Chapter 25
Lark
I lost my virginity.
Or did Harbor take it?
Either way, I’m no longer in the V-club, and I couldn’t be happier I waited to give it to him. I couldn’t have chosen a better person to spend my first . . . and second time with. My patience definitely paid off. So did his.
My friends complain about their first times, but you won’t hear any complaints from me.
My temperature is rising just thinking about last night.
I feel so good, even if a little sore. But all highs have their lows.
The person I would typically run to share my glorious news is not someone I’m currently speaking to. And that’s messing with my happiness.
I could spend the next week ignoring Amanda or even make such a stink that she wouldn’t want to even be in the same apartment as me, but fighting with my best friend bums me.
I start considering being the bigger person and reaching out to her. Just feels like I’m always the one trying to make amends while she rides her high horse off into the sunset.
Deep down, I know that’s not true. It’s just how I’m feeling. I asked Harbor what he thought I should do this morning when I couldn’t concentrate in class. He said, “Do whatever brings you peace.”
It’s good advice.
I text her: Hi, will you be home after class?
She replies: Only long enough to change clothes. I have to work tonight.
Be the bigger person, Lark. Choose peace. I type: Can we talk while you get ready?
There’s a pause, and then she responds: Okay.
I’ll take the okay and run with it. It’s not a no. It’s a yes. I reply: See you then.
I text Harbor right after: I’m meeting Amanda after class to talk.
Three dots wave across the screen and then his message pops up: Good luck and text me later.
I reply: I will. Love you.
His I love you comes swiftly after mine as if we were typing at the same time. I love being in love with him. Now if I can only get the rest of my life in order again . . .
Amanda’s usually scuttling between the bathroom and her bedroom, but I find her putting on makeup by the window in the kitchen.
“Hi,” I say, shutting the door behind and latching the bolt.
She glances over the handheld mirror she’s holding, and says, “Hey.” But then she slowly lowers it and rests it on the counter. “Can I start since I don’t have much time?”
“Sure.” I set my backpack on the floor and strip off my jacket to hang it by the door.
As soon as I turn around, she rushes me, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me to her like she’s grateful for the chance. “I’m so sorry, Lark.”
I drop the walls around my heart that I built on my walk home and hug her as tightly as I can. “I’m sorry, too, Amanda.”
She sniffles and leans back. “Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong.”
“I’m sorry we had a fight. I’m sorry for not having our girls’ nights. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” I start to pace but stop instead of wearing out the floor. “I hate to think that I caused you pain.”
“I felt like you forgot me, like I wasn’t important now that you found someone to replace me, like I wasn’t your best friend anymore.”
Leaning against the counter in the kitchen, I stretch my legs across to the peninsula and balance with my feet anchored there. She comes in and sits opposite from me, just like old times.
I say, “You have never been forgotten, and you haven’t been replaced.
” We reach toward each other and hold hands in the middle.
We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if she weren’t up for it.
I’m grateful she’s willing to nip this in the bud as soon as possible like I am. “You’re still my best friend, Amanda.”
“And you’re still mine. I’m sorry for acting so awful toward you. I feel terrible.” Her gaze dips to our hands, and she takes a breath. When she looks back up, she says, “I was jealous. You never go out, but somehow met a rich and gorgeous guy who cherishes you.”
Rich isn’t a quality of Harbor’s, but I have a feeling most people quantify as nothing more than his financial situation. I’m either going to get upset or let her discover how great he is, and that money has nothing to do with it. The latter sounds like the path to peace.
She asks, “What time is it?”
“Five oh five.”
Her legs drop, her feet landing on the floor. She leaves the kitchen and heads into her bedroom. “I can’t be late, or I’ll be fired. My manager has been on a rampage recently.”
I follow her but stop and lean against the doorframe. “I’m glad we talked.”
“Me too,” she says. “I’m sorry about the apartment as well. I take it that’s where you stayed last night.”
Memories of last night send delicious shivers up my spine. “Last night was . . .” I bite my lip and then smile.
“Oh my God!” Her shriek startles me. “Lark Summerlin, did you have sex?”
So excited to be able to share with her, I shake my hips. “I finally had sex with Harbor.”
She slams into me so hard that my back hits the frame when she hugs me. “I can’t believe it. This is the best.” But then she leans back suddenly and takes hold of my upper arms. “How are you?”
I finally feel free to fully embrace the change in me. “I feel . . .” I close my eyes the memory of how he kissed the side of my hip giving me tingles, and when he made me forget my name, I was only able to remember his as I called it out repeatedly. “I’m happy.”
