Best Friends Don't Kiss

“Shh!” I lift my hand to cover his mouth. “Don’t say it. My stomach can’t handle any more food talk.”

Luke smirks, and when he acts like he’s going to lick the palm of my hand, I quickly remove it from his face on a giggle.

“Aww…new love,” Lena comments. “Isn’t it the cutest, Maybe?”

Maybe nods in agreement. “The blessed honeymoon phase.”

I look at them both, confused, but when all the other girls start chiming in and I realize they’re staring toward us, it hits me.

They’re talking about us. Luke and me.

I almost open my mouth to correct them, but then I remember, tonight, he’s my boyfriend. Well, we’re pretending he’s my boyfriend.

Though, it kind of seems like you’re just being your normal, usual self with Luke…

No, I’m pretending. We’re never this physical with each other. I don’t think.

I don’t usually act this affectionate and cuddly and flirty with Luke…right?

News flash, sister, you actually do. All the freaking time.December 4th

LukeIn the background, Mariah Carey sings about what she wants for Christmas, and I count fifteen Santa Clauses on the dance floor and another ten standing at the bar—trying to wave down the bartender for more booze. And I can’t forget Trevor, the other jolly red-velvet-suited bastard sitting across from me at our high-top table.

Christmas season is officially upon us, and Harry’s Bar is encouraging the (drunk) holiday spirit by hosting their annual Santa Claus night. Everyone inside this place is dressed up to celebrate. Hell, even Ava convinced me to wear an ugly Christmas sweater with the Golden Girls front and center and the words Stay Golden embroidered across the chest.

Well, more like, forced me to. She bought the damn thing off Amazon and all but shoved it over my head before we came here.

“Happy fucking holidays,” Trev cheers, raising his shot of tequila toward my beer and downing it without delay, his white beard slipping halfway down his chin in the process.

“Cheers, man.” I return the gesture and take a sip from my pint of Guinness.

He slams his shot glass onto the table with a groan and wipes the remnants of tequila from his beard while simultaneously adjusting it back into place. “It’s hard to believe that next year at this time, you might be in Houston.”

All I can do is nod. Fact is, I will be in Houston next year. This morning, I received my official packet in the mail—a thick, NASA-embossed envelope, filled with my acceptance letter, along with a lot of other material that I need to know about the program and moving to Texas.

But I still haven’t delivered that news to anyone. Not Uncle Gary. Not Trevor. Not even Ava. For the past few weeks, every time I’ve opened my mouth to tell her, it’s like my throat locks up and I can’t get the fucking words out.

This is everything I’ve worked my ass off for, and now that it’s officially here, now that I’ve actually achieved what, at times, felt like the impossible, the realization of leaving New York—leaving my friends, leaving Ava—for good makes me feel like I’m losing my family for a second time. I guess I never realized how much I latched on to them in the absence of my parents.

“Have you heard anything from NASA yet?” he asks, and like a coward, I shake my head.

But instead of perpetuating the lie, I switch the topic of conversation. “I’m taking a leave halfway through December. You’re going to be flying with Barry through the holidays.”

“What?” he nearly shouts. “What do you mean, I’m going to be flying with fucking Barry?”

If it isn’t obvious already, Trevor isn’t Barry’s number one fan.

“I mean exactly what I said. I’m going on a trip. Leave the 21st and won’t be back until after New Year’s Eve.”

Everything is true about the coming back part. Though, after the 21st, I won’t be flying with Trev ever again. When Ava and I get back from Vermont, I’ll have to pack up my apartment and head to Houston.

I’m going to tell him the full truth soon, but I have to deliver this news to Ava first.

And yet, even though you’ve been with her nearly every day since you found out, you still haven’t told her…

He narrows his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“On a trip,” I answer, purposely teasing him with the details.

“Yeah, I got that,” he retorts. “But where is said trip?”

“On the East Coast.”

“We are on the East Coast, you fuck.”

I just grin. “I know. Talk about convenient, right?”

“Luke!” Ava’s voice fills my ears, and I turn on my barstool to find her standing at the bar with Desi and Claire, gesturing toward me. “Do you guys need a refill?”

I look back at the table and take a quick inventory of our drinks and turn back toward Ava. “Two more Guinness and another shot for Trev!”