harry. His laugh, his smile, his rock hard…well, you know.
“Maybe,” I admit.
Jessi hums a small tone of disbelief and then tilts her eyes back to the magazine. “That dicking from daddy of the year must really be doing it for you.”
I feel my face heat faster than I can manage to toss a tiny cereal ring at her. A few droplets of milk splash her cheek and she gasps. “Hey, I’m just saying!”
“He has a name.”
“I see that you’re not denying the dicking, though.”
I shovel a spoonful of cereal into my mouth, filling my cheeks hamster style so I’m incapable of answering.
Jessi grins. “Is that how you look when your mouth is full of?—”
I practically choke on my food as I squeal, taking a step over the back of the couch and tossing more soggy cereal at her. Jessi reaches into the bowl and starts tossing it too. This results in a symphony of squawks from Mercury until we both decide to settle down like children he’s chastising.
After the onslaught and being out of breath, I decide not to drink the leftover finger-infested milk and instead walk to the kitchen to toss it out.
Jessi wipes her face off with a hand towel. Her phone buzzes and she pulls it out to glance at the screen.
“There’s the text from Heather,” she says. “Party is this weekend.”
My phone vibrates from the couch and I see her name light up the screen.
“Are you gonna go?” Jessi asks.
I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Jessi waggles her eyebrows. “I figured you’d have plans with Daddy.”
My nose scrunches up at the same time my gut twists. “Ew, don’t call him that.”
“You seriously don’t ?” Jessi’s hand goes to her chest in mock offense.
“No, that’s weird,” I say. I’m a liar. I totally have. “Plus, I have a great relationship with my dad.”
“Girl, you don’t need daddy issues to find that shit hot,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “To answer your question: yes, I will be going to Heather’s party.”
Jessi tilts her head to the side, and her playful expression drops.
“So, does it mean anything?” she asks. “The hot auto shop sex?”
“It means…I don’t know what it means,” I say, which is the truth. I like Harry, but I can’t afford to have another person dictate my life. I’ve considered what it might mean for us if we went official, but then when would I go travel? Be independent?
“He’s good in bed though?” Jessi asks. I know she can sense my unease. It’s some best friend sixth sense, and I’m thankful she changes the subject.
“Hell yeah he’s good.”
And, for now, that’s all that matters.