Impatiently, I grumbled and tapped my Valentino heels on the concrete floor of the hallway. Students bustled past, jostling each other in their rush to get to class. Glancing at my watch, a scowl formed on my face.
Where on earth is he?
I had seen all my friends earlier in the morning. They had wished me a happy birthday, and I made sure to remind them about the party at my house tonight. As the minutes ticked by, the hallway gradually emptied, leaving only a few stragglers scurrying to their classes.
Finally, Zane sauntered through the large doors, seemingly unfazed by his lateness. A wide smile stretched across his face when he spotted me leaning against his locker. "Happy sweet sixteen, sugarplum."
He draped his arm over my shoulder and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Cute. New shoes?"
"Yes, a gift from Milan. Why are you late? You know Mrs. Nguyen doesn't tolerate tardiness," I scolded him, giving him a disapproving look.
"Pff, I know," he replied nonchalantly. "But I don't care, because it's your birthday today." With a cheesy grin, we began walking towards our History class.
"Yeah, right," I scoffed, rolling my eyes as we ascended the stairs to the first floor. "By the way, why were you late?"
"Want to know now or later?" he asked, scanning the surroundings as if searching for someone.
"Now, please. You know I'm impatient."
He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Then let's go."
Before I could comprehend his intention, he tugged me into the janitor's closet. "What the hell, Zane?!" I exclaimed, my heart pounding in my chest.
Swiftly, he placed his hand over my mouth. "Shh, you wanted to know why I was late, right?"
I nodded, wide-eyed.
Slowly, he removed his hand. "Promise me you won't scream," he whispered, fumbling with his backpack.
I shook my head. "I won't."
"Promise me."
"I promise." Now my curiosity and nerves were escalating simultaneously. "Show me."
With caution, he unzipped his backpack and glanced up at me. "Don't scream," he warned, before revealing its contents.
My eyes widened in shock as I beheld what was inside his bag, and before Zane could cover my mouth, a scream escaped my lips.
Zane took a sip of his wine and leaned close to me, his shoulder occasionally brushing against mine as he spoke with his dad. "The meeting ended early. Stanford's wife went into labor, so we had to cut it short," he explained.
When Zane entered the restaurant, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He had changed so much in five years-taller, broader-shouldered, with his dark hair falling over his face as his curious eyes took in my appearance.
If he was surprised to see me, he didn't show it.
"Excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom," I said, placing my napkin on my plate and rising from my seat. I could feel Zane's gaze burning into my back as I walked away.
I couldn't bear being so close to him any longer. It was suffocating to be in the presence of someone who had once meant everything to me.
He acted as if there was nothing wrong between us, as if we were still the best of friends.
Before he sat down beside me, he enveloped me in a tight hug, whispering about how much he missed me. I couldn't help but tense up in his embrace. He must have sensed it because he quickly let go and gave me a perplexed look.
I chose to ignore him and tried to return to my usual self. However, it wasn't easy, especially with him sitting so close. His presence felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I realized I didn't want to return to the table. I didn't want to sit next to him anymore. Oh God, how would I survive the wedding?
With a deep sigh, I rummaged through my purse in search of my lip gloss. The bathroom door swung open, revealing a concerned Angelica.
"Are you okay?" she asked, walking towards me. After scanning me once, she added, "You seemed really uncomfortable out there."
Thank goodness she noticed, because I was certain the others hadn't. "I want to go home," I whispered, gripping the sink tightly to maintain my balance. "I don't want to go back out there."
Angelica's concern was evident as she caressed my bare back. "Is it that bad?" she asked gently.
I nodded, my heart heavy with the shock of seeing him again after all these years. "It is. It's overwhelming."
Understanding my distress, Angelica reached for her phone in her clutch and dialed her driver. After a brief conversation, she gave me a reassuring smile. "He'll be outside waiting for you in five minutes. I'll arrange for you to go home."
"Thank you, Angel," I said, embracing her gratefully. "You're truly my savior."
She chuckled. "You're welcome. But can I tell you something, Amari?"
"Of course. You know you can confide in me."
"You and Zane need to talk."
I started to protest, but Angelica interrupted me. "I know you're hesitant, but for once, be the bigger person. Talk to him. You don't have to be friends again, but at least have a conversation. Clear up all the misunderstandings."
I let out a deep sigh and closed my purse. "Fine, if and when I'm ready, I'll consider it," I promised her, although deep down, I knew I was only saying it to appease her.
Promises are often meant to be broken, just like the one we made on my sixteenth birthday.
After bidding our farewells, Angelica returned to the table to inform everyone that I had a headache and would be heading home.
I walked to the sidewalk and waited, feeling the chill of the windy New York night. Shivering slightly, I suddenly felt a jacket being draped over my shoulders. I turned around and my lips curled into a snarl. "Get your jacket off me!" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at my ex-best friend.
"You'll catch a cold," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's because of me, isn't it?"
"What?" I asked, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor. The liveliness he had shown earlier had vanished, leaving him quiet and almost dull. His smile was gone, and there was no sparkle in his eyes like before.
"It's because you're leaving so early. You don't have a headache," he clarified, studying me intently. "I do have a headache," I lied, turning my back to him. Lying to his face had always been a challenge for me. He had caught me red-handed so many times before.
"I know you're lying. I've known you longer than just today, sugarplum."
My insides churned upon hearing that nickname again.
"You don't know me anymore!" I hissed, facing him with anger burning in my eyes. "And don't call me sugarplum!"
"You're still mad at me for what happened, aren't you? Even though I emailed you to apologize, but you blocked me on all your social media," he said, sighing deeply. "I made a mistake. Why can't you forgive me?"
"Because..." It hurt so much when you chose her over me. I felt my heart shatter into pieces. How can I forgive you after that? After everything we've been through, couldn't you see how much I cared about you? Or were you simply blind? "You ended our friendship. It was your choice. And who's to say you won't do it again? We both know how much your girlfriends dislike me," I said bitterly.
"What can I do to earn your forgiveness?" he asked quietly. "I'm desperate to have your friendship back, Amari. You have no idea how much I've missed you!"
I scoffed and let out a humorless laugh. "There's nothing you can do. Just stay away from me until the wedding."
"You know I can't do that," he said, frustration evident in his voice.
"You managed to do it for five years. You can do it for a few more weeks."
"That was you avoiding me!" he exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. "Come on, Amari. Come back into my life. You're the only girl I would go on my knees for to ask for forgiveness."
"Don't be ridiculous." I heard a honk from behind me and turned to see Angelica's driver waiting for me. "My ride's here. Goodnight."
Before he could say anything, I stepped inside the car. I glanced out of the tinted windows, regretting it instantly. Zane stood outside with a dejected look on his face, watching as the car slowly drove away. My heart squeezed in pain as I saw him head back inside the restaurant.
I wasn't the only one who had suffered during the past five years.
Leaning back in the plush leather seat, I realized that Zane's jacket was still draped over my shoulders. I took it off and hugged it tightly, inhaling his cologne. My eyes widened when I realized it was my favorite one, the one I had recommended to him years ago. Hugo Boss.
Tears streamed down my face, and the driver handed me a box of tissues.
"Boyfriend problems, madam?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes while keeping his focus on the road.
I shook my head, wiping away my tears. "No, it's so much worse. Best friend problems."
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