Chapter Thirty-Two Scarlett / Evan
SCARLETT
I’m pretty sure the first conversation I had with her when we met was about her birthday and what she expected on the day.
People either hate their birthday or love it.
Luckily for Wren and me, Kennedy is the latter half of the two extremes.
I’ve always loved that about her. She doesn’t half-ass anything.
And when she loves something, she loves it deeply.
When it comes to her birthday, or celebrating literally anything, she turns it into a blockbuster.
The only problem?
She hates surprises.
Kennedy has to be in control of nine out of ten of her birthday festivities.
She limits us to only one surprise throughout her entire birthday week, or else she’d go crazy.
It’s understandable. She likes when things go to plan, and surprises can often mess up the idea of something you’ve created in your head, and not always for the better.
Still, there’s nothing like the look on her face when she opens our apartment door to find all of her friends standing in the living room dressed as their favorite celebrities and characters.
“You didn’t!” she yells, turning around to us in the doorway.
“We did,” we say at the same time, laughing at the way Kennedy’s eyes bulge out of her head. She jumps into our arms, squeezing us so tight we almost stop breathing.
“You guys are the best,” she says, the corners of her eyes pinching with how hard she’s smiling. “Ah! I have to find a costume.”
Wren rears back slightly, eyeing her up and down. “You just have costumes lying around?”
“Well . . . yeah.” Kennedy beams before rushing off down the hall to her room.
I let out a deep breath watching our best friend basically bounce with joy as she runs toward her room. Wren and I knew the right people to invite to our apartment, so there’s not too many people here, but enough to make Kennedy feel like we’re having a rager.
“She’s going to freak out when the main event arrives,” Wren says, tugging on my arm like an excited child.
“I think she might pass out.”
Wren and I know Kennedy better than anyone. We know exactly the right things that make her laugh, and the surprise we have planned for later might alter her brain chemistry.
“You look good, Jennifer,” Wren says, bumping her hip into mine.
“You too, Barbie,” I laugh, taking in her pink costume.
My go-to Halloween costume has always been some sort of Megan Fox character.
The girls have compared me to her for years, and it makes perfect sense.
Wren, on the other hand, is the epitome of Barbie.
All blonde hair, bright eyes, a million cute outfits to wear. It was a no-brainer for the two of us.
Evan steps in behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
Wren’s smile doubles in size when she catches the encounter, and I’m trying to fight off the butterflies that swarm in my stomach.
It’s been a while since we’ve all been together, and especially now that Evan and I are dating I’m not sure how to act around my friends with the guy I’m supposed to hate.
“I’m never going to get used to this,” Wren says, wagging a finger between the two of us.
“You won’t have to,” I mumble, squirming out of Evan’s grip. He doesn’t take the hint because he grins at me, standing by my side and slipping his fingers between mine. “I don’t like PDAs,” I tell him, squeezing his hand back.
“Yes, you do,” Evan argues.
“I don’t.”
He raises his eyebrows, leaning back, and Wren snorts. “Scar. Seriously?”
I sigh. “You can hold my hand, but that’s it.”
“Whatever.” He kisses me on the cheek anyway, and I can’t help but smile. “I can’t believe you convinced me to dress up for this party,” he whispers when Wren slips away.
“And by dress up, you mean wearing a T-shirt instead of a shirt and tie. Huge improvement,” I argue, turning to him.
He huffs, and I laugh at his bitter attitude.
He’s wearing jeans for once, and the ‘Suck My Pianist’ shirt that he put up a fuss about wearing.
Mostly because he didn’t want it back after I’ve been borrowing it for months now.
“You look good, baby. Stop pretending you hate it.”
A dimple flashes on his cheek, and he hooks his finger into the belt loop on my skirt, tugging me into him. I loop my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to whisper, “You better get going for Ken’s surprise.”
“The camera I got her wasn’t surprise enough?” he asks.
Honestly, I think I was the one who cried when Evan turned up to Ken’s pre-birthday dinner with a vintage camera that used to belong to his dad.
