I shifted the package under my Christmas tree as I waited for Nash to show up. He was leaving tomorrow to visit family in Erie, so we were exchanging our presents tonight. I’d worked really hard to save up for his gift, and I couldn’t wait to give it to him. I’d taken extra babysitting jobs, mowed extra lawns, and even shoveled snow. My muscles were still sore from the snow storm we’d gotten a few days earlier. As soon as I’d gotten home from school, I picked up the snow shovel and knocked on doors. It was well after dark when I’d finished. My mom had taken me to the mall today since I’d finally scraped enough together. It was a close call, but I wanted to get him the best present possible.

Nash and me. Me and Nash. For so many years, we were almost synonymous. You couldn’t have one of us without the other. We were a matched set, a perfect pair, inseparable in every way. He was my best friend, and I was his. There was one constant in my life, and it was Nash. Other than my parents, Nash was the person I loved most in this world. I had other friends and even another best friend, but none of them held the place in my heart that Nash did.

We’d met on our first day of kindergarten. The bully of our grade had dared me to jump off the swing in midair. I was completely unable to turn down a dare, so I did. I fell and crash-landed on the playground, completely shredding my knees and hands, and I was a bloody mess, literally. Nash ran across the playground and helped me to the nurse’s office and stayed with me while my wounds were cleaned, and my mom was called. From that day forward, I knew he was good people. It’s not often in life you meet someone you can’t imagine living without and it’s even rarer to meet that someone at five. I lucked out when it came to Nash.

Over the years, I’d been there for him in every way I could. I was there during his first piano recital and cheered him on when he played baseball. He was present at my Girl Scouts ceremonies and during my ill-fated attempt at jazz lessons, when I’d fallen over and knocked over the girls around me.

We were like spaghetti and meatballs, the perfect combination.

And tonight, I felt like I was handing him a giant sign that said, “I like you more than a friend.” There was no going back now. My stomach was in my throat, and my hands continually ran over my red Christmas dress. For some reason, I’d wanted to dress up tonight. As if there wasn’t enough pressure.

The doorbell rang, and my hands immediately dampened with nerves. I strode to the door, opening it. “Hey,” I greeted Nash and waved him inside.

“What’s up, Bee?” he asked, pulling his book bag higher up on his shoulder, grinning at me. My stomach flipped at his smile. My cheeks heated, and I turned away, not wanting him to notice. I grabbed his hand, which was really just an excuse to touch him, and pulled him into the living room. In kindergarten, on the first day, I’d jumped off a swing and fallen badly. I’d scraped my knees and my hands. Nash was there to help me. He dusted me off, helped me to the nurse, and sat with me until the nurse got me all cleaned up. The next day, I’d brought him brownies my mom and I had made as a thank you for helping me out. When I’d given them to him, he’d thanked me and called me bumble bee, which was the start of him calling me Bee. When I’d asked him why, he said, “When you flew through the air, you looked like a bee going into a flower.”

“You can put your stuff under the tree.” I sat on the couch as he rolled his eyes.

“Really? I have to put them under the tree?” He unzipped his bag and pulled out a beautifully wrapped package. I wondered if his sister, Hazel, had wrapped it for him.

“That’s the deal on Christmas. Presents under the tree, then you open them.” I loved the way the gifts looked underneath the tree. Something about the way the lights reflected off the beautiful paper made my heart warm and my lips smile.

“It’s okay to bend the rules a little bit, you know,” he grumbled.

I bit back a laugh. “These aren’t rules I want to break.” I raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to push the issue farther, especially since he knew I was a notorious rule follower. He was the rule breaker in our duet.

“Nash, you’re here,” my mom said as she floated in the room. She had on a red Christmas sweater and a matching skirt. She set a tray with two mugs of hot chocolate on it, along with dishes of marshmallows, chocolate, and candy canes to mix in.

“Hi, Mrs. Fair.” He grabbed a mug of chocolate and took a sip, yelping when he burnt his lip. My mom didn’t use the packets from the store, she had some complicated recipe that she spent way too much time on.

“Are you ready to visit family tomorrow?” She stood in the doorway back to the dining room, a pleasant smile on her face. Really, she wanted to make it known that she was around. Even though Nash had been my best friend for forever, she liked to let him know that she was keeping an eye on the two of us.

Nash shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m sure they can’t wait to see you.” She smiled and breezed from the room, a faint hint of her perfume trailing behind her.

“Is she ever not dressed up and wearing makeup?” Nash asked as he dropped a handful of marshmallows into his mug. A few fell on the floor, and I fought the urge to bend and pick them up. They’d have to be gone before my mom noticed, but I didn’t need to show how much it bothered me that they were there. Or how much Nash’s slurping drove me batty.

