Chapter 3

Sleepovers and secrets

Age Fifteen

I don't even flinch when I hear my window slide open in the middle of the night. A grin spreads across my face as I roll onto my side, and turn on my lamp. My eyes drift down to the black sneakers just visible beneath my curtains before they're pulled aside. My smile grows when I see Chris quietly drop down from the windowsill onto my bedroom floor.

His hair, soaked from the rain, falls onto his face, and he meets my eyes. "Were you sleeping?"

I shake my head and scoot over, making room for him in my bed. You'd think I'd be worried about my parents finding a boy in my room, let alone in my bed, but I'm not. Not with Chris. He's my best friend, has been since middle school. We've always been inseparable, and these sleepovers have become a part of our routine.

They've been happening for so long that I expect him to climb through my window every night. Sometimes he doesn't come, though. On those nights, I lie awake, my heart pounding in the silence, straining to hear his footsteps or the familiar sound of the window sliding open. Eventually, I fall asleep and wake up the next morning, the bed cold and empty.

He hasn't visited in weeks, and I've tried to hide my disappointment, but it's been hard. I miss him. I miss our late nights, playing video games, listening to music, and talking until we fall asleep. So, seeing him now for the first time in over three weeks makes my heart race. I've really missed my best friend.

Chris rakes a hand through his wet hair, glancing at the empty space in my bed. "I don't…" He looks away, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. "I don't think that's a good idea, Gabi."

I furrow my brows, feeling a sharp ache in my chest. He hasn't been here in so long, and now that he's finally here, he doesn't want to sleep over? What's going on with him?

"What do you mean?" I ask, lifting my head. "You always sleep over. I thought—"

I bite my tongue, the words catching in my throat. Not always. Not for weeks now.

Chris's eyebrows knit together in a pained expression. "Do you…" He blows out a breath, struggling to find the right words. "We're growing up, Gabi." When he looks at me again, his face is serious, almost stern. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to sleep in the same bed anymore."

"What?" I chuckle, finding the idea ridiculous. "Are you serious?" That's what he's worried about? Sure, we're not kids anymore, and we're growing up, but that shouldn't change anything between us. "Chris, it's not like something's going to happen with us," I say, scrunching my nose at the thought. "We're just friends."

Chris's jaw tightens as he looks at me. I watch the muscle in his jaw twitch as he grinds his teeth. His features are more defined than I remember. He's grown too, I guess. Bigger, taller, more muscular.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice strained, as he glances at the empty space beside me on the bed.

"Yes," I assure him, rolling my eyes. He's being ridiculous. Nothing's going to change just because we're getting older. He's my best friend. He'll always be my best friend. "Now come in, please," I say with a groan, lying back down on my pillow. "I need your cuddles."

Chris lets out a sigh, tugging at the strands of hair at his nape. He closes his eyes for a moment, and I frown, realizing how much this is bothering him. But when he opens his eyes again, he lets out a breath and kicks off his shoes. "Fine," he says, pulling off his light gray hoodie, which is covered in wet patches from the rain.

My eyes drift to the sliver of his stomach that peeks out when he pulls his hoodie off, and my body warms unexpectedly.

"Move over," he mutters.

I snap out of it, glancing up at Chris, now in a black long-sleeve t-shirt, his jeans still on. I open my mouth to ask if he's going to take his jeans off but decide against it after our earlier conversation.

I move back, giving him space to climb into the bed. Once he settles in, I snuggle up against him, laying my head on his chest. My ear presses against his heart, which is racing out of control, and I snuggle closer.

His hand reaches over and begins to rub my back. God , I really missed this. I really missed him. A soft sigh escapes my lips as he continues to stroke up and down my back, his touch calming.

"Are you…" His voice catches, so he clears his throat, trying again. "Are you sure it's fine?" he asks.

"Yes," I assure him. "More than fine." I snuggle closer, feeling the warmth of his body. "You're so warm and comfortable," I mumble into his chest, the beat of his heart under my ear as I hold onto him tightly. "I feel safe here, with you."

