for the vibes
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0qEWdbU8w4Oi2xaIQQBTeo?si=oZTVqZlMRaie8eCoviyQBw&pi=ewS_0dC7TS6Bq
Sparkle and Ice
Hi, guys! Welcome back to the Glitter and Rain Universe! This is book two of the Glitter and Rain series, but if you haven’t read Glitter and Rain, you can still read this, and it will make sense! You will probably just have a few more questions that you’ll get answered either as you go, or if they’re super pressing, by asking me, hehe. So, on to the more technical stuff, ChatGPT and AI were not used to write this book. AI is used by this author for the sole purpose of research and occasionally to name a character or town. IT IS NOT USED FOR GENERATING CREATIVE WORKS. Anyway, the all caps made it seem like I’m yelling lol, I promise I’m just trying to be clear😭 but anyway again, i’m so excited for this book! It will be releasing a little slower until I finish writing THOBH, then it will begin releasing weekly. If you have any comments or questions, feel free to DM me or drop a comment on one of my posts! And if you enjoy this book or any of my other works, follow my account and recommend it to a friend, and if you don’t like this book, no worries AT ALL, just please be kind and honest with any critique, thank you!
© 2026 Parker (@parkerwrites_xoxo). All rights reserved.
This book and its contents are the intellectual property of the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or posted online in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews or commentary.
Unauthorized copying, sharing, or reposting of this work is strictly prohibited.
౨ৎ Chloe Thameson ౨ৎ
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Miss Thameson,” I say with a smile, and the ten pairs of wide eyes looking up at me remain unchanged. Still, I plow ahead. “I’m very, very excited to learn from you all this year and have lots of fun together.”
Teaching a class of kindergarteners may not sound intimidating, but it’s actually terrifying, especially when this is many of their first impressions of a public school. Ever. This moment will stick with them forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but at least for the next couple weeks and definitely when they go home and tell their parents how their day went.
“School’s not fun!” one of the kids exclaims.
This was not a part of the prep. When Johnny and I were preparing for this, he told me that kids were still excited for school at this age—freaking liar.
“Aw, Ben, why would you say that?” I stall, scrounging my mind for a response.
Ben shoves a finger up his nose, maintaining fearless eye contact. I grip my clipboard, grimacing a little and praying it isn’t showing on my face.
“My big brother, his name is-is Monty, and he had a soccer practice, and he said that-he said that he had to go see his-his friend and then, um,” as he speaks, he twists his legs all around and pulls the velcro straps of his light-up tennis shoes off and on. “He said that school is not very, not very super like fun and like cool.”
I nod, holding the clipboard to my chest as I try to process all the words that just tumbled from his mouth. “Well,” I started, and the other kids looked as if they’d just been told they would never eat a bite of ice cream again, “That does make school sound very not fun, but Monty never got to be in a class with kids as cool as all of you. So, how about we play a little game to get to know each other?”
By the time all of my classes ended, I was about ready to pass out on the floor. When I was in high school, the last thing I thought I would do was become a teacher, but now that I’m here, it feels so… right. I feel like I’ve finally found the thing I was made for. And this school year is my first getting to teach all my classes alone.
And at this school, on top of that. It’s been my dream to work here. It’s a school for underprivileged yet advanced students who can’t afford fancier schools for their kids. So, with donations and sponsors, this school can provide high-level education at a lower cost for kids who need financial aid.
Seeing the look on all the little ones’ faces when they learn something new is satisfaction all in itself. It’s satisfying enough that I can swallow overlooking the small number on my paycheck. I admit, sometimes I wonder if it would be smarter to find a job that pays me enough that I don’t have to have three roommates.
Yep. You heard me right. Three.
For a while, Kat had been one of them, but not anymore. She’s been travelling the country, helping out at fashion shows, and even getting to display some of her recent pieces.
It was a little lonely there for a while. Isla was married and living her happy ever after at college with Sam. Kat was living her dream. Julian and I broke up very quickly after high school, due to um… well, obvious reasons. Those same reasons ended up costing me my best friend. But that was all in the past now. Davy, high school drama, the loneliness, all of it was buried.
Now, I’m living my happily ever after. Well, almost.
Everything except for my prince is in place. Johnny and I have a few weeks before we slip the ring on each other's fingers and say “I do,” but it’s a sure thing. He’s a sure thing. I’ve never had someone like him before. He’s older than me by five years, so he has his stuff figured out. He’s the smartest guy I know, and he’s perfectly opposite to me in all the right ways. Where I’m too much of a dreamer, he’s the logic. Where I’m frazzled and stressed, he’s steady and slow. He’s like an anchor, keeping me sane while I navigate my life.
I breathe in deeply as I slip into my buggie and turn the key in the ignition. The engine sputters and whines, but after a little cajoling and lots of desperate praying, it turns over.