“Sometimes when she makes coffee.” I put a piece of chocolate in my cup, stirred it with a candy cane, and added marshmallows on top, then took a sip. The minty chocolate flavor was divine.

“I think my dad would fall over if my mom was always so put together.” He snorted out a laugh. My mom loved the appearance of perfection. Her makeup was always done, her clothes matched and slightly dressy, and her hair styled. Even after a long day in court, she never looked disheveled.

I laughed. “Want to exchange gifts now?” I asked, nerves growing wings in my stomach again.

“Sure.” He finished his hot chocolate and set the mug on the coffee table. I’d have to make sure to wipe away any ring left behind. We moved over to sit next to the tree. Nash gazed at the gift I hefted next to me. “Please tell me you didn’t go crazy.”

“I didn’t go crazy.” I smiled innocently at him.

“Who do you want to go first?” Nash asked, avoiding my look. He bit the corner of his lip.

I shrugged. “Let’s go at the same time.” I slid my offering toward him, and he handed me his.

“On the count of three,” he said. I nodded. “One. Two. Three.” We tore through the wrapping paper in silence. “Bianca,” he said, his voice breathy and full of awe. He tore open the box and took the guitar out of it, his hands and eyes full of reverence. “You didn’t have to buy this.” He held the guitar he’d been staring at for years in his lap, and it fit in his arms perfectly.

“It’s a few years coming, but…” I shrugged, not knowing what to say. Heat climbed in my cheeks again as he looked between me and the guitar.

His green eyes glistened, and he ran a hand through his messy hair as he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Bee.” His voice was hoarse like he was choked with emotion. He trailed his fingers over the wood reverently. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Every pulled muscle, calloused finger, and night spent in instead of going out was worth the look on his face right now. I couldn’t wait for his parents to tell him the rest. After several long moments, he turned his attention to me. “You haven’t even looked at what I got you.” His fingers absentmindedly moved over the strings as though he were stroking it, filling it with love before he pulled music from it.

I turned my attention back to the unwrapped package in front of me. I’d been so wrapped up in Nash I’d forgotten what I was doing. I finished taking the paper off it and stared in awe. It was an Erin Condren planner, a notepad, and a big pack of colored pencils. I’d wanted one of these for so long, but I never thought I’d get it. My mom thought it was ridiculous for a high school freshman to own such expensive stationary. The designs were so beautiful, and now I could be even more organized. “Thank you so much, Nash. You even got the pattern I really wanted.” The edges of the calendar were swirls of purple and teal that matched the notepad. The colored pencils were even more beautiful in real life.

“I know you’ve wanted those, so…” His voice trailed off. He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a huge deal. The fact that he’d paid attention to what I’d been not-so-secretly wanting made a smile creep on my face. My belly did a dance knowing that he’d heard the hints I’d dropped to my parents, knowing that he’d paid attention. I set my gifts to the side and crawled the few feet over to him, hugging him. I breathed in his scent and absorbed the warmth radiating from him as the side of the guitar poked into my stomach. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Thank you, Bee. This is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.” His lips pressed against the side of my face and it felt like they seared into me, lighting me on fire. I fought the urge to lean into his kiss. “Hell, the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” His voice was hoarse again, and there was something undeniably sexy about it. Something warm pooled low in my belly that made me press my thighs together.

I sighed, pulling away from him reluctantly. I reached under the tree and pulled out a stack of paper wrapped in a red ribbon. “I got you some music paper. I know you said you were interested in writing your own music, so I figured it’d get you started.”

His mouth dropped open as he took the paper from me. “Bee,” he choked out. “You spent way too much.” He stroked the paper as though it was the most delicate thing in the world.

“So did you.”

“You’re worth it.”

“So are you.” I hugged him again, wanting to be close to him, to feel him against me. My stomach did its usual somersault, and my heart thumped erratically. “You’re my best friend, Nash. You only deserve the best.” I smiled at him, and he grinned back. His grin sent a tingle of something delicious down my spine. I wanted to press my lips to his, feel the curve of them against my own.

“It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re the best, best friend in the whole world.” He set the guitar to the side and tackled me to the ground, tickling me, making me laugh so hard my sides hurt. When he finally stopped, his fingers were pressed into my side, and his weight was still mostly on top of me. The laughter died as I was intimately aware of every place our bodies touched, feelings stirring inside me that I didn’t understand. His thumb brushed over me, pulling my shirt up slightly. I felt that touch radiate throughout my entire body, and I sucked in a breath as he leaned a little closer, his smile falling. Something in his eyes captivated me, held me against the floor and made it impossible to fill my lungs. Part of me wondered if he’d lean down and kiss me and, God, I wanted that kiss so badly.

