Page 68 of Never Not Friends

I don’t think I can ever look at him again.

VINNY

I’ve been trying to catch her eye for the last hour. It shouldn’t be this hard. Emma always seems to glance my way like old friends do. But now she’s suddenly fascinated with everything that isn’t me. The TV. The snacks. The floor. Literally anything but looking in my direction.

And I know why.

That video.

She’s clearly embarrassed. Emma’s always been the easiest person in the world to read, wearing her emotions on her face. I’ve seen her blush more times than I can count—over stupid jokes, over nothing, over things that didn’t even make sense.

I lean back against the couch, half watching whatever’s playing now but not really seeing it. My mind keeps looping back to the first movie Juliet showed—the grainy footage, the sound of Emma’s voice, younger and confident.

I’m going to marry Vinny Brooks.

I’d never seen that video before. Didn’t even know it existed. But I’m glad I saw it. It put everything into place. Like maybe I hadn’t imagined how strong my feelings for her were back then. How real it felt. How much it wrecked me when she ended things.

The weird part is hearing her say it.

Marry.

Because I said the same thing. Not to her. To my mom.

It was after school one day in ninth grade. I came home and told my mom, with all the confidence only a fifteen-year-old can have, that Emma was it for me. That someday I’d marry her.

And now I learn that Emma had been just as sure about me.

So what happened to us? How did we get here?

I drag a hand over the back of my neck, exhaling quietly.

It doesn’t matter now.

That was years ago.

Water under the bridge.

Juliet laughs at something on the screen, leaning into my side, and I glance down at her automatically, smiling.

At fifteen, I would’ve bet everything I owned that the redhead across the room would be the girl cuddled up to me on the couch for the rest of my life.

Instead, it’s Juliet.

Not that that’s a bad thing. I love Juliet. We’ve been together for years.

Still, I can’t help the sadness I feel thinking about how far a life can veer away from what you once thought you wanted. What once felt inevitable.

“Do you remember this one?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Barely.”

But my attention drifts again back to Emma. She’s laughing with the girls, nodding along, playing her part perfectly. If I didn’t know her, I’d believe it.

But I do know her.

And that laugh is a fraction too late.

That smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.