“Thank you,” I breathe, glancing over as my little screen turns on. Except, as soon as it comes to life, Siena Spiro begins blaring through the speakers. I shriek, jumping up and bashing my head on the low ceiling. “Ouch,” I whisper, clutching the top of my head and smushing my curls by accident.
I reach for the screen, pausing the song before it can get to the highest and loudest part. It’s a great song, really, but the volume is a little intense, and considering my volume knob is broken, there's not much I can do about that. Johnny’s not really good with cars. Hand him a computer, and he’ll fix it up in five minutes, but a car? No, not really his speed.
But it’s fine, really. Most of the time, I like my music at max volume anyway. I close my eyes, tilting my head back until it hits the headrest softly. “I can do this. Today went well. Tomorrow, I’ll–” I’m cut off by the sharp shrill of a phone ringing through her speakers.
Another shriek flies off my lips, but thankfully, I don’t hit my head this time. My chest rises and falls heavily as I click the green button on my screen.
“Johnny, you scared the living daylights out of me,” I exhale with a small laugh.
He laughs gently, but it fades fast. “Hey, honey, look, I’m going to be late to dinner tonight,” Johnny says from the other end of the phone, his voice scratchy and oddly far-off.
I sigh, but spread a smile across my face before I can let the disappointment sink in. “Okay, yeah, um, that’ll still work. I gotta fill up the car anyway,” I answer softly. “How was your day?”
He didn’t answer at first. “Oh, we can talk about all that tonight. I’m a little tied up at work right now. I just wanted to let you know I’d be late, so you wouldn’t worry,” he says, and I smile. He’s so thoughtful.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I say. “But you’re still coming right?”
Laely, we’ve both been so busy, we’ve barely even been able to see each other. We just keep missing each other. “Yeah, I’m still coming,” he assures me gently.
“Yay,” I exclaim, mustering as much excitement as possible. It’s not that I’m not excited, I’m just tired. “I can’t wait.”
Another beat of silence. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon, babe, bye.”
“Okay, bye, I love…” I start, but when I look back at the screen, he’s already hung up.
Shifting the car into drive, I press down on the gas. Except, the little D lighting up on my gear shifter is actually an R. A loud tumbling sound like boxes falling on my car hits the air.
No, no, no, no. I shove the car in park and stumble out of my seat. In horror, I watch the scene before me unravel.
Behind me, Principal Stogey was sitting in her car innocently before I nearly killed her. Now, she’s looking up at me with much of the same shock that I’m feeling. I let my hands drop from my open mouth and rush to her door to help her out.
“Principal Stogey, I’m so, so sorry,” I exclaim in a rush, and she reluctantly takes my hand as she steps out of her brand-new car.
“Kids are always driving with their heads in the clouds,” she mutters, crossing her feeble arms over her purple knit sweater.
I nod, not really knowing how else to react to her broken headlights and the big dent in the center of her car’s nose. “Lollipop?” I ask because the only thing I have to offer is the leftover lollipop in my pocket. I have no extra money to pay for this kind of thing, and I’m pretty sure my insurance sucks.
She eyes me, her small brown eyes dull with annoyance. Still, she snatches the pink lollipop from my hands. We sit in silence, the only sounds being the soft beeping on her car’s dashboard screen and the crinkling of the lollipop wrapper.
“Well, Miss Thameson,” she starts, holding the lollipop in the side of her cheek as she turns to me, “Unless this lollipop has some sort of magical properties that I’m unaware of that’ll pay for the damages, I suggest we exchange information.”
I nod fervently, scrambling to my car. What was I thinking, hitting her car like that? Panicked tears begin to well in my eyes, and I shake them off, forcing a smile on my face. I’ve always stuck by the saying that if you tell your brain you’re actually happy, then it’ll eventually believe it.
“I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m happy,” I whisper to myself as I dig through my glove compartment in the hopes of finding at least a scrap of paper and a pen.
────୨ৎ────
My shoes clack against the hardwood of the restaurant, and I tuck a wild curl away from my face anxiously. After the accident, having to change in the car and nearly getting into a second accident on the highway, I didn’t have time to do my makeup or my hair like I had planned.
I probably still have mascara smudged under my eyes, for goodness sake. My eyes wander all over the restaurant desperately. My one comfort is knowing that I’ll be able to spend the rest of my night with Johnny.
Finally, I catch him giving me a slight wave from the corner of the restaurant. I breathe a small sigh of relief, and my lips curve into a smile.
When I reach him, I lean down, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting across from him at the small circular table.
“You would not believe the day I just had,” I sigh, tucking the edges of the black cloth napkin around my legs and smoothing it down over my lap.
He gives me a sympathetic smile, but it’s lacking something. His countenance is drawn, and his light eyes are on the empty plate in front of him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, reaching out to stroke his hand softly.
“No, it’s nothing, it’s just,” he looks up at me and shakes his head. “No, no, go on. What happened?”
“Come on, tell me,” I urge, using every last bit of energy to smile at him.
