16. Not just friends
NOT JUST FRIENDS
JUNIOR YEAR
T hree weeks after SpringFest, everything felt different. Not obvious. Just… shifted.
Nairobi was no more; Spring had arrived at HSPVA. She had friends now, real ones. Girls who saved her a seat at lunch, who borrowed her lip gloss and asked her opinion on outfits. People stopped seeing her as just Cameron’s cousin, or an accessory to the boys.
She was Nubia, a member of the Justice League, and while that may have sounded silly to anyone outside these hallways, here it mattered. She had carved out space for herself. And yet, she was always with them.
Today they were doing their daily sweep of the auditorium to find her locket before class. She lost it the night of SpringFest when the crowd had pushed them onto the stage. There had been so many people on stage when it happened, it was a lost cause.
The boys wouldn’t say it to her; they helped as much as they could, searching the stage with no luck. None of them minded; it was part of the duty of being friends. Best friends – although lately Preston had been feeling there was more to their friendship.
He noticed it in the smallest ways first: the way she leaned toward him when she laughed, the way she said his name like it meant something specific. Brian noticed too. Brian noticed everything.
“You gonna say something?” Brian asked, bumping Preston’s shoulder as they walked the hall after another unsuccessful day of searching.
“I am,” Preston said. “I just?—”
“You just don’t wanna get folded by Cameron,” Brian finished, grinning.
“It’s not like that,” Preston muttered.
But it was.
Cameron was family; loud and reckless and protective.
You didn’t cross lines with him unless you were ready to deal with it.
And Preston valued his friendship, being three of the most popular boys in school – Black kids at a nearly all-white school with tremendous talent.
Navigating it became heavy at times, and they relied on one another.
They’d formed a brotherhood over the last three years that was unbreakable.
So Preston waited. Until he couldn’t.
They’d made their way to the lockers, killing time before class. Spring leaned against the lockers, flipping through her notebook. Cameron stood a few feet away, doing his usual motivational speech after another failed attempt at finding it. Preston walked up as he was talking to her.
“It’s been three weeks, Cameo.” She sounded dejected.
“We’re going to find it. What did Auntie always say?”
Spring huffed. “What’s true will return.”
“And she loves you with all her heart. You will get that locket back, because Auntie is going to make sure of it.”
Preston sat on a bench and watched. Truth be told, he’d helped her search for it the first few days after she’d lost it, and had eventually recruited the guys to help him.
He hated that they hadn’t found it yet. He didn’t want to think it was lost forever, but he knew some of the kids at this school weren’t to be trusted.
Still, the more he looked, the more he wished it was him comforting her and not her cousin.
He couldn’t be idle anymore. He stood up and approached Cameron. “Yo, Cam, can I holla at you for a sec?” Preston said.
Cameron turned. “What’s up, Supes?”
Preston exhaled. “I gotta tell you something. In private.”
Cameron squinted at him, then glanced at Spring. “Oh,” he said slowly. “That talk. Perfect timing.”
Spring looked up. “What are you talking about? Is this Justice League shenanigans?”
Cameron smiled like he already knew what was coming. “Sort of. And since you’re an official member, cuz, you gotta know, rule one is we don’t keep secrets from each other. So go ahead, Superman. You wanted to say something?”
Preston felt awkward and shrunk slightly. “It can wait for another time?—”
“Nah, it can’t wait. Anything you say in front of me you gotta be able to say in front of Nubia over there. League rules. So, you might as well get what you want to say off your chest.”
Preston clenched his teeth and looked at his best friend. He wasn’t afraid of him, but he didn’t want to ruin the friendship. Still, he couldn’t help how he felt. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and announced, “I like her.”
The silence was deafening. Spring’s pen stopped mid-page.
Cameron stared at Preston for a long spell, unreadable. Then he nodded once. “I know,” he said. “And it’s cool.”
Preston blinked. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said easily. “I’m just glad you finally said something, cause I ain’t blind. Plus—” he glanced at Spring, “—she’s got a mouth. She can decide who she likes. But you’re my boy, so I wouldn’t leave you out here like that, would I?”
Spring closed her notebook and walked right up to Preston.
She leaned in and kissed him – quick, soft, barely there.
Then she smiled, stepped back, and walked off toward class like she hadn’t just rearranged his entire nervous system. Preston stood there grinning like an idiot.