Chris lets out a breath, his body relaxing a little more against mine. His hand continues its soothing motion on my back, and I can feel the tension gradually leaving his muscles as the rain continues to patter softly against the window.

"I feel safe with you, too," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

My chest warms, and I can't help but smile against him. I like that. I like that he feels safe with me because he's the only person I feel truly safe with. And that's why I want to tell him.

He hasn't been over in so long, and when we're at school, there's never a right moment to say it. So, I've just kept it bottled up inside of me, and it's been eating me alive. But now, with him here, I feel like maybe I can finally tell him.

"I did it," I blurt out, and squeeze my eyes closed, bracing for his reaction.

"Did what?" Chris asks, his hand on my back stilling. "You mean you watched the new Channing Tatum movie without me? Because I'm kinda glad. I really don't get what you see in him."

I let out a laugh, because first of all, he's so wrong. "No. Not that," I say, lifting my head to meet his eyes, and swallow down the nerves, shaking my head. "I… I lost my virginity."

Chris freezes, his eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, neither of us moves. "You…" He swallows hard. "You did?"

"Yeah," I confirm quietly.

"When?" Chris asks, his voice slightly strained.

"A few weeks ago."

"A few…" He closes his eyes briefly, a heavy sigh escaping him. "With who?"

I twist out of his hold, sitting up in bed, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not," he insists, sitting up beside me. "I just…" He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, clearly struggling for words. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

His eyes widen a little in surprise. "What?"

"You haven't been over in weeks, Chris," I point out, my eyes dropping to my lap when he swallows harshly. "When could I have told you?"

"I don't know," he replies with a shrug. "At school."

"This isn't the sort of thing I blurt out between classes. I wanted to talk to you," I admit quietly.

His eyes meet mine, and I can't figure out his expression. I hate not knowing what he's thinking. "Who was it with?" he asks.

"Andrew."

Chris lets out a scoff, arching a brow at me. "Seriously?"

"Hey," I chuckle, tossing a pillow at him.

He laughs when it hits his chest. "I mean… you could have done better."

"Yeah," I say with a sigh, lying back on Chris's chest and look up at the ceiling.

"How was it? Was it everything you wanted it to be?" he asks.

I twist my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "You really want to know?" Chris is acting weird about this whole situation, and I can't figure out why.

"Sure," he says with a sigh. "Why not?"

"It was…" I trail off, wrinkling my nose as I think back on it. "Weird."

"Weird?" Chris quirks an eyebrow, an amused look in his eyes.

I nod against him, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. "Yeah. He was just so stiff, and smelled like cheese."

Chris's chest shakes with laughter. "Sounds like a night to remember," he says, the laughter slowly dying down as a thoughtful silence settles between us. "Do you regret it?" he finally asks after a few minutes.

"I guess it's too early to tell," I admit, a shrug lifting my shoulder. Andrew wasn't exactly the best, but we were both pretty nervous. I wonder if anyone actually enjoys their first time. Maybe if I waited for someone I really cared about, it would've been different. But right now, I can't think of anyone I really like. Not like—

Interrupting my thoughts, I turn my head to meet Chris' gaze. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he replies.

"Any girls?" I ask him, a little unsure why I'm bringing this up. Chris has never really talked about that part of his life, and I can't shake the curiosity about whether he's ever been with someone or if he even likes anyone.

"No, Gabi," Chris says, his eyes locked on mine. "There are no girls."

"None?" I furrow my brows, surprised. "Any boys then?"

He holds my eyes, and I suck in a breath. I recently came out to him, and told him I think I'm bisexual. I'm still figuring it out. I know I find girls attractive, but I've never been with one. I haven't really been with anyone except for Andrew. It's all so confusing, and I kept it a secret for so long. When I finally told Chris, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. He was so supportive, just like I knew he would be.

But maybe he's been holding out on me too. I find my answer when he shakes his head.

"Girls," he reaffirms with a smirk. "And there's no one."