Letting out a big sigh, he looks back down at the cloth in his lap. “I’ve been offered a promotion.”
My eyebrows dance up, and I clap my hands together. “Johnny! That’s amazing! Oh my gosh, I’m so proud of you. You should’ve said something sooner.”
His lips twitch to an almost-smile, but it doesn’t go through. “It is, I mean it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, but there’s a drawback,” he says softly, and now he’s the one reaching out to hold my hand.
“Well, whatever it is, we can figure it out,” I encourage him quickly.
He looks at me like he’s analyzing me, memorizing my face in this moment, almost. “Chloe, it’s big.”
“Come on, tell me. I’m on the edge of my seat over here,” I tease softly, but the look on his face really is worrying me a little.
“They want me to help open an office,” he breaks off, sucking in a big breath. “In Canada.” The words hang in the air like a knife about to drop on my head.
I swallow, working to keep my mouth in a smile. “Well, that’s okay. I mean, you’re just going over to help them get on their feet for what? A few weeks? A month, maybe. I mean, you’ll still be back in time to…” I trail off when I notice that he’s just shaking his head.
“I would have to–” he glances up at me as if to gauge my expression, “Well, I would have to move there.” The knife drops, digging into my skull slowly.
“Wow,” I exhale, falling back in my seat and holding my arms over my stomach. “Permanently?”
He nods, reaching out to me again. “But it wouldn’t be so bad,” he says quickly. “There are plenty of schools there that you could teach at, and there are lots of house options we could buy, especially with this new paycheck.” He doesn’t sound like himself. His words are tumbling out in a rush. “We can still do everything like we planned.”
I don’t say anything. I want to reassure him that I agree, and that, of course, everything will go to plan because I love him, but I can’t lie to him. I mean, I do love him, but this is a whole new life we’re talking about.
“But,” I breathe, “my life–my whole life is here. My friends are here. My job–I love my job. And I thought you loved this town,” I remind him, my eyebrows furrowing as I look up at him softly. “We’ve always said this town was practically made for us. Just last week, you said something about how you loved that playground across the street and that it’d be great for our future kids. I mean,” I sigh desperately. “Come on, baby, I’m trying to understand here, but this just doesn’t make sense.”
He shifts in his seat, holding my hand a little tighter. “Look, I know this is sudden, and I know it’ll take a little time to adjust, but–”
“Wait, what do you mean?” I ask, confusion spreading over my chest like a disease. “What–You didn’t tell them yes, did you?”
His face flushes, and he reaches back to scratch his neck. “I knew I would have to talk to you first, but I thought you’d be a little… I don’t know, happier for me, to be honest.”
“Of course I’m happy for you,” I say, guilt wrinkling my forehead as I hold his hand with both of mine. “I’m so, so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard, I know, but…” I swallow, squeezing his hand. “But we have our life already mapped out here. We have the house all teed up, and I just started my school year, and the wedding is here, and…”
“I know, I know,” he says, pulling his hand away softly to hold his brow. “It’s just, this is–this is the only way I’m moving up at this place.” His face softens slightly. “Come on, you’re the one who’s all about spontaneity.”
I shake my head with an incredulous laugh. “Honey, spontaneity is getting ice cream at midnight because you feel like it or going on a road trip over the weekend without a plan. It isn’t moving to a different country.”
His smile falls slowly, and he refolds his napkin in his lap. “So, you want me to turn it down?”
My shoulders drop. “I don’t want you to, but I just don’t see a way that we can go together.”
“What? So, you’re giving me an ultimatum?” he asks, his eyebrows high and his voice panicked.
“Whoa, that is not what I’m doing right now. All I’m saying is–”
“You’re saying if I take this job, then you won’t come with me,” he finishes like he’s in complete shock.
I hold my face in my hands, forcing two deep breaths in and out of my mouth. This day has been too long to have this conversation with him right now.
“No, what I’m saying is it’s just not possible. I can’t quit now, especially not now that I just hit my boss’s car, and I definitely can’t bail on the kids. I gave their parents my word, and–”
“Like you gave me your word?” He shakes his head, not looking up from his napkin. “Maybe it’s a good thing we postponed the wedding last month.”
I scoff, falling back in my seat. “I love you, so I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just tell me that you’re glad we’re not married.”
He sighs, reaching out to me again. “No, no, wait,” he sighs, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I keep saying all the wrong things. It’s just…” he trails off, looking up at me with eyes full of conviction. “I already said yes.”
────୨ৎ────
Thunder crackles over my head, and I almost wish it would start raining already. At least then the perpetual anticipation would end, and it might make me feel like less of a baby if I could tell myself all the tears rushing down my face were just raindrops.
My first adult breakup.
I mean, I had lots of drama in high school, sure, but when I met Johnny, I knew. I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with any of that anymore. It was a new chapter. He was my new chapter. I fell for him so hard that I actually let myself think that he was the rest of the book, too, but now I’m walking on the side of the road wishing I could rip out every page he’s on.