She almost suffocated him by how hard she was hugging him, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen Kennedy this happy.
I just know the other surprise for tonight is going to be the cherry on top.
“Unfortunately not,” I say, ushering him back out the door. “Just get her gift here in one piece.”
He rolls his eyes. “You owe me for this.”
“I know.”
I turn back to the party, doing what I can to make sure it stays under control until Evan comes back.
Wren is frantically trying to turn down the music, but she can’t help but sing along when another pop song bursts out at full volume.
Part of me wants to go and help her, but watching her try to tame the crowd is prime entertainment.
Miles knows this too because he stands beside me in the kitchen, shaking his head at his girlfriend.
But when I join in, I slowly realize he’s turned to me and started smiling at me instead.
“Can I help you?” I ask, busying myself with making more punch.
He’s dressed up as a cowboy because it’s Wren’s favorite type of fictional boyfriend, and it’s clear he will do literally anything she says. “Scarlett Voss.” He whistles, shaking his head. “I truly never thought I’d see the day when you’re in love.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I mutter. We both know I’m lying, but Miles will take any opportunity to tease me when it comes to Evan.
He pokes me in the arm. “Dude, I already know you’ve been dating. You don’t have to keep pretending that you hate him.”
“I have to keep up appearances somehow.”
“You’ve hardly left his side all night,” he guffaws, pointing in my face for extra effect. “Your lady parts are singing for him.”
“Ew. Shut up,” I say, even though there’s no use. My face feels hot, and I can tell my chest is flushed without having to look down.
“I’m not going to until you admit that you want to spend the rest of your life with him and have a thousand blond babies,” Miles says, holding his chin high, as smug as ever.
He pokes his finger into my cheek, and I push him away, but I can’t help but laugh.
“See how your cheeks get hot every time I say his name.”
“Stop it,” I warn, and this idiot keeps grinning at me like an absolute loon.
“Scarlett and Evan sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” he singsongs, getting all up in my face. “First comes—”
“You are such a man-child. I will hire someone to murder you, and I can make it look like an accident,” I say as menacingly as I can.
I have no idea how Wren puts up with him on a daily basis because I’m this close to snapping his arms in two.
Yes, his bicep is the size of my head, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could do it if I really wanted to.
“Hey, Scar! I—” Kennedy’s voice comes into focus, and she slides into the kitchen in her costume, but she stops short when she sees the way I’ve basically got a knife to Miles’s throat. “What is going on here?”
Miles steps out from beside me, and he slings his arm over my shoulder. “Just two best friends being best friends doing best friend things.”
I remove his arm from me like he might give me a disease, and groan. “We’re not best friends, Miles.”
“Yeah, we are,” Miles says, slowly backing away from me. “And we’re best friends, too. Aren’t we, Kenny?”
Kennedy bursts out laughing and with an eye roll says, “Sure, Miles. We’re best friends.” He gives us both the dorkiest thumbs-up before walking out of the kitchen to save Wren.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to brush off every mushy feeling I get just thinking about Evan.
Kennedy grins. “You know what . . . It is.” She exhales deeply, her eyes twinkling. “I’m so happy for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“Have you looked in the mirror today? You haven’t stopped smiling.”
I scoff. “I haven’t stopped smiling because it’s my best friend’s twenty-first birthday, and I love her so dearly that I can’t help but smile at all times.”
“Nice try,” Kennedy whispers with a sarcastic nod. “So, this has absolutely nothing to do with a certain blond who has been trailing after you all night?”
I shake my head. “Nope. What blond?”
Kennedy laughs, throwing her head back, slinging her arm around my shoulder and tugging me into her. She kisses me on the forehead like I’m a kid and sighs. “You deserve to be happy, Scar. Stop pretending you don’t.”
I shrug her arm off me, straightening my skirt. “I’m not doing that.”
