The One You Can't Forget (The One, #1)

twenty

I blush at her words. My sister is the only one who knows how much I love my best friend. "Shut up."

She nudges me again. "C'mon, Emmy – it's cute that you and Hainsey have a thing for each other. You should really ask him out. I'm getting kind of sick of the two of you flirting."

I cover my face with my hands. "Sssttoopp," I whine. "You're embarrassing me!" But she has a point – Hains and I have known each other for years now, and we've always had chemistry.

Rosa is about to continue on with her teasing when I hear a soft, familiar knock on my bedroom window. Any embarrassment or sadness I was feeling seconds ago dissipates into oblivion. Jumping out from under the covers, I rush over to the window and open it so my next-door neighbour, best friend, and hopefully boyfriend-to-be can climb through.

As soon as he's standing on the hardwood, he brushes his faded blue jeans off and looks around the bedroom. When his smoky grey eyes find Rosa and her tear-streaked face, his bright smile falters. "Rough night again?"

We both nod. Out of all our friends combined, Hains has been the one Rosa and I have confided in, so he knows all the details about the fights we've overheard. His parents have also been sailing a rocky sea for the past month, meaning he understands best.

"I'm sorry," he says.

I shrug, barely feeling any negative feelings compared to earlier. I don't know what it is about Hains, but his presence – everything, from his golden-blond hair with dark undertones to his smoky grey eyes to the killer slap shot he has – always manages to brighten the world around me. I rub the bridge of my nose. 

"What Emmy wants to say is that everything is better now that you're here," Rosa smirks.

I shoot my big sister a dirty glare, and Hains gives a nervous laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Well," Rosa says, swinging her legs over the edge of my bed. "I'll take that as my cue to leave. The two of you better behave."

Hains and I exchange a glance, both blushing profusely.

"Oh my," Rosa laughs, "the two of you are so cute."

Hains and I are both silent until she's vacated the premises, minus the sound of his shoes shuffling over to my messy bed. I watch, unable to stop myself from thinking about what Rosa said to me, as he kicks his shoes off and flops back onto the mattress. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief. Or is it frustration? I can't exactly tell right now. My emotions are tugging me in every direction.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been nervous about having him in my bedroom before. Maybe it's because I know there's no possible risk of my parents walking in – they're already busy.

Delicately, I follow, laying down next to him and staring at the ceiling while I wait for him to say something. Hains usually only comes over late at night like this when there have been problems between his parents, and he usually wants to talk about it. Who better to talk to than someone else who is experiencing something similar?

Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen.

I'm starting to get fidgety. Yeah, I love having him here and all – he's my best friend – but it's unlike him to stay so quiet. I begin to concoct ways that I could kindle a conversation, some topics including hockey and maybe running away again, but with more supplies.

"My parents are getting a divorce," he finally says, interrupting the silence.

"What?" I gasp, sitting up and looking down at him. Although his parents have been fighting, it's a shocker to hear that they're actually divorcing. I thought, out of my parents and his, that his would be the ones that would end up staying together.