The sole of my foot slams against the concrete, and I stumble to the ground. My knees scrape against the sidewalk, and I groan. Of course, my heel would break right now. I never had time to gas my car up, and halfway back to my house, I ran out of gas. I tried calling my roommates, and none of them answered. I tried Marilla first because she’s most likely to be at the house, probably studying or cleaning. Except she wasn’t, because she didn’t pick up. So, I tried Danyi next, because while she definitely wasn’t at home, at least she might be at a party somewhere nearby, except she also didn’t answer.
My last hope was Piper, but I knew she wouldn’t answer, because she gets on these writing kicks where she writes for hours on end with her earbuds in, blaring this dramatic piano playlist. And like I predicted, she didn’t answer.
I knew I’d hit a low point when I contemplated calling Johnny, who’s the reason for all of this.
Something wet drips on my face, and that’s when the rain decides to grant my wish. “Why?” I cry to no one in particular, throwing my hands up and looking straight up at the rain pouring down on me.
I wipe my hair away from my face and close my eyes hard, even though there are still tears pouring down my cheeks. This has got to be the most pitiful day I’ve had in a while. I force myself to my feet and pull off my high heels. Pitiful or not, I have to get to the nearest gas station and get gas for my car, or I’m not making it home tonight.
“Oh my word, Chloe?” someone calls from behind me, and I whirl around. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Isla?” I cry, and all hopes are confirmed as her blurry figure draws closer and her soaking wet blonde hair comes into view.
“Are you okay?” she asks again, but I just walk towards her with open arms.
She doesn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, and it makes my heart ache the way she still smells like our hometown. “Love is awful,” I whimper, squeezing her tight before pulling back, and she pulls back slightly.
“I never expected to hear those words come from our hopeless romantic,” she says softly, holding my face in her hands. “Oh, sweetheart, come with us. We’ll take you home.”
“We?” I ask, and that’s when I notice Sam standing behind her in the rain.
He pulls a hand out of his pocket to give me a little wave. “Hey, Chloe,” he calls with a small smile.
I try my best to return the movement, but my lips just kind of weakly move to the sides. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Am I ruining a date right now or… hold on. Why are you here? What are you… You don’t live here,” I mutter, and she shakes her head with a laugh.
“Come on, hon, let’s get you out of the rain,” she urges, guiding me towards a black… jeep?
“Hey, I thought you guys had a super little car that didn’t have a back seat,” I murmur, but the rain drowns out my voice.
The three of us jog to the car, and Sam pulls open both my and Isla’s doors. His black curly hair is in dripping ringlets, practically covering his eyes as he jogs around the front of the car. The second I pull my door closed, silence envelopes me. I didn’t realize how loud the rain was.
Gosh, I’m exhausted. I also hadn’t realized I was exhausted, but now that I’m spread out across the backseat, I feel like I’m about to pass out.
“Do we wanna talk about it yet?” Isla asks gently from the passenger’s seat.
I let out a big sigh, but I smile at her (even though she can’t see me in the dark). “You first. I may look like a homeless psychopath because you caught me wandering the city barefoot and alone, but that doesn’t mean I’m dense. So,” I say, dragging out the oh sound. “Unless you and Sam spontaneously moved out of Rhode Island to come live here with me, then you’re here for a reason, and I intend to find out that reason before I–”
“Chloe,” Isla says, around a laugh that skilfully hides the worry beneath it. “You’re spiraling, babe. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod, waving my hands in front of my face. “Okay, fine, yeah, I am spiraling, but seriously, you first.”
“Well, we’re on our way to my parents' place, but we wanted to stop by here to see you first,” she explains, twisting around from the front seat so she can look at me. “First, we stopped by your house, but then you weren’t home, obviously. So then we tracked your phone, and boom, we found you. Your turn.”
I sit up a little straighter and lean forward. “Nuh uh. No way you two just came and stopped by. I just saw you a couple weeks ago at Kat’s show, so dish, why are you really here?”
It’s actually very, very nice to focus on something other than my crappy, crappy day, and it’s even nicer because I’m focusing on one of the few people who brings me that childlike kinda comfort. You know what I mean, right? The kind of comfort that you feel super deep in your bones, like they’re engraved in your system, and their presence just kind of soothes you. Ugh, I’m definitely not making sense, but it’s not something you can really explain; it’s just something you really, really feel.
She shares a look with Sam, and she’s smiling so big I sit up even straighter, looking between the two. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re getting married? Shoot, you’re already married. You’re moving here? You-you’re um, you won the lottery?” She just waits. I snap my fingers. “Wait! I got it! You’re getting a dog! No? Okay, I’m um, running out of guesses here, help me out,” I say frantically, anticipation building in my stomach as she just grins at me.