“Right . . .” She throws me an exaggerated wink before walking off. I don’t even have anything else to say to her anyway. One, because it’s her birthday, and two, because she’s right.
She’s so unbelievably right.
EVAN
I told myself years ago that I’d start saying no more often.
My dad has always tried to remind me that I can set my own boundaries and not agree to everything like I used to when I was younger.
I’d get roped into stupid stuff and take the fall for kids who weren’t really my friends just so I could feel included.
I thought I had finally grown out of it.
But clearly I haven’t, because since meeting Scarlett, I’ve found it increasingly difficult to say no to her. Which is why I’m standing outside her apartment with Miles and Harry to surprise Kennedy for her birthday.
Miles has his arms clasped on Harry’s shoulders, shaking him like he’s about to do a workout. “You have one shot at this, Hare-bear. If Kennedy’s upset, then Scarlett’s upset, and then Wren’s upset, which means I’m upset. These girls need each other to exist. They’re like . . . deeply connected.”
I snort, pulling his arms away from Harry and giving him a small smile. The poor guy has been put through the wringer for the past hour. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
Miles turns to me slowly, his eyes narrowing at me. “Oh, Evan. Sweet, sweet, innocent Evan. You have no idea what you’re in for, do you? You think you’re just dating Scarlett, but you’re not, dude. If she’s mad at you, they’re all mad at you.”
“That sounds terrible,” Harry murmurs, his Australian accent making Miles laugh.
“I’m telling you, it’s hell,” Miles says, staring back at me. “But you’ll get used to it.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, slowly turning back to Harry. He adjusts his pearl necklace and picks up the cake from my hands. “You ready?”
“Is this going to completely embarrass me?” he asks, straightening a little.
“Probably,” Miles and I say at the same time.
His cheek twitches, and he tries not to smile. “But Ken’s gonna love it, right?”
Miles and I exchange a look. “Sure she will, buddy,” Miles says, pushing Harry toward the front door as he shoots Wren a message to say we’re ready. He leans into me and whispers, “He’s so gone for her.”
I just laugh because the second he says that, there’s a loud “Everyone shut up!” from Scarlett on the other side of the door, the intro to ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles starts playing, and the door swings open.
I wish the camera I got Kennedy wasn’t slung around her neck because I’m sure the girls would have loved to capture the moment from where I’m standing.
Harry, or Harry Styles, I should say, strides into the room with a giant triple chocolate cake, dressed in a look that Wren and Scarlett described as ‘iconic.’ He’s wearing a yellow-and-blue polka-dot sweater vest over a white-striped button-down shirt, paired with navy-striped pants and red boots.
Kennedy’s face is priceless. All the nerves that Harry had expire the second he sees her smile.
She tumbles toward him, and he drops the cake into Miles’s waiting arms just in time for Kennedy to wrap her arms and legs around him until they fall to the floor.
Those two have always had the weirdest relationship.
They do everything a couple does without being an actual couple.
It’s strange, but apparently, they’re ‘just friends.’
Scarlett, Wren, and Miles stand beside me as we watch the two goofballs roll around on the floor as Harry does his best British accent, which causes Kennedy to shove her hand over his mouth to stop it because she can’t handle the way it makes her laugh.
“Who’s going to tell them that they’re in love with each other?” Wren asks, tilting her head to the side as she watches them.
Scarlett shrugs. “I don’t know, but it’s not going to be me.”
Wren scoffs, turning to face Scarlett and me. Miles stands beside her like her guard dog, wrapping his hand around her waist. “Isn’t it so annoying when you have to watch two people pretend not to want each other?”
“Yeah, it reminds me of some people I know,” Miles says, looking between me and Scarlett.
Neither of us denies it. We’ve been kidding ourselves for years that there was nothing between us. I don’t know how she didn’t notice before that I’ve been completely enthralled by her for as long as I’ve known her.
I’ve been searching for years for this feeling of belonging, this feeling of peace, and the comfort that everything is going to be okay. I just never thought I’d get that feeling with Scarlett Voss.