22 | dinner with the parents

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BRIE

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BRIE


          A wave of freezing cold nausea spreads across my stomach.

          With Rhett being so hesitant to tell his parents we're supposedly dating for real, I at least expected him to let Andy in on the secret, like I spilled the beans to Nancy, but I can never be too sure. I don't want to jump to conclusions, not when the stakes are so high, and I don't want to be the one who makes him spiral, especially with my concern for him growing by the day.

          With him keeping Andy's private life out of everyone else's prying eyes, including mine, it only makes sense for him to also keep this to himself, but he and Andy are much closer than Nancy and me. They're much closer than I am to Rhett, too, and it's definitely not the kind of thing that is reasonable to be jealous of someone over, and yet.

          I have to remind myself they've been best friends for the exact same time Rhett and I were out of each other's lives and, though it's not like I'm feeling replaced per se—we've never been best friends or anything of the sort, but we were close—it still feels a bit foreign to realize I'm not his person. I haven't been his person for a few years at this point and hadn't given it much thought . . . until now that I'm being confronted with it.

          Rhett has his secrets. He can keep them.

          "You've known Rhett for a long time," Andy states. He doesn't need to ask. I don't like that certain details of my life have been discussed behind my back, but this isn't just about my life, is it? Even Cole knows Rhett and I have history, which is much more dangerous than Andy de Haan knowing about it. "You know he has changed. He's different from the guy he used to be in freshman year, so I can only assume you've known different versions of him."

          "I've known him pretty much my whole life," I confirm. He nods. "We haven't known each other since we popped out of the womb or anything of the sort, but we grew in adjacent circles, went to the same schools, knew the same people. We're . . . inevitable, in a way. If that makes sense. Even if nothing romantic happened, he's always been there, you know? I know it's not exactly healthy to let the presence or absence of someone in your life dictate how stable you are, but I've always found it comforting to know he's a part of my life. Things got a bit awkward after high school, when we broke up for the first time, and, though it was for the better and we both needed that distance to grow and heal, it still felt weird."

          "Yeah, I get it. You grow used to seeing that person every day, they've been a part of your life since you can remember . . . it disrupts your routine when you lose them, even if it's temporarily."

          "Is it like that for you and Jackie?"

          It's only after the words leave my mouth that I realize how invasive of a question this is, and the urge to knock off my own teeth in embarrassment is almost too strong to resist. He takes it with plenty more grace than I would have, choosing to act unbothered by my lack of tact.

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