“Okay, this is so not how we wanted to tell you,” she says with a sigh, wiping a hand over her smiling face before bending over and reaching for something at her feet.
I laugh nervously. “Okay, I’m starting to get a little weirded out.”
“Just trust,” Sam says, a big smile on his face, too. He keeps glancing between Isla, the road, and the rearview mirror to gauge my expression.
I wiggle my eyebrows at Isla as she hands me a pink envelope with glitter all over the cover. “Aw, you did not have to write me a check giving me all the money you won in the lottery just because I’m your guys’ favorite. I mean, really, I’m flattered, but…” I tease, yet my hands are shaking as I rip open the envelope.
“Did you break something? Why are you giving me an X-ray? What kind of bone is thi–” I scream, full on, top of my lungs, full of shock and every loud emotion kind of scream. Sam’s already pulled into some little parking lot, which is good because I’m already crawling into the front seat to give Isla the biggest hug of my life. “Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant,” I breathe, tears streaming down my face for a completely and wholly wonderful reason.
Isla’s chest shakes as she laughs, pulling me even tighter against her. “And Sam’s the dad, right?” I ask, not even realizing what I’m asking, but just needing to speak so I don’t cry even harder.
“Yes, I’m the dad,” Sam interjects with a scoff, and the words sound entirely foreign on his lips. Sam and Isla. Parents. At twenty-three.
“Oh my word, this is so crazy,” I exclaim, falling back into my seat. “I mean, when did you find out?”
“A couple months ago,” Sam answers, holding Isla’s hand over the center console and giving her the look. I mean, he's looking at her like she holds all the constellations in her eyes, like she’s his muse and he’s memorizing the picture of her for his next painting.
Now, painful tears start to flood my eyes, and I shame myself for it. “I’m so, so happy for you guys,” I say honestly, and my voice cracks.
“Oh, Chloe,” Isla says, reaching back to hold my hand. “What’s wrong?”
────୨ৎ────
That’s how I ended up spilling everything to both of them in an awful mess, holding the picture of their future baby to my heart, because that news is the only happy thing in my life right now.
Now, Sam’s handing me tissues while Isla’s holding me tight. “He’s a jerk,” she scoffs, stroking my hair softly.
“Seriously,” Sam grunts. “What kinda guy just up and takes a promotion without asking his fiancée?”
“But that’s the thing,” I start, sniffling. “He’s not that kind of guy. He would be sitting here with us making fun of those kind of guys if he wasn’t that kind of guy… if that makes sense.”
Sam looks a little lost, but Isla nods. “Yes, yes, it makes sense.”
“Before this, everything was perfect. I mean, yeah, we’d been a little distant lately, but I didn’t think that meant we’d break up,” I say, holding my hands out in confusion.
Sam stretches his mouth in a wince. “Distant, huh?”
“What is that like a bad thing?” I ask, sitting up a little and looking at him through puffy eyes.
“Well,” he starts, stretching out the vowel. “It’s not an adjective I’d use to describe a healthy relationship. It means he’s probably been thinking about this for a while.”
“About what?” I ask, horror rippling through my voice.
“A way out,” he says with a disappointed sigh.
Isla reaches out and smacks his shoulder hard, and he recoils his arm. Something like regret and fear crosses his eyes as she shoos him out of the room. “Not helpful right now. Not even a little, Gibs,” she says, smacking him as he holds up his hands innocently.
“Fine, fine, leaving,” he says, slipping out of the room quietly.
“Don’t listen to him,” Isla says carefully, her big blue eyes softening as she looks at me. “He can’t help it.”
I shake my head. “No, no, he’s right. We’ve been drifting apart for a while. I think I just didn’t wanna see it.”
“Well, yeah, when there’s a ring involved, it’s hard to see anything else,” she whispers, and I look up at the ceiling.
This can’t be happening.
౨ৎ Chloe ౨ৎ
“Hey, I’ll pick you up around three,” Isla promises from the couch.
“What time will you guys be at the party?” Sam asks from the kitchen, flipping an egg casually.
Isla hums thoughtfully. “Probably around like six-ish. We’ll still make it back here in time for the three of us to start our road trip home.”
“I feel so bad that you guys have to Uber me around,” I groan, wiping a hand over my face in embarrassment. Apparently, my car didn’t just run out of gas last week; it broke. Like broke down. Something with the engine or the brakes or, honestly, I have no idea. Thankfully, Sam’s some fancy engineer now and knows enough about cars that he was able to start working on it until I could save enough to get an appointment. For now, however, my options are either to take the bus around Burberry, walk, or mooch off my friends.
I reluctantly chose option three.
“Please, don’t apologize,” Isla says, looking over her shoulder to smile at me. “It’s fun getting to see more of where you live.”
“She’s lying,” Sam scoffs. “She’s just happy because she’s been begging me to drive the new car, but I wouldn’t let her.”
“Why?” I ask, scrunching my nose in confusion.
His face flushes slightly, and he shrugs. “Well, she’s pregnant.”