Her smile softens as she looks at me. “I’m so happy for you.”
I start to giggle again. “I’m happy for me too.” I take her hand and give it a little squeeze. “I’m also happy for us, Amanda, but I don’t want to be blamed if you get fired, so shake a leg. You need to get going.”
“Dane’s giving me a ride.”
“I bet Mia loves that,” I say, sarcastically.
“Actually,” she starts, bending down to slip on her sneakers. “She’s been nice lately. Maybe she finally believes we’re not in competition with her.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I hum. “That’s interesting. Wonder why?”
“I’m not even bothering to try to figure her out. I’m just enjoying hanging out with Dane again.”
I move when she cuts down the hallway and grabs her purse from the peninsula. “Has he said anything about Harbor?”
She’s riffling through her bag but stops as if recalling a memory. “No. I don’t think he knows you’re dating him. I didn’t say anything because you know how he feels about people from The Pointe.” Swinging her bag over her shoulder, her arms go wide.
“Yeah, that’s why I haven’t told him.” I hug her once more.
“It’s going to be a hard conversation to have.” Moving toward the door, she says, “Hey, what are you getting up to this weekend? Will I see you?”
“Probably not. I have to work two events tomorrow—a ladies who brunch and kids’ afternoon tea—at the country club, naturally. You?”
“I work a double tomorrow, so I’ll probably come home and crash.”
Tucking some hair behind my ear, I lean against the counter. “We might cross paths. I’ll be back to change for dinner. We’re going out with Harbor’s parents. First time,” I singsong the last part.
“That’s a big step.”
“So was sex,” I say, and do a little spin. “But look at me now.”
“Gorgeous, dah-ling,” she says in her best uppity accent. Opening the door, she stops to add, “I’m happy for you, Lark.”
“Thanks.”
The door closes. I don’t rush for my room or text Harbor. I stand there a minute and look around. I’m so glad we made up and didn’t drag it out, but change is still in the air. I can feel it.
“How did it go?” Harbor takes my overnight bag and loads it into the trunk next to my backpack. I have a feeling we’ll be spending more time at the apartment now that we’ve christened it.
“All is well again.” I smile, moving around the car to the passenger’s side.
“Good. I know she’s important to you. I’m glad the two of you could work through it.
” He starts the car and shifts into drive.
Reaching over, he takes hold of my hand, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it.
“I have bad news. My parents need to reschedule. My dad had to leave town for the city, something about Loch and his team calling a meeting in the morning.”
I’m disappointed I won’t get to have dinner with his mom and dad, but I get it. Stuff comes up. “Hope everything’s all right.”
“I’m sure it is or my mom would have told me. She sends her apologies.”
“Tell her not to worry about it.”
He rests our entwined hands on my lap. “I already did, so that means it’s just the two of us tomorrow night. What about watching one of your favorite movies at my place? We can order dinner in.”
My weekend just got so much better.
Dane eyes me like I did something wrong. “How’d you get here?”
“Hello to you, too,” I reply with an edge of irritation that he’s putting his bad mood on me. I pull a tray of mini chocolate croissants from the rack and prepare them for the oven.
“That’s it?” he asks, leaning across the counter. “I waited at your house for like ten minutes.”
Shifting the croissants so they’re all angled the same way, I keep my eyes on the task at hand. “I appreciate that, but we didn’t have a plan, Dane. I’m sorry that wires got crossed. I’ll make sure to text you next time I need a ride.”
“Oh, that’s right. You have a boyfriend now, so you don’t need friends.” Low blow.
I look at him across the metal table and then rest my hands on the cold surface to help me keep my cool. “I do need friends. My friends are important to me. Amanda and I have worked out our differences, and we’re moving forward. I didn’t know you had such a problem with me having a life.”
“When I get blown off, I do.”
“Let’s be clear here. You and I haven’t hung out outside of work in a long time. Might even have been when you started dating Mia, so don’t come at me like I’m the sole person to blame for the downfall.”
Larry pushes through the door and comes to stand beside the rack. He looks at us and then says, “Get out there and start setting up the bar. Those ladies can drink.”
Dane pushes through the door with attitude, leaving Larry and me standing there alone. He asks, “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“Good.” He walks toward the door and adds, “T-minus twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be ready for whatever life throws at me.”
He pulls another tray from the rack and slides it to me. “That’s great, but will the croissants be ready in time?’
“They’ll be on the table at exactly eleven.”
“Good.”
I’m starting to think that’s the only word he’s capable of saying today. Let’s just hope today’s events go off without a hitch.