Page 30

I’m not good at talking, and Henry knows that.

Music has always been my favorite way of explaining my emotions.

For some reason, I’ve never been able to articulate things how my favorite lyrics can.

In this moment, I need to remember something good.

In this moment, I want to live in a good memory instead of the one from earlier tonight.

The other day, I went to Henry’s place, and when I opened the door, he was standing right in front of me, smiling from ear to ear. I have to admit, I was a little nervous, but when he sat me down, gave me a headphone, and pressed play, I knew why he was so happy.

For months, all I’ve done is show him new songs and artists he had never heard of, but this time, it was the opposite. He found a song I had never heard, and he was so excited to play it for me.

He hit the nail on the head. It was everything I loved about music. The production was dreamy, the lyrics were beautiful yet haunting, and all night, we sat there with our headphones in and did a deep dive into the artist’s discography.

It was one of the best nights of my life, and I know if I hear the song again, it will take me right back to one of my happiest memories. I fell asleep on his couch and woke up covered in a blanket, wrapped in his arms.

He squeezes me a little harder before grabbing one headphone and softly placing it in my ear, and I do the same for him as the music filters through our ears at the same time.

In the dark of my messed up apartment after the worst night of my life, I feel safe.

Here in his arms, it’s impossible not to feel that way.

As the music floats between us, I cry. I cry so hard, I can barely think straight.

I let out all the fear, all the sadness, all the terrifying emotions I felt in the past hour into his chest.

“What else do you need from me, Mills? Do you want me to stay over tonight?” He wipes my tears with a tissue.

“Just don’t let me go,” I say into his arms.

And he doesn't.

My phone alarm jolts me awake, and when I look around and see Oliver missing, clearly not watching for whoever broke in earlier, I panic.

My feet are moving before I can even stop them, and as I swing open Amelia’s door, scared she’s not going to be on the other side of it, I’m met with something being thrown at me.

One of her favorite pens sits at my feet as I see her body relax when she realizes it's me.

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Entering my room like that after the day I had was certainly a choice, Hen.”

Guilt races down my body. “I’m sorry. I wasn't thinking. I—”

She shuffles over to the side of her bed, her long legs swinging over. “Let me guess: you saw Oliver was gone and got nervous that whoever broke in earlier somehow got past you while you were sleeping and came for us all?”

“W-Well, yes, actually.”

She smirks to herself, but I can tell she’s still shaken up. Obviously, she is. It happened only hours ago.

“Paige was having a nightmare a few hours ago. I wanted to handle it like I always do, but Oliver,” she rolls her eyes at his name, “beat me to it. ”

“And he’s still in Paige’s room?” I had the weirdest conversation of my entire life with him earlier.

Not only did I get the feeling he hates small talk, but we also said a lot of things without really saying anything.

He told me I was a good friend for speeding over here for Amelia.

I said he would do the same thing if it were Paige, and then we fought over the air mattress until the girls came out and we pretended we didn't know one another.

Today has been one of the most bizarre days of my entire life, one of the scariest too.

The fear I felt racing over here rivaled the emotions I felt when I found out my dad had been hit by a drunk driver.

Terror, pure terror is all I have felt in both times, and I hate it.

I’m not built for these kinds of situations, and I hate that it’s happened to two people I couldn't live without.

I’ve never been so out of control. Paige didn't even tell me what happened, but in my gut, I knew it was bad. When she said something happened to Amelia, I could barely think. I grabbed my keys and threw my shoes on, driving way too fast to get to her.

“Yes, I would assume so,” Amelia says as she picks up her favorite book from her bed, returning to what she was doing before I got here.

I pick her pen up off the floor and hand it to her. “Here.”

“Thanks, Hen.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll be in the living room if you—”

“Would you stay with me?” Her sentence surprises me. “I know most of the time, I prefer being alone, but I don’t want to be alone tonight. At least, not now that you’re awake.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you, Mills,” I say as I try to hide my smile, knowing I’m failing miserably. Honestly, I’m happy she asked me to stay. I feel much better actually being able to see her and know she’s alright.

Well, as alright as she can be after what happened.

“Thanks,” she says as she shifts on her bed, making just enough room for me to slide in next to her .

“You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?”

“I always thought you were joking when you said that before,” she whispers, closing her favorite book. “But now, I know you’re being serious.”

“Why did you think I was joking?”