Isla sighs, shaking her head. “I’ve been trying to explain to him that just because I’m pregnant, doesn’t mean I can’t drive.” She gives him a pointed glare, but it doesn’t even hold the hint of real frustration.
“Please, I’m not falling for that,” he sighs like he truly believes she’s trying to fool him. “Everyone knows pregnant people aren’t supposed to work, or it's bad for them and the baby.”
“So, how come you’re letting her drive me around today?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in amusement.
He switches off the burner and begins crossing the distance between him and Lala, plate of eggs in hand. “Well, I’m not exactly a fan of it, but at the end of the day, she’s the boss,” he says, stepping behind the couch and placing the plate in her lap. He leans down and kisses her neck gently.
She smiles, reaching back to hug his neck briefly. I smile at them fondly. Then the stinging hits my veins, and I look away, swiping my keys off the counter.
“You guys are adorable,” I say with a laugh. “I’ll be in the car whenever you’re ready, Lala.”
I slip out of the door quietly while the two of them continue in low conversation, Sam bent over the back of the couch, whispering in her ear while she giggles. The hopeless romantic in me should be swooning over them, but the shards of my broken heart have pierced that part of me. I’m bleeding out, and when you’re bleeding out, the only thing you can do is put pressure on the wound and keep pressing on. That doesn’t leave much time for dreaming and swooning and hoping for something as hopeless as true love.
────୨ৎ────
I plaster a big smile on my face as I face my last class of the day. “Good afternoon, everyone. How was your weekend?” I ask, and as expected, Ben is the first to shoot his hand up in the air. “Yes, Ben, please share with us.”
“I lost my pet frog,” he says simply, his big eyes staring right into my soul.
I nod, leaning back on my desk. “It’s hard to lose things you love, isn’t it?” I start, shaking my head.
“Yeah, my frog he um, he jumped into the potty when it flushed,” he says, leaning his head on his arm and kicking the legs of his seat over and over.
I’m not really sure how a frog would jump into a toilet or why it would be in the bathroom to begin with, but his sentiment strikes a nerve.
“Yep, sometimes the things you love just jump right out of your life, and you can’t do anything about it,” I say, shaking my head with a painful chuckle. “One day they’re there and the next they're gone, and you’re just alone, and–” I stop myself when I realize that the kids are all looking at me like I’m crazy. Bringing my baggage to work on the second week? Not my finest moment, here.
“Okay, um, today we’re going to talk about something called multiplication,” I start towards the whiteboard.
After a few minutes, I was able to slip into a rhythm quickly. The kids were scribbling down the answers, and only a few ended up needing help on our last, most challenging problem. “Alright, very good job, everyone,” I announce, a big smile on my face. “Does anyone have any ques–”
“The bell rang already,” Ben announces, and I startle, looking up at the clock. I’ve already kept them four minutes late.
“Yes, of course, um, again, if you have any questions, just come up and ask after class, okay? Class dismissed,” I say, and the bustle of little hands packing up notebooks and pom pom pens fills the room.
Ben practically flees the room, and I sigh. Today has definitely been the best class so far, but he’s been causing trouble like it’s his five-year-old career goal. He also keeps challenging me in front of all the other kids. Yes, at the end, I may have needed a helpful reminder, but still. So what if I got a little caught up teaching?
Lately, my job has been my only place of distraction. I’m just very, very grateful Lala and Sam decided to extend their stay here a little longer. I’ve gotten used to having my best friends back, and now that they’re leaving in a few days, the dread has really started to cling to my bones. Soon, it’ll just be me in my bedroom having to face every feeling I’ve been suppressing for the past few weeks.
I start packing up my books, slipping them into my tote bag with a sigh. I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy. I smile wide, repeating the mantra to myself over and over as I stand.
“I’m happy. I’m…” When I look around at the empty classroom, my shoulders sag. “That’s it,” I exhale, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I’m actually going crazy…”
I close my eyes briefly as I walk down the empty hall and take two deep breaths. I can do this. I’m twenty-three. I’m a grownup. I can handle a breakup on my own.
I push through the double door exit, and just as my foot hits the concrete, my phone begins to ring in my pocket. I shuffle to a stop, tumbling my bag off my shoulder. When I finally dig in my pocket and retrieve my phone, it’s probably on its last ring. I hold it to my ear. “Hey, Lala, what’s up?”
“Hey, it’s Sam, actually,” Sam says, kind of shouting a little. “Um, I wanted to call and tell you that Lala actually couldn’t make it.”
“Sam,” I start with a small laugh. “If this is about the driving thing, you can look it up. It’s perfectly sa–”
“No, no,” he interrupts, “She’s throwing up like crazy. She can’t make it out there. She already tried to leave once and ended up throwing up on the door, which was a whole mess, and…” his voice cuts out. Then, his voice crackles through the phone a little far-off and much quieter, “Shh, baby, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He must’ve pulled the phone closer again, because his voice is clear again as he says, “I’m freaking out. Is she okay? I mean, is this-is this normal? Should I drive her to a hospital?”