"Not even Taylor?" I tease, wagging my eyebrows at him. "You know, I think she's into you." I've noticed her looking at him all the time, smiling in his direction. Sometimes, it hurts a little in my chest when I see them together. I don't even know why. I mean, I know he'll always be my best friend no matter who he dates, but… I don't really like seeing him with anyone but me.

"Yeah, well," he sighs, "I'm not into her."

My shoulders drop in relief. I don't know why I like hearing him say that. My stomach settles, and I drop my head onto his chest again, wrapping my arms around him.

"You know you can tell me, though, right?" I mumble against his chest. "If you like anyone. I won't judge you."

His chest moves as he blows air from his nose. "I know, Gabi."

A smile spreads across my face, and I let myself close my eyes, appreciating that Chris is here now, even if he hasn't been in a while. I always sleep better when he's here.

He feels safe, warm, kind. Everything I need.

But that sense of safety vanishes at the sound of a plate shattering, a gasp catching in my throat. I tense, clutching onto Chris as his grip tightens around me.

The door swings open, and my stomach twists. I hold onto Chris desperately, but when I see my sister's face peering through the doorway, I relax my hold on him.

She narrows her eyes at us. "He needs to leave."

"No."

"He shouldn't even be in your room. Or in your bed." Her eyes narrow further. "If dad found out—"

"Don't be weird. He's my best friend," I interrupt. "Nothing like that will ever happen between us," I tell my sister. "Girls can be friends with guys, you know."

I haven't told my sister about my sexuality, but I know she'd have my back. She trusted me enough to tell me she's gay a few years ago, and she made me swear not to tell anyone else, especially Dad. I've never seen her that scared, which makes me freak out about how Dad would react if he knew about me.

She rolls her eyes, but her shoulders tense when another cry comes from downstairs. "Gabi. He needs to leave," she repeats.

"No," I say, firmly, clinging to Chris like a lifeline. "He's heard them before. I don't keep anything from him." Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, but I hold my sister's gaze. "I need him here with me. He's not going anywhere."

She lets out a sigh. "Then stay in your room," she instructs. "And don't let dad find him."

When she closes the door, I sit up in bed, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "I hate him," I mutter through clenched teeth as the sound of my mom crying echoes through the house. "I wish she would just leave him."

"I know," Chris murmurs, reaching out for me. He cups my face with both of his hands. "Trust me. I know."

Another loud noise pierces the air, followed by more crying, and I rip off the covers, jumping out of bed. "I can't just sit here and let him—"

"Gabi, stop," Chris whisper-yells before I reach the door. "Your sister told you to stay here. You know it'll just make him worse."

I shake my head, my eyes fixed on the door. "I can't keep letting him get away with this."

"And I can't let him hurt you," he says, his voice closer now. I feel him standing right behind me, his hand grabbing mine and twisting me around. My tear-filled eyes meet his. "Either you stay here, or I'll go out there. Your choice."

I inhale sharply, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're not going out there."

He nods. "Then come here," he says, pulling me into him. I don't resist. I can't. I just let him pull me toward him, and I cry my heart out, drenching his t-shirt with my tears.

I hate sitting here and hearing their endless fights. I hate that he hurts her. I hate that I can't do anything about it.

My teeth graze against my lip where I still feel the scar from my attempt to stop him. I was too small, too weak. I couldn't do anything.

And I hated that feeling.

Chris's hands cup my face, his touch calming me. He's the only one who truly understands, who knows every part of me.

"It's going to be ok," he lies. "Come here. I have a new song for you. Reminded me of you as soon as I heard it."

I sniffle, meeting his eyes as he slips my headphones over my ears. The music starts up, and the melody wraps around me, drowning out the world's noise. All I can focus on is the song in my ears and the sight of my favorite person in the world.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he guides me back to bed. I nestle my head against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. He starts rubbing my back the way he knows will always calm me down. He pulls the duvet over us and I settle against him, closing my eyes, feeling his heartbeat underneath me until I fall asleep.