No One of Importance

“¡Por fin!” Ophelia called out as she appeared at my side, swiping a napkin across her hands like she’d just escaped a war zone. “Sorry, the line was ridiculous. And drunk girls kept trying to braid my hair and tell me their life stories. I’m a magnet, I swear.”

I turned toward her, already smirking. “What took you so long? Did you start a side hustle in there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Just surviving. Some girl named Brandi insisted we were soulmates because we both like lip gloss and astrology. She invited me to brunch tomorrow. I don’t even know what city she lives in.”

That made me laugh. Classic Ellie. People loved her instantly—something about her spicy energy and unapologetic honesty. Average height but never unnoticed, she rocked her curves in a blood-red mini dress and hoops big enough to double as bracelets. Her dark, wavy hair framed her face perfectly, and she had that glow that said she knew her worth. And if she didn’t? She’d fake it ‘til she did.

“Anyway,” she said, peeking past me toward the crowd, “¿quién es tu amiguito?”

I raised a brow. “Who?”

She gave me a look. “The tall, dark, and I-play-guitar-for-therapy type you were flirting with just now.”

“Oh,” I said casually, turning back to my drink. “No one of importance.”

Ophelia narrowed her eyes like she didn’t believe me for a second. “Mmhmm. That was definitely a spark I saw.”

“I was just being polite.”

“Sure,” she said, dragging out the word. “Polite with dimples. Got it.”

I didn’t respond, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. I still felt the lingering warmth from that conversation. Teddy. His name hovered in the back of my mind like the last note of a song still ringing in the air.

Ellie bumped her shoulder into mine and smiled. “Gracias for coming out tonight, babe. I know your schedule’s been wild with that farm job and your whole… feral fairy road life.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said honestly. “Besides, I needed a night with my girl.”

She gave me a look, soft but amused. “You always say that when you’re trying to avoid the world.”

“And?”

“And I get it.” She sipped her drink, then leaned in conspiratorially. “My life’s a chaos sandwich too. Especially now that I’m lowkey in love with my boss.”

I blinked. “Still?”

She sighed dramatically. “Still. Every time he says ‘circle back,’ I want to climb him like a tree.”

I choked on my laugh, pressing my fist to my mouth.

“Don’t judge me,” she said, flicking her hair. “I’m a professional. With a crush. And amazing taste.”

I shook my head, grinning. “You’re a mess.”

“Gracias.”

We clinked glasses. And for a moment, the bar didn’t feel too loud, or too full of strangers