“Hey, look, she’s fine,” I assure him, and the sound of her retching from the other side of the phone reaches my ears. “Nausea is totally normal, especially at two months. When my mom was pregnant with May-may, she puked probably three times a day for a little while.”
“Three times a day? This is going to happen three times a day?” he cries, and distress is thick in his voice.
“Oh, wait, that’s not what I was trying to say, I just meant–”
“Hey,” Isla says weakly. “So sorry I can’t make it, but I sent Sam’s brother to come get you.”
I nod, my heart aching for how little her voice sounds. Isla’s always hated throwing up. When we were in middle school, she actually had this weird phobia of it, and any time she got sick, she would get so afraid of throwing up that she’d actually bring on the nausea just by thinking about it so much.
“That’s totally fine,” I answer softly, but as she gives me a quick reply, her words start to sink in. “Wait, did you say Davy was picking me up?” No answer. “Guys, who’s picking me up?” No answer again. I hold my screen out just to see that they’ve already hung up.
I heard wrong. I had to have heard wrong. Isla wouldn’t send Davy to come get me, not after knowing what happened. Except… she doesn’t know what happened, because I didn’t tell anyone–not Lala, not Kat, not my family, not even my diary.
I was so embarrassed and hurt that I couldn’t. I didn’t want any trace of it anywhere in my life. It was bad enough that it was forever burned into my memory, but I made sure it was never spoken, never breathed, and I tried my hardest not to remember.
My eyes catch on the black jeep rolling in the parking lot. It’s not him. I know it’s not. He doesn’t drive like that.
At least not the last time I was with him. We were practically fleeing Lorelai Richmond’s “Farewell Party.” It was awful. We showed up, and there was almost no room to even walk.
“I thought you said this would be small,” Davy murmurs in my ear as I guide the two of us through the thick crowd.
I grin, looking over my shoulder to look right in his dark eyes. “I said there would only be a few friends, not that it would be small. You and I are probably the only friends in here. Most of these people don’t even speak to each other, anyway.”
He scoffs, his eyes skipping across the loud room. “You totally tricked me, didn’t you?”
Pulling his hand a little harder as we make it through the dense clump of people in the middle of the living room, I turn my body around so I can face him. “I wouldn’t dream of tricking you, Jack,” I tease, reaching for the nearest red solo cup and pouring whatever pink liquid was next to it into it quickly.
He rolls his eyes, failing to hide his grin. “Enough with the Jack Frost thing,” he groans.
I cock an eyebrow, bringing the cup to my lips. “Why would I do that? You’re the one who said he was your hero,” I sing, drawing out the vowels.
He catches the cup before it meets my lips and pulls it away slowly. “I never said that. I said he used to be my hero. Big difference.”
I tug the cup back towards me playfully. “Same difference, actually.”
This time, when I try to bring the cup to my lips, he bypasses the cup and holds my chin, tilting my head up slightly and taking the cup from my hands softly. “Agree to disagree.”
“Mmm,” I hum. “And can we agree to disagree about the drink you’re currently stealing from me?”
He shakes his head, an adorable little smile on his lips. “Nope,” he says. “Lorelai’s brother is a dick. He spikes the punch at every event he goes to.” His hand drops from my chin, falling back to his sides as he inhales deeply.
“Oh, wow,” I say, feigning awe as I crane my neck to look up at him. “So, you’re my loyal protector then, huh? Like my bodyguard?”
His shoulders shake with a laugh. “Yeah, don’t push it,” he murmurs.
“Okay, big question,” I start dramatically, moving my hands about as I speak. “Are you actually going to be Sammy’s best man? Like suit and tie, big responsibility, emotional speech where you start crying and convulsing out of pure brotherly affection?”
He scrunches his freckled nose. “Oh my gosh, how did you manage to make something so normal sound so disgusting?”
I shrug, flipping my hair over my shoulder proudly. “Well, it’s a talent, baby.”
Leaning back against the wall behind him, he says, “Not something to be proud of, but to answer your question, yeah, I think I will if he asks me.”
“What do you mean if?” I ask, smacking his arm lightly. “Davy, you’re his brother. Of course it’ll be you.”
He shrugs. “Nah, I don’t… I don’t know, Chlo. I mean, he has Mic and the other guys, and they’ve known him forever. I’m just the screwup who was here for the beginning and the end, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” I answer firmly. “You’re not a screwup, and the middle is always the boring part, anyway. You stayed when it counted.” His face softens slightly, but he closes his eyes as he angles his head back against the wall. “And besides,” I start, settling beside him against the wall, “If you’re not his best man, then you can be mine.”
He snorts. “Brides don’t have best men, dummy.”
“I will,” I retort with a laugh. “There’s no way you’re not gonna be in my wedding.”
