Rose’s POV
I answered Sierra’s video call just as I flopped onto my bed.
Her face immediately filled the screen.
"...and then she actually wore white to someone else’s wedding." She threw both hands into the air. "White, Rose! To someone else’s wedding! The audacity."
"Hm."
"And don’t even get me started on what happened after that."
"Yeah."
"I swear, people lose all common sense the moment they turn twenty."
I nodded absentmindedly.
"...Rose."
"Hm?"
"No, seriously."
"Hm."
Sierra snapped her fingers in front of the camera.
Nothing.
She leaned in closer.
"Rose."
Still nothing.
"...ROSE!"
I nearly launched my phone across the room.
"Jeez!" I rubbed my ear with a glare. "I actually like having eardrums, thank you very much."
She burst into laughter.
"Oh good. You’re still alive."
"The fuck do you mean by that?" I groaned, still rubbing my ear.
"Of course I’m alive."
"Physically, maybe."
I rolled my eyes.
"Don’t your parents get tired of you randomly screaming like that?"
She shrugged.
"They’re used to it."
"Not surprised in the slightest."
"I knew you weren’t listening."
"I was."
"Oh, really?"
"I mean... mostly."
"Liar."
She narrowed her eyes at me through the screen.
"Girl... start talking."
"What?"
"You’ve been weird all morning."
"I have not."
"You answered my ’good morning’ with ’good night.’"
I frowned.
"...Did I?"
"Yes!"
She pointed accusingly at the camera.
"You’ve also answered everything I’ve said with either ’hm,’ ’yeah,’ or random nods."
"I’ve just been thinking."
"Oh, you’ve definitely been thinking."
She rested her chin on her palm.
"...About Reagan."
"What? No."
"Rose."
"I’m serious."
"I swear, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to start making up my own story."
"Go ahead."
"Oh, I fully intend to."
She rubbed her hands together with a grin that instantly made me regret answering the call.
"You don’t have any friends, so I don’t think it’s a friend issue."
"...Ouch."
"You don’t have a love interest."
"Sierra, you’re doing too much now."
"Oh, shush."
She suddenly fell quiet.
The grin slowly faded as she studied me.
"...Someone confessed to you?"
"No."
"Someone asked you out?"
"No."
She squinted.
"...Sheesh... did you have a wet dream about him or something?"
"...Psh."
Silence.
Complete silence.
"...Rose."
"What?"
"You just ’psh’d me."
"So?"
"You only say ’psh’ when you’re lying."
"I do not."
She leaned so close to the camera that all I could see were her eyes.
"...Don’t tell me."
"You’re being ridiculous."
"ROSE."
"It wasn’t a wet dream!"
Her mouth slowly fell open.
"...So it was!"
My heart stopped.
Damn it.
Sierra’s eyes widened so much I thought they were about to fall out.
"Oh..."
"No."
"...My..."
"Sierra."
"...God."
"Sierra."
"ROSE!"
"It is not what you think!"
"Then what is it?"
"I..."
Nothing came out.
Because there wasn’t a single explanation I could give without telling her the truth.
She folded her arms with the smuggest expression I’d ever seen.
"I knew it."
"You know nothing."
"I know enough to know you probably had a wet dream about your Reagan. I mean, I won’t blame you. He’s hot, but still!"
She gasped dramatically.
"Oh my God..."
"What now?"
"You like him."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I absolutely don’t."
"Then why are you blushing?"
"I am not blushing."
"You are literally tomato red."
"It’s hot."
"You have the air conditioner on."
"..."
"Girl, you should see your face right now."
I buried my face in one hand.
If only you knew he’d kissed me...
Sierra watched me quietly for a moment.
When she spoke again, the teasing had faded from her voice.
"You know..."
"What?"
"I haven’t seen you smile this much in ages."
"I wasn’t smiling."
"You totally were."
"Tsk. Barely."
"It still counts."
Despite myself, a tiny smile tugged at my lips.
She caught it immediately.
"There it is again."
I groaned.
"I should never have answered this call."
"Nope."
"You’ve been insufferable."
"I prefer emotionally supportive."
A real laugh escaped me.
The first one all day.
After that, the conversation drifted to other things, and for a little while...
I forgot.
Forgot the kiss.
Forgot the argument.
Forgot Reagan.
Eventually, Sierra glanced at the time.
"I should probably let you go before your mum thinks I’ve kidnapped you."
"Please do."
She grinned.
"And Rose?"
"What?"
"If you ever decide to tell me the truth..."
She pointed dramatically at the camera.
"I’ll be waiting."
"There’s no truth to tell. Jeez, get your pointy elbows off my back."
"You bitch, they are not pointy. They’re an appropriate length."
I laughed again before ending the call.
The room suddenly felt much quieter.
I stared at the blank screen for a moment.
That had actually helped.
My shoulders felt lighter.
The knot in my chest wasn’t completely gone...
But it wasn’t crushing me anymore either.
A small smile lingered on my lips.
Then...
Reagan’s face drifted into my thoughts.
It disappeared almost instantly.
"...Idiot."
I tossed my phone onto the bed and collapsed beside it.
Maybe I should call Sierra again.
No.
That would only prove her point that I apparently had no friends.
Besides, if I called her back, she’d spend another hour trying to drag the truth out of me.
She always did.
And I wasn’t ready for that.
With a sigh, I wandered downstairs.
Mum was arranging flowers in the dining room. She looked up the moment she heard my footsteps.
"There you are."
"Mhm."
She studied me for a second before setting the vase down.
"...Did something happen between you two?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"You and Reagan."
My stomach tightened.
"No."
"You don’t sound very convincing."
"I’m fine."
She didn’t push.
Instead, she walked over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"You know..."
Her voice softened.
"...you two should sort out whatever happened between you, okay?"
I looked away.
"...Okay."
She smiled warmly.
"And for what it’s worth..."
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret.
"I’m always on my Rosey’s side."
Despite everything, I laughed.
"I know."
"Good."
She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away.
"...Thanks, Mum."
I whispered it after she’d already disappeared.
The house grew quiet again.
Too quiet.
I tried distracting myself.
Television.
Nothing.
I picked up a book.
Three pages later, I realized I’d read the same paragraph over and over without taking in a single word.
With a frustrated sigh, I tossed it onto the coffee table.
What was wrong with me?
I leaned back against the sofa and closed my eyes.
A car engine rumbled outside.
Before I realized what I was doing...
I was already on my feet.
I hurried to the window and pulled the curtain aside just enough to peek outside.
A black SUV rolled past the house without slowing.
It wasn’t him.
I stayed there for another moment before letting the curtain fall shut.
"...Seriously?"
I rested my forehead against the cool glass.
I wasn’t waiting for Reagan, I wasn’t wondering where he’d gone, And I definitely wasn’t thinking about the woman who was supposedly waiting for him.
So why had I rushed to the window?
I didn’t care where Reagan was, I didn’t care who she was.
So why...
Why couldn’t I stop hoping he’d come back?
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