Cameron clapped him on the shoulder. “Now you know what we’ve all known.”
Preston laughed, still stunned. “I do.”
Cameron’s smile faded just enough to be serious. “But I gotta tell you, Supes – if you break her heart, it’s Batman vs. Superman, and I’m gonna kick your ass. You my boy and all, but that’s family.”
Preston nodded. “I’m not worried about that.”
Cameron smirked. “I know. That’s why I’m not worried about beating you down.”
Preston shoved his best friend as he watched Spring disappear down the hall, already knowing he wasn’t alone in how he was feeling – it felt good. Right.
The hallway had thinned out after the bell, lockers slamming shut, voices fading into classrooms. Cameron had already peeled off, Brian yelling something dumb over his shoulder. Preston stood there a second longer than necessary, hands in his pockets, heart still buzzing from that kiss.
And then he sang. Soft at first.
“My cherie amour… lovely as a summer day…”
It wasn’t for anyone. That’s what made it dangerous.
His voice carried – smooth, effortless, filling the space like it belonged there.
Heads turned. A girl near the stairwell stopped walking. Someone whispered, oh shit. A phone came out. Then another.
Preston kept going, eyes half-closed now, letting the melody move him down the hall.
“My cherie amour… distant as the Milky Way…”
By the time he hit the next line, there were a dozen kids standing still, pretending not to stare while absolutely staring. Someone leaned out of a classroom door. A teacher paused mid-step.
Spring heard him before she saw him. She froze at the end of the hallway, breath catching – not because it was good (it was), but because it was that song.
Her mother’s favorite.
Preston finished the line just as she back stepped into view. They locked eyes.
He smiled, a little sheepish, like he’d just been caught doing something honest. “Hey,” he said.
She walked up to him, heart thudding. “Hey.” Paused. “That was… unnecessary,”
He shrugged. “Felt necessary.”
She grinned. “That was my mom’s favorite song.”
His expression shifted immediately, softer. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “She used to play it on Saturday mornings. Loud, like it was church.”
“I’m glad,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know that. But it makes sense because it’s always been the song I think about when I think about you.”
“Thank you,” she said. Then, without warning, she grabbed the front of his hoodie and kissed him again. Not a peck this time, but a real kiss.
The hallway lost its mind. Someone whistled. Someone yelled, Aye! Phones definitely caught that part.
She pulled back, grinning. “Now that was necessary.”
He laughed, stunned. “So I’m guessing I didn’t ruin the song?”
She shook her head. “Now, I don’t want you going getting a big head, but in my opinion, that’s the most beautiful version I’ve ever heard. You improved it. But I could be biased, being the muse and all.”
“And who said you were a muse?”
“You did. I knew you could sing, but you killed that, boo.”
The moniker had rolled off her tongue so naturally it caught them both by surprise.
He put his arm around her, finally living the fantasy that played in his head for weeks.
“You know they’re recording you, right?” she added, nodding toward the crowd.
He glanced around, suddenly aware. “That’s fine. Then let them see.” he said in his strongest Zamunda accent. Spring giggled and spoke,
“So wait… this your Coming to America moment?”
He smirked. Then leaned in slightly and sang, “She’s a queen to be.”
She let out a short laugh. “So what—I’m dark-skinned Lisa McDowell now?”
He chuckled, “Well… you could bark like a dog.”
She reached over and pinched his arm.
“You keep pushing it, this about to be the fastest breakup in history.”
“So, wait. That means we’re a couple?”
She rolled her eyes… then let out a quick, playful?—
“Arf.” He froze for half a second before bursting into laughter.
She tried to keep a straight face, failed, and laughed with him.
Then she pulled him a little closer and murmured, “That’s how it starts.”
He smirked. “With Stevie Wonder or Prince Akeem?”
“With you not knowing when to stop,” she said.
He leaned in. “You gonna tell me to stop?”
She smiled slowly. “Not today.”
Just then they heard an unmistakable voice. “If you two love birds don’t take your little behinds to class, you’ll have plenty of time to sing in detention.”
“Yes, ma’am, sorry Ms. Avery,” the pair said as they laughed and headed towards the classroom.
They walked off together, shoulders brushing, laughter following them down the hall – while somewhere, already, the video was spreading faster than either of them realized.
And just like that, the world had started paying attention.