Instead, my mom’s clacking heels coming down the hallway caused him to jump up. He pulled me with him, smoothing my clothes down and picking up the guitar and centering it in his lap purposefully.

Leave it to my mom to ruin the moment.

School was back in session after Christmas, and I was glad my routine was back in full swing. I had my brand-new planner on my desk and a notebook. I’d spent a long time over the break figuring out how to label everything in it. I picked which color was for which class and which ones were for stuff I had planned with my friends. Peyton, my other best friend, teased me, telling me that normal teenagers didn’t enjoy being so organized. There was almost nothing as thrilling as organizing things. The only thing I’d found that was better was Nash.

Mr. Goreski walked into the room. “Get your textbooks out. We’re hitting the ground running.” He walked to the whiteboard and uncapped a marker, launching into our history lesson.

“Pssst,” the person behind me said, poking me in the back with his finger. I tried to ignore him and pay attention to the notes I was writing, but the kid behind me wouldn’t stop.

I turned slightly when the teacher was writing on the board. “What?” I bit out in a whisper.

“Can I borrow a piece of paper and a pencil?” he asked, a lopsided smile gracing his lips. His eyes were a bright blue, almost looking like they were crystal. I huffed and ripped a piece of paper out of my notebook, then reached for a pencil out of my book bag. After handing it to him, he thanked me and began scribbling on the paper. I’d never seen him before, and I wondered if he was new. How could you show up to school so unprepared?

I brushed thoughts of the strange boy behind me away as Mr. Goreski continued the lesson. There was no time to focus on him while the teacher was in front of the class. This teacher was notoriously tough and loved throwing curveballs, especially pop quizzes. I couldn’t afford for my focus to be on anything other than what we were learning.

When the class was over, the kid behind me poked me again, this time with my pencil. “Here’s your pencil. Thanks.” He handed it to me, folding up the piece of paper and shoving it in his pocket. Without another word, he sauntered out of the room. I couldn’t help but notice he had nothing but his newly acquired textbook tucked under his arm, even though it was fourth period. Surely, he’d gotten books in his other classes, but he didn’t seem to have any of them.

His inability to prepare irked me, so I fished out my extra notebook, then walked out of the room, scanning the halls. I saw the kid at his locker, shoving his history book in. As I approached, I saw the inside of his locker decorated with music stuff. He had band stickers and pictures taped to the inside. I recognized a few of them as bands that Nash really liked.

“Here,” I said when I stopped next to him, handing him the notebook and the pencil. “You should have something to write on for the rest of the day.”

He regarded me, his eyes drifting over my body as if he was assessing me. “Thanks.” He tucked the pencil behind his ear. I nodded and turned to walk away. “My name’s Felix.”

I looked back at him. Nash’s words from long ago drifting through my mind. My mom says it’s really important to tell people your name if you’re going to be friends. “Bianca.” His dark hair brought out his bright blue eyes. His hair was disheveled and kind of a disaster. In fact, his hair looked like a darker version of Nash’s. Looking over his wrinkled shirt, dark jeans, and Converse, I realized that Nash and Felix were almost clones. Different hair color, eye color, and different complexion. Those were the only differences I could see so far. In fact, Felix seemed to have Nash’s laid-back personality down too. It drove me insane how Nash drifted through school like it wasn’t important.

“What lunch do you have?” His eyes kept moving over me as if he was trying to commit me to memory.

“B. What about you?”

“B. We should sit together.”

I blinked a few times, surprised at how forward he was. He didn’t seem phased or worried that I’d reject him. He put the offer out there, and it was up to me what I did with it. I had a feeling he’d be fine if I told him no, but I didn’t want to. Something about him intrigued me. Maybe it was his similarities to Nash, or maybe it was his aloofness. “Sure. My friends are in B lunch, too. We can all sit together.”

“Cool.” One corner of his lips tipped up, and he slammed his locker shut. He nabbed the pencil from behind his ear and gestured toward me. “Thanks for this.” He strode away, and I watched after him, shaking my head.

It was finally lunchtime, and I couldn’t wait to catch up with Peyton and Nash. Where Nash and I had been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, Peyton and I hadn’t met until first grade. She felt like the other half of me, the half not taken up by Nash. I’d hung out with Peyton a bunch over break, but I hadn’t seen Nash since our Christmas gift exchange. I knew his parents had told him about the guitar lessons they got him by the excited text he sent me. It had taken weeks of convincing his parents to let him drop baseball and pick up guitar. Finally, they realized that music was clearly Nash’s passion in a way sports had never been—and never would be. After I’d convinced them, I’d asked if I could get Nash the guitar. I planned on doing it anyway, but I figured it’d be easier if I had them on board.

I grabbed my lunch and started toward our usual table. As I passed the other lunch line, Felix popped out of the cafeteria.

