BIFFLE

“YOU CAN cry if it’ll make you feel better,” Chris says. His arms are wrapped around me and my face is buried in his neck where we stand in the middle of my dad’s driveway. I think of Uncle Theo just hours ago in this same warm and comforting embrace. What a treasure.

I take a deep breath and release it into his skin. I feel strangely empty. Maybe the tears will come later, but for now I mainly just want to get the hell out of here and go home.

As we break apart, Chris grabs my hand. “I’m really proud of you, T. That took a lot of guts.”

I tear up then, a little bit, not really because of my dad, but because Chris has always been there for me—after every shitty visit with my dad, every argument, every rejection. He’s been the constant in my life, my role model, and my best friend. “Thanks, Chris.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

I sigh, trying to expel all the bad feelings I absorbed inside my father’s home before climbing into Chris’s car. “I’m glad I did it. Like you said, I made my best case.”

“If your dad doesn’t want to make time for you….”

Chris doesn’t finish his sentence. We both know it’s about more than making time, but in a way maybe it is just that. My dad has never made me a priority in his life, and he likely never will. That’s the cold, sobering truth. At least I can accept it, knowing I tried.

“He might still come around,” Chris says, ever the hopeful one.

“Maybe,” I agree, though I truly doubt it.

“Any time you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

“Your dad would have never done that,” I say, not really as a comparison, but as an observation.

Chris’s jaw sets in a hard line, and he shakes his head. “No.”

It’s hard not to take it so personal—the gravity of the realization that my dad really doesn’t want me. It’s going to take some time get over, if that’s even possible. At least Chris was there. I can talk with him about it, and he’ll understand completely. I’m less alone, because I can share the burden with him.

“I’m really glad you were there,” I say to him.

“Me too.” He shakes his head. “Man, I wanted to beat his ass so bad.”

I smile at that. “I appreciate your restraint.”

“What an asshole,” he says, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

I wish I could get angry like Chris, instead of feeling all sad and dejected, but I’m just not wired that way. Chris projects his emotions outward, whereas I suck them up and stew on them.

“If you were my son, I’d be totally stoked,” Chris says. “You’re, like, the coolest person, you know?”

My spirit lifts a little. “Thanks, Chris. You always know just what to say.”

We drift into silence, and I get to thinking then about Chris and me, and how, if he’s my boyfriend, we can’t really be best buds anymore, and that’s something I’m going to miss.

“Still thinking about your dad?” Chris asks, perhaps picking up on my silence.

“No, actually, I’m stressing about something else now.”

“You going to make me guess?”

“It’s nothing.”

He pulls into his driveway a few minutes later, and I help him unload our stuff. I pile my bags on the side of his car, then help him haul the boards back to his shed. While we’re in there, he grabs my hand and draws me to him.

“Talk to me, T.” He pulls me in close so our noses are touching, warming me up for a kiss. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to hide stuff from me.”

I hesitate because I don’t want to jinx us or have Chris think I’m not into this 110 percent. “I was just thinking about how, now that we’re together, we can’t really be best friends anymore. And that sucks.”

Chris frowns. “Yes, we can.”

“I mean, sort of, but what if we break up?”

“We just got together,” Chris harrumphs.

“I’m not saying I’d ever want to break up, but if it happens, then what?”

Chris’s eyebrows furrow, and he stares past my shoulder for a moment. “I don’t want to think about it. That would really suck.”

“Yeah, I know. It would be the worst.”

“We should make a pact,” he says. “Like, no matter what happens with this, we’ll always be friends.”

“Can we make that promise?”

“I can,” Chris says stubbornly, a challenge in his voice.

“Well, I can too.”

“Bet me, then.”

“Bet you what?”

“That we’ll always be friends.”

“To make a bet, you have to be at odds. Otherwise, what’s the bet?”

He groans at my literal interpretation of things. “Just this once, let’s bet on the same thing. The consequence of breaking the bet is a lifetime of suck.”

I’m tempted to ask him to define “lifetime of suck,” but I figure it to be more symbolic than anything else, and regardless, not having Chris as a friend would suck, for at least a lifetime. So I agree to his bet and we shake on it, as our deals have always been sealed in the past. It’s settled. No matter what happens, we’ll always be friends. I’m relieved. Chris is good at making complicated things seem easy.

“Be honest if you get sick of me,” I tell him.

“It’s been five years and I’m not sick of you yet. Be honest if I’m getting too possessive or jealous.”

“I don’t see that happening.” He lifts his eyebrows like he doesn’t believe me. “Fine, but honestly, I kind of like it.”

He grins at me like a scoundrel. “Awesome, then if you’re done, I brought you in here to make out with me.”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” I tease, and he peppers my lips until I kiss him back with fervor. I’ll never get tired of this—kissing, touching, talking—all our little intimacies and exchanges. I think of Uncle Theo’s friend and what a loss that must have been for him to endure, how a person can spend their whole life searching for the kind of connection Chris and I found in each other. How lucky are we? Wherever I go in life and wherever I end up, I want to remember this feeling of being understood and accepted exactly as I am. And I want to love and honor Chris with the same devotion.

“You have my heart completely,” I confess to him.

“You’ve got mine. Even though yours is probably bigger, judging from the rest of you.”

I chuckle and he grips me tighter, demanding my full attention. We make out in the fading buttery light of his shed until my mom calls me home from my bedroom window, reminding me there’s a whole world outside, and we can’t keep it waiting forever.

I press one gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. “I gotta go, Boss.”

“See you tomorrow.”

We exit the shed to find my mom shaking her head at us with a small smile on her face. As soon as she turns away from the window, Chris grabs my ass, and I dive in for one more good night kiss. “Best friends for life,” he reminds me with that cocky grin as he struts up his driveway. I watch him until I can’t anymore.