“Yeah, the future Mr. Thameson will love that,” he murmurs, and I know he’s joking, but something in my twists. I don’t like to think about the times when we may not be in each other’s lives anymore.
“Oh my word! Chloe Thameosn? I did not expect you to show up,” Lorelai exclaims, and I practically jump.
“Lor, hey, you scared me, sorry. How are you?”
The two of us fall into easy conversation, and at some point, Davy slips away to grab something or another. Lorelai’s telling me something about her latest canvas when the sound of laughter reaches my ears. My eyes drift across the room until they land on a short blonde with a killer dress chatting up Davy.
His eyes meet mine, and I give him a cheesy thumbs up despite the stomach ache churning in my gut. It must be all the junk food and random soda concoctions I’ve been downing at the last three party stops we’ve made.
He flashes his eyes, and then he gives me the signal. He reaches his hand back to scratch the back of his neck just like we practiced. After both of us, being single and hot, kept getting approached at parties, we came up with a signal when one of us is really not into the person talking to us. I touch a hand to Lorelai’s arm.
“I’ll be back in just a sec, babe,” I assure her with a smile before slipping through the crowd. “Oh, excuse me, sorry,” I mumble as someone’s elbow flies against my ribcage. “Sorry again!” I repeat when my hand bumps against some random guy’s butt.
By the time I make it to the pair, I’m struck with a spark of inspiration. If I’m going to save Davy, I should make it interesting, shouldn’t I?
“Baby doll, where have you been? I’ve been pos-it-tive-ly parched,” I cry in my best Dolly Parton accent. “I tried tracking you down using our um, our call. You know the one…” I trail off, and I nearly burst out laughing at the confusion and amusement swirling in his eyes. “The call? Don’t make me do it, baby. I know you remember!”
The girl looks between the two of us in confusion, and I clear my throat. “One second, darlin,” I manage, before letting out the worst pig call I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Davy actually snorts out a laugh, failing to cover it with his hands. “Now you remember, don’t you, baby?” I ask, sliding my hands around his ribs and pulling him in a tight hug. “Oh my goodness gracious, I’m bein’ so impolite! I’m,” I break off, realizing the gaping hole in my plan. I don’t have a fake name.
“Loretta…” Davy finishes for me, draping an awkward arm around my back. “My girlfriend.”
“Loretta Sparkle,” I finish, holding out my hand. “Family name.”
She shakes her head with a polite chuckle. “Right, great to meet you. I should cut out. I have a friend waiting for me, so um…” she practically runs away from us, and the second she’s out of earshot, Davy bursts out laughing. Full on belly laugh, bent over clutching his stomach kind of laugh, and I’m not much better.
By the time we’re able to collect ourselves, there are tears streaming down my face. “That was the best you could think of? Seriously?” he cries, shaking his head in astonishment.
“What? You didn’t like Loretta?” I ask, feigning offense as I hold a hand to my heart. “To think, she had a whole pig call signal made just for you, and now you’re going to dump her with zero warning.”
“Whatever that was, was not a pig call!” he exclaims, his eyes adorably wide, and his mouth hanging agape. “It sounded like some sort of screech.”
Another laugh spills off my lips, and his smile spreads so wide I want to take a picture to remember this. Our last night of high school freedom. Our last night of high school before summer comes, and college starts looming over us. His glance reaches over my shoulder before he pulls me by my belt loops, spinning me around so I’m against the wall. My breath hitches, and my hands fall against his chest.
He swallows. “Sorry, um, someone was about to run you over.”
“Oh,” I manage on a thin exhale. “My hero again, then, huh?”
His eyes drop to mine, and I smile softly, bringing my hands to his face hesitantly. “Hey, you finally did it,” I exclaim, running my fingers over the smooth skin. “You got rid of the stubble.”
He doesn’t move, his eyes warming as they focus on my face. “Well, you wouldn’t stop bugging me about it,” he says softly, his smile flickering.
“It was for your own good,” I remind him, and then I find my hands wandering across his neck, my fingers weaving through his hair. “So, really, you should be saying thank you.”
He raises an eyebrow, and his hands reach my hips, tugging me against him. “Yeah?” he breathes, and my heart thuds in my chest, pumping blood faster and faster throughout my veins. The air between us is crackling with something that’s been building for longer than I realized. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s as if something’s drawing me closer and closer to him.
I shake my head. No. No more Davy memories. The rest of the story is simple. Skip to the end of the party, we were…bored, and we split to find our own party somewhere else. He nearly crashed the car like seven times, and left tire marks somewhere in every neighborhood.
The point is, he’s not the kind to roll into the parking lot, so whoever’s picking me up is not Davy. The thought helps me relax a little as the jeep slows to a halt in front of me. The driver’s door flings open, and slams closed, and I swallow hard as the driver begins to come into view.
There’s no possible way it’s–
“Davy?” I exhale.