“Bianca,” he greeted, nodding his head.

“Hey.” I smiled. “We sit over this way.” He waved his arm in front of him and followed behind me.

“Hey,” he said.

I sat down next to Peyton and Felix sat down next to me. He opened his milk and took long pulls from it before saying anything. “Hey, guys,” I said. “This is Felix, we have history together. Felix, these are my best friends, Nash and Peyton.” They all exchanged hellos, and Nash and Felix regarded each other.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Peyton said. I shot Peyton a look, wishing she could practice manners once in a while. Her hair matched her mouth. It was blonde and cut into a straight bob, her bangs hanging down almost into her eyes. Her eyes were a weird mix of blue and gray, they almost looked like silver.

“I just moved here.” Felix opened his milk and guzzled it. “I’ve only been here for a week.”

“Where’d you move from?” Peyton asked, ripping off a piece of breadstick and popping it in her mouth.

“Los Angeles.”

“Damn, that’s quite a change,” Nash quipped. “Talk about different everything. Weather, people, town. Welcome to the suburbs of Pennsylvania. The most exciting thing that happens here are football games and maybe a cow tipping.” Nash raised his milk in salute.

“Yeah, I’m getting that feel,” Felix responded. “It’s different, but it’s good so far. Other than the snow.”

“Snow is the devil.” Nash nodded.

“Why’d you move?” Peyton asked.

“Peyton! Stop being nosey!” I threw a piece of my bread at her. Of course, she leaned down, and it landed in her mouth. She chewed, a huge smile on her face. I rolled my eyes at her.

“My parents split. My dad stayed in LA, my mom got a job here. Plus, all her family is here, so it made sense.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s no big deal. They aren’t fighting anymore, so it’s a win.”

Conversation flowed away from grilling the new guy to random tidbits of the day. Felix seamlessly inserted himself into our group, like he’d always been here. As soon as Nash pulled out a piece of music paper, Felix’s body went rigid beside me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering what was wrong. Nash had told me he’d been working on something while he was in Erie with his family.

“What’s that?” Felix asked. He leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the paper.

“Something I’ve been working on,” Nash responded, never looking up, his pencil tapping along to an imaginary beat he heard.

“You play?” Felix’s eyes flicked between the paper and Nash, appraising him again. It was like pieces were rearranging in his head, like suddenly Nash was much more interesting.

“Yeah. Piano and I just started guitar.”

Felix sat back, and a huge Cheshire grin curled his lips. “Drums,” Felix said. Nash’s head shot up. They looked at each other as if they were fully assessing the other, trying to feel each other out. “I can look at it if you want.”

“You write songs?”

Felix shrugged. “I do.”

Nash paused a beat, continuing to study Felix. He nodded once. “Okay.” Nash moved over, and Felix went around the table to sit next to him.

Peyton and I exchanged a look. “Okaaayy,” she said, raising an eyebrow. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Nash had confessed to me a few times that while he loved being friends with Peyton and me, he felt kind of like an outsider. Sure, Peyton and I liked music, we listened to it and enjoyed singing along, but we didn’t live music the way Nash did. It warmed me knowing he’d found someone he could talk to about it. He could share his passion with someone else, and they’d get it.

For the next twenty minutes, Felix and Nash didn’t stop talking. They got more and more animated and excited as time went on. Peyton and I tried to talk about other things, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the two of them. Though, really, it was Nash I couldn’t stop staring at. I liked watching his cheeks go pink with the excitement of someone getting it, of being able to share his passion with someone else. His eyes lit with a spark, and he talked animatedly. My lips curved upward, once again getting wrapped up in his enthusiasm.

It was one of those moments that you could tell something was happening. The way Nash smiled at Felix and the way Felix leaned closer. They talked in hushed tones as if discussing something of national security. Nash erased something and scribbled something else in its place. Felix nodded enthusiastically. They effortlessly meshed together, becoming one musical mind.

“Come over tonight and we’ll work on it,” Nash said when the lunch bell rang.

“Four?” Felix asked.

“Sounds good. I’m free tonight.”

They went off on their own, talking. “You hear that sound?” Peyton asked.

“What’s that?” I watched the two boys walk away.

“That’s the sound of a bromance being born.” I threw my head back and laughed, bumping into Peyton’s shoulder.

“They hit it off, huh?”

“Yeah. I have a feeling they’ll be making sweet, sweet music together.” Peyton grinned.

“Oh, my God, stop!” I couldn’t stop laughing.

“You just watch,” Peyton said, suddenly serious, “that’s something special right there.” She pointed at their retreating backs. They were hunched together, invisible lines of music tying them together.

My eyes went to the door the boys had just walked through. I had a feeling Peyton was right.