Sylvia peeked out from under the pillow, her eyes half-lidded. “I gave him a C on his midterm. That’s all the notice he’s getting.”
We all dissolved into laughter, the kind that left me a little breathless, my chest tight in the best way.
This. This was what I’d been missing.
As we dug into the macaroni, sprawled out on the floor with mismatched bowls in our laps, I found myself watching Brittany more than I probably should’ve — the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when it fell into her face, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, the way she always, always made sure everyone else had enough before she served herself.
Somewhere along the line, friendship had turned into this — into something I craved, something that made me high on adrenaline just to be around. It was dangerous, maybe, how much I felt. But God, it was also the first time in years I’d felt alive.
“Okay,” Sylvia said, pushing to her feet and brushing crumbs off her jeans, “I’m leaving before I end up in a macaroni coma.”
Brittany grinned. “You sure you don’t want to stay for Taco Saturday?”
Sylvia groaned. “Don’t tempt me. I have papers to grade, hearts to crush.”
I laughed, standing to grab her coat. “Be gentle with him, yeah?”
She smirked as she took the coat from me. “No promises, Ace.”
When she left, Brittany and I lingered in the kitchen, washing dishes shoulder to shoulder, our elbows bumping, soap bubbles floating between us. It should’ve been mundane, boring even — but with her, even the quiet moments felt electric.
She nudged me with her hip as I rinsed a plate. “You’re awfully quiet tonight.”
I swallowed hard, fingers tightening on the plate. “Just… thinking.”
“About?”
I set the plate aside, wiping my hands on a towel, heart pounding. This was it — the moment I’d been trying to work up to for weeks.
“About us,” I said quietly, turning to face her.
Her eyes widened, fingers freezing on the edge of the sink. “Us?”
I took a slow breath, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking. “Britt… these past few months have been… amazing. You’re amazing. And I know we said we’d start as friends, but—”
“Ace…” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
I pressed on, words tumbling out faster than I could stop them. “But I want more. I want to take you out — on a real date. Just you and me. No macaroni, no tacos, no Sylvia grading papers in the corner. Just… us.”
For a second, the room was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat slamming in my ears.
Then Brittany smiled — slow, warm, the kind of smile that wrapped around my ribs and squeezed. She stepped closer, so close I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, and before I could say another word, she leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to my cheek.
I froze — breath hitching, heart crashing, mind going utterly blank.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed. “I’d love that,” she murmured.
I blinked, still half-stunned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she laughed, giving me a playful shove. “Pick me up tomorrow at seven.”
I laughed, the sound bursting out of me like a dam breaking, all the tension and nerves and wild, giddy hope spilling over at once. “You got it.”
As I walked home that night — because there was no way in hell I was driving when my hands were shaking this bad — I felt like I could’ve floated all the way back to my apartment.
The cold air bit at my cheeks, the city lights blurred in the corners of my eyes, but none of it mattered.
She said yes.