She simply shrugs, and before I change the subject onto something else, Amelia surprises me by elaborating.

“I’ve never felt like a person someone would drop everything for. I’m pretty solidified in who I am, so I guess I always thought you were kidding.” She fiddles with one of her pens as she locks eyes with me. “Tonight made me think differently about that.”

I shift closer to her, needing to be more in her orbit. I know she hates physical touch, and we are just friends, but I can’t help this pull I feel.

I don’t break eye contact as I speak. “Why do you think you’re not enough as you are, Amelia? Why do you assume nobody would break about a hundred traffic laws to get to you? Because I sure as hell did tonight.”

“I’ve always felt…different, I guess. I didn’t make friends easily when I was younger, and when I did, I wasn't ever anyone’s favorite friend.

I was never anybody’s first choice in any of the relationships I had growing up.

I should have seen that coming, I guess. I was never my parents' first choice.”

I sigh heavily as I reach for her hand, surprise coursing through my body when she takes it, squeezing. “Did you tell your parents what happened?”

She shakes her head.

“Amelia, baby.” I stop myself, because that term of endearment just slipped out without me thinking. “Why didn't you call them?”

“Because I’m fine,” she says, as if that’s enough. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

“Don’t say that. ”

“It’s the truth, Hen.” She swipes a tear from her face as soon as it falls.

“Steven has always been the favorite. He was born first, and my parents were actually trying to have kids when he was conceived.

I was an accident, the surprise they didn't want or see coming, and that stayed with me my entire life.

Steven was a multi-sport athlete growing up.

He was the popular one with a bunch of friends my parents knew by first name.

He was the academic standout—the one getting all the awards—and I existed in the shadow of his greatness.

Steven was the one my parents bragged about, and I was the daughter who couldn't keep friends. I was the daughter who couldn’t wear certain clothes because I didn't like the feeling of them. I was the problem child. I was the second choice to everyone and everything in my life.”

“Mills—”

She cuts me off, clearly emotional, and I wish I could take all these notions she has about herself away. “I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up about this.”

“Because it hurts. Believe it or not, you are still a human being, no matter how hard you try to hide behind those walls.” I grip her hand a little tighter. “And do you want to know a secret?”

She nods.

“You’re always going to be my first choice.”

The look on her face as those words settle into her mind might be enough to kill me.

She’s never heard those words before, but I mean them with every fiber of my soul.

I’d do anything for her, and she knew that, but I think this is the first time she’s really hearing it.

I think this is the first time she believes she’s someone’s first choice.

“Really?” she says as disbelief flashes across her face. “Because you know me, Hen. I’m a handful, and sometimes, my brain is so loud, I can’t figure a way out. I can be a lot—”

“Amelia Ellis,” I say as I grab her free hand. “You’re my favorite person on the planet, so yes, even when your brain is loud, even when you think you’re not enough, you’ll always be my first choice. No matter what.”

“Thank you,” she whispers as I wipe her tears.

“I mean every word,” I remind her. “If you ever doubt that again, just come to me, and I’ll remind you how much I like being in your presence, no matter the clouds in the way.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to balance herself back out after the emotional whiplash of the last few hours.

“Do you want to know something?” she asks me, her voice lower.

“Always.”

“You’re my first choice too.”

“Is that so?” I say, my tone playful so she doesn't feel as awkward.

Another nod, her curly hair moving around the bandage on her head. “When Paige asked me if I needed anything earlier, I didn't even hesitate to ask for you.”

Her candor surprises me. Tonight has opened my eyes more and more to what Amelia and I are to one another. Well, I always knew what she was to me—everything—but I’m starting to understand I might be the same for her.

“I’m glad you did,” I say as I hold my arms out for her. She turns, her body sliding right into my arms as I close them around her. “Now, try and get some sleep. I’ll be here, so you’ll be safe.”

Another nod. “I know, Hen. I think I’ll always feel safe with you.”

I reach for her lamp and turn it to the dimmest setting as she adjusts how she’s sleeping against me, getting more comfortable in my arms, as if she’s always belonged here.

If it were up to me, she would always be.

Because to me, Amelia Ellis is the brightest star in the galaxy. To me, she’s a book I never want to put down. To me, she’ll always be the girl who stole my attention that day at the concert, and since then, I haven't wanted to look at anything else but her.

And if she’ll let me, she’ll never know what it feels like to be anybody’s second choice ever again.