Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
REID
Just me and Anni, going to the concert as friends. This is not a date at all. We are two cool pals, going on a friend-hang to a concert.
So, what if this will be the longest amount of time she and I will have spent together since our newfound friendship?
If she and I are hanging out, it’s for maybe twenty minutes, an hour tops, and even then, it’s because we are waiting for our friends.
This is different. We have an hour's drive to the concert and a two-hour set, then an hour's drive back. I release the breath that I’ve been keeping trapped in my chest and am suddenly self-conscious of the outfit I pulled together. I felt weird asking Chloe and Annika how my outfit looked, so I just sent it to Tyler. Who, by the way, I’m intensely suspicious of because this whole concert was his idea.
He seemed to approve of my navy chino shorts and a band tee.
I almost put on a new pair of Vans, but I am so nervous for some reason that I put on my Converse.
My security blanket shoes. I went against Tyler’s suggestion to wear white ankle socks and instead picked a pair with yellow and black smiley faces.
I figured it’s a concert, so why not be fun, but now I’m worried that I’ll be underdressed.
I pull up to Annika’s house and almost get out to knock on her door, but that feels too much like date behavior, so instead, I hit the horn on my steering wheel a couple of times.
A few more minutes go by, and I hit the horn again.
Didn’t she want to leave punctually? But then I see the front door swing open, and she hurries outside and over to my truck.
She is wearing a white high-neck tank top tucked into short light denim shorts. Her legs look a million miles long, and they go down to a pair of white Converse, just like the ones I have on. And she’s wearing some funky socks. I can’t help but chuckle at the coincidence of our outfits.
She has on a light green oversized denim shirt with little patches sewn on the shoulders and about four gold necklaces around her neck. She’ll need the extra layers later. Late August is still warm, but we are reminded that autumn is around the corner as the sun dips below the horizon.
Her hair. Whenever she does anything to that black shoulder-length hair, I go nuts. Today, she did two small braids on either side of her face with little green clips at the bottom. She’s so fucking adorable. I breathe out another sigh and chant silently in my head. Friends, friends, friends.
I keep searching her facial expressions to see if she feels anything else for me but push those feelings away. I don’t want to ruin this again. I fall too hard for her. Every. Time.
But she hasn’t given me anything other than wanting our friendship to be mutual, so I follow suit.
I don’t even know if I would make a move on her.
Not until we unpack our baggage. I know I was harsh on her in our last interaction, and I guess I still have a fear she will reject me if I wear my heart on my sleeve like I did freshman year.
She circles my truck, swings the door open, and slides in. I give her a nod, and we share a fist bump. Even though we are more comfortable with each other, it’s become our little handshake.
“I figured we could listen to the album on the way there.” I go to switch on the radio, but she surprises me and turns it off.
“I thought we could just sing songs to no radio, you know, like the good ol’ days?”
This makes me burst into laughter. “Good ol’ days? I don’t know about that. There’s a lot I don’t miss about San Diego, and the lack of a radio in here is one of them.” I glance over, and she shifts in her seat a bit.
“Alright, let’s sing to no music. I know it’s just because you love my singing voice.”
She looks up at me, her little smirk on display. “You are the worst singer alive.”
I start beating on the drums and singing Neck Deep’s ‘Parachute’ at the top of my lungs.
Annika joins in, and that’s how we spend the hour car ride. Singing at the top of our lungs, windows down as the air starts to cool down, drumming on the dashboard, humming along to the parts we don’t know, and feeling like this whole moment could last forever.
After standing in line for twenty minutes at the merch booth and each getting a T-shirt, and one for Chloe and Tyler, of course, we find our seats.
I leave for a second to grab us each a drink and come back to some tattooed shirtless dude chatting up Annika.
She is smiling at him like she never smiles at me, and I don’t know why that pisses me off.
I stalk up the stairs and approach them, staring the guy down.
“Hey Anni, here’s your drink.” I hand it to her and slide onto the seat next to her.
The shirtless guy pays me no attention and proceeds to ask for her number.
“Sorry, I don’t give my number out to random guys I meet. But maybe if we come across each other again at a farmer’s market or something, I’ll know its fate.” She shrugs her shoulders and plops down on the seat next to me, leaving the guy stunned in the aisle and me trying to hold in my laughter.
“You can leave now, bro. She doesn’t want to give you her number.” He finally notices me sitting next to her, grunts and shrugs, then walks down the aisle.
“Not gonna lie, it felt kinda nice, though. I haven’t had a guy ask for my number in, well, a long time.”
“You can do way better than a shirtless dude,” I say while taking a sip of my beer.
“I know,” she says.
The concert couldn’t go any better. Once the band comes on, we rarely sit and are instead drinking beers, singing, and dancing along to the music.
We feel so relaxed together, and I realize it might not feel this way if we were to try a relationship again.
We work so well as friends. It feels effortless.
So instead of overthinking every bat of the eyelash or nudge to my arm, I sing and dance with my friend.