Page 175 of The Compass Series

HAILEE

H e’s coming home today! He’s coming home today!

Today was the day I got my best friend back. It was almost time for Aiden’s arrival, and I was ecstatic. Though, I was trying my best to play it cool.

I kept staring at the clock in my bedroom as if my intense stares would speed up time. Unfortunately, I didn’t unlock some hidden superpower of mine, and the clock continued ticking on its own timeline.

Fifteen more minutes.

He’d be home in fifteen more minutes.

The way he was cutting it close by returning to Leeks the day before our senior year stressed me all the way out. But at least he would be home in fifteen—correction, fourteen—minutes.

I’d even had him send me the link to his current location so I could track his drive from the airport all the way home.

I hopped out of my bedroom and dashed to the kitchen as a timer went off, where I had double chocolate chip cookies made for him.

There was also a lemon pound cake, a dozen brownies, and oatmeal cookies sitting on the counter.

I made all of Aiden’s favorites as a ‘welcome back, best friend, if you ever leave me again for as long as you did, you’ll have hell to pay’ treat.

I pulled the apple crisp from the oven and set it on the counter.

Did I make too many things?

Yes.

Did I care?

Not at all.

Baking calmed my nerves. Whenever I was overly anxious or overly excited, I found myself in the kitchen whipping something up.

I got that trait from Mama. She was the best baker in town, from weddings to baptisms to dog birthday parties.

If there was an event, Mama was the one baking all the sweets.

She was so close to opening her own bakery with Dad, too.

He was the brain behind the endeavor, and Mama was the soul.

They worked together like coffee and creamer—just the perfect blend of not too sweet and not too bitter.

We’d even spotted a location in the town square for the shop. I was certain that was where I’d spend a lot of my afternoons helping the family out, but that was a story for another time.

I glanced at the clock on the microwave as I took off the oven mitts.

Twelve minutes.

I was sweating bullets.

Why did I feel nervous? I shouldn’t have been nervous.

My armpits were drenched, making my white T-shirt equally soaked.

I dashed to my bedroom, ripped off my shirt, hopped into my bathroom, bathed my pits in deodorant, then slipped into yet another shirt that I hoped I wouldn’t sweat my way through.

I checked myself in the mirror and saw every piece of my mother resting against my face, from her brown almond-shaped eyes to her button nose.

Our skin was golden brown, which Mama swore made us glow like goddesses in the sun, and our natural hair—well, that differed a bit.

Mama’s natural curls were always packed with moisture and care.

They dangled perfectly down to her bra strap, each one defined and healthy.

Mine always became a big, dried-out afro puff because I preferred binge-watching movies on my weekends instead of doing all-day natural hair care routines.

That day, though, I did put some effort into my hair and made two afro puffs. I must’ve been feeling feisty.

I patted my puffs and shrugged. Good enough.

Each minute seemed to inch by as I lay on my bed, holding my phone over my face, watching as Aiden’s proximity grew closer and closer.

When it said he was right down the street, I screeched with excitement, skyrocketed from my bed, then dashed to the front door yelling, “He’s here!

He’s here!” so the whole house—also known as my parents—would know.

I booked my way to the front porch right as Aiden’s dad pulled the car into their driveway directly next door.

I wasn’t much of a runner, but you’d think I was running for the Olympics when I made it over to the car.

Aiden opened the door and had his big goofy smile on.

I didn’t even get a chance to really take him in because I dashed into his arms, pulling him into the biggest hug.

As he hugged me back, I noticed his hug felt a little bit different. My hands fell against his chest.

What was that?

Was that…? Did he…?

Is that a six-pack of abs?!

I pulled back away from him, completely thrown off as I studied Aiden. My Aiden! My best friend! A sun-kissed tan on his normally pale body. Contact lenses over his ocean-blue eyes. Arms the size of Marvel superheroes.

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh.

No. Way.

He got hot!

I slammed my hand against his chest as my excitement shifted into an unexplainable fury.

“What the hell?” I spat out. Don’t get me wrong, I knew he’d been getting into shape.

We’d video chatted, and I saw him on television, but seeing him in person?

Feeling him in person? He was a completely different person than when I last saw him.

He laughed.

I didn’t.

