“Me too,” he says mid-bite.
“So, are you not feeling the vibe of going out anymore?” I ask, glancing toward him as he chews.
He wipes his lips with a napkin. “It’s just not how it used to be. It’s exhausting and I don’t feel like I fit in with the crowd anymore.” He chuckles.
I chuckle alongside him. “Yeah, I get it. I feel the same.” I take another bite of my taco.
“It’s fine every once in a while, but Rya has been asking me to go clubbing more often ever since we got back from Vegas.” He shakes his head. “It’s like that partying opened up even more for her.” He pauses. “It’s weird.”
I kick off my heels, and the throbbing begins from the release of the pressure. “Weird. I know out of all of us, she’s the one who hasn’t slowed down like we have. But I didn’t realize she wanted to go clubbing more often now.”
He takes a drink of his Coke, swallowing back his food. “She hasn’t talked to you about anything?”
Squinting my brows, trying to remember if she has or not. “No. Not that I can remember.”
We haven’t been talking as much as we used to since we got back from Vegas. Sometimes I feel like she and I are in such different phases of our lives. I’m ready to slow down and she’s always wanting to party. It’s honestly sad because we grew up doing everything together. I always wished for us to raise kids together and grow old alongside each other.
He leans back, gazing at the people lining up at the taco truck. He looks deep in thought, like there is more on his mind that he is hesitant to share. We used to always share everything with each other. Given we were younger. Not much drama was there. Is there drama between him and Rya I don’t know about? She hasn’t said anything to me if there is. And she usually does.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
He swallows and lets out a sigh. “It just sucks when you’re not on the same page with your spouse,” he says.
I watch him closely as his body tightens up. “What’s been going on?”
His lips purse, still avoiding eye contact. “I shouldn’t say anything if she hasn’t told you.”
I shift my body, facing him. “Ez, you can always talk to me. I may be closer to Rya, but I’m still your best friend.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something and then silence spreads through the air. I lean back against the seat, feeling like I don’t really know Ez that much anymore. I mean, I know him, but we haven’t sat like this with each other in a long time. The only time I’m with him is if all four of us are together.
It’s always been us four.
I’m hardly ever alone with him. I get plenty of time alone with Rya but not with Ez. The last time was—what? Senior year. The year I started developing feelings for him. That’s probably why I drifted away from him. Feeling the rejection all over again.It just doesn’t hit as hard as it used to. Feels like it was just yesterday, though.
I take a small breath, thinking about what to say next, but nothing comes to mind. I feel a small pang of hurt knowing something must be going on with Ezra and Rya and it hurts to know she hasn’t confided with me.
“There they are.” I say, pointing up ahead.
Ez pulls more forward and stops at the side of the road, waiting behind a line of hopeful Ubers since everyone is leaving from the club. I’m sure they’ve been drinking.
Rya has her arm wrapped around Zayn’s arm as they both walk out of the club. Good thing I’m not the jealous type or else I would have made a fuss over her holding his arm. Since we’ve all been best friends forever, I know he’s letting her hold on to him to be a gentleman. Plus, she might be drunk and need the extra support.
The back door swings open and Rya slides herself in. “Hey!” she yells.
Fucking hell. I forgot how obnoxious people get when they’re drunk.
“You guys missed out on all the fun,” she says in a high-pitched voice.
I look over my shoulder and see Zayn ignoring my gaze, looking out the window as Ez drives off. “Hey,” I say.
He glances over at me and raises his brows once.
“Did you have fun?”
He nods and turns to look back outside. I shift my body back around, my eyes taking in the scene unfolding before me. Groups of people stumble out of the clubs, their laughter echoing through the night’s air. Some lean on each other for balance while others check their phones.
“Zay, what’s wrong?” Ezra says, looking at his rearview mirror.