“Great to see you, too, Hailee,” he remarked. “It’s good to be home.”

Was…was his voice deeper than it sounded on the phone? Who was that man standing in front of me? Where was my best friend?

I clenched my teeth and wrapped my hands around his giant biceps as I released a low growl. “ What did you do ?”

I spent the remainder of the night annoyed, giving him the silent treatment.

Because how dare he do this to me.

How dare he come home looking like that .

“You couldn’t try harder to look unbothered if you wanted to,” Aiden mocked as he walked over to the bus stop the next morning for our first day of school. We hadn’t been on speaking terms ever since he’d betrayed me in the most lethal way.

My best friend got hot.

Like hot-hot .

I didn’t know how it happened, but somehow over the past year, Aiden had transformed from the chubby boy he’d been all our lives into some superhero-type guy.

He was tan and had muscles that could convince any person he’d been eating only chicken breasts for the past year while lifting SUVs for fun.

Aiden went to California for over a year to work on a television series, and he came back extremely fit and attractive, which was so freaking annoying.

Sure, even before his time away, he’d had some great acting opportunities, but he always came back looking like himself—a bit dorky and a bit chubby in all the right places.

He and I were one and the same in that way—both dorks and both chubs.

It was our thing! Dorky Chub #1 and Dorky Chub #2.

We’d had an arrangement, and he went against it the day he decided he wanted to come back home from his year in Hollywood looking like that.

Our agreement was a simple unspoken one: remain unattractive throughout our high school years so we wouldn’t be unattractive alone.

Then we’d spend our twenties entering our “glow-up” phase.

Aiden hated the term glow-up, which was precisely why I used it religiously to annoy him.

Instead of sticking to our ugly phase, Aiden spent the year falling into his prime steak on a Saturday night at a small-town supper club era, and he became unnaturally good looking like the Hollywood star he was quickly becoming.

What a jerk.

All I gained over the past year was thirty pounds and social anxiety.

I did start going to the gym with my dad for the past few months to lift weights, but I didn’t get the same results as Hercules over there.

Weightlifting helped more with my anxiety and less with my weight.

It was what I did when I felt lonely. When I missed my best friend.

It also made me feel somewhat like a badass, which was an added perk.

But it was clear that Aiden’s and my diet were quite different.

Aiden was also taller than when he left me. I knew it to be true because when he hugged me before he left, I’d be able to place my forehead against his cheeks. Now, when we hugged, his chin pressed against the top of my head.

Or maybe he simply stood taller because confidence did that to a person.

Were his eyes bluer, too? Gosh, I missed his blue eyes. At least those didn’t gain biceps.

Aiden cocked an eyebrow. “Are you still giving me the silent treatment?” he asked, nudging me in the arm.

I stepped to my right and turned my body away from him. He’d been back in town for almost twelve hours now, and I hadn’t said a word to him since I’d seen how he went from looking like Steve Rogers pre-experimental serum from the government to Captain freaking America!!

The freaking nerve!

“Come on, Jerry,” he egged on as he began tapping his hand against my arm.

I whipped myself away from his reach. “Don’t call me Jerry. Only my best friend calls me Jerry, and you are not my best friend anymore.”

Was I being childish? Yes. Was I being overly dramatic? Also yes.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he scolded.

“You’ve known me for seventeen years. Dramatic is all I’ve ever been.

I mean, seriously, Tom, this is our senior year.

You were supposed to come back chunky with no remorse because since you’ve been gone, I found twenty-five extra pounds to carry around.

You weren’t supposed to come back looking like that! ”

Thirty extra pounds.

I didn’t know why I told him twenty-five.

The subtraction of that extra five pounds made me feel a little better about myself. Mama said a number on a scale didn’t define a person, but boy, oh boy, some days, it felt like the only thing defining my existence.

Aiden was smirking ear to ear, beaming with pride.

“Why the smirk?” I grumbled.

“Nothing, it’s just… You called me Tom.”

Oh crap.

I huffed. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You did. You meant it because no matter how annoyed you are with my increasingly good looks and toned body, you still consider me the Tom to your Jerry.”

“All I’m saying is we had an unwritten rule to come back for our senior year looking fat and ugly, and you failed.”

“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but you failed at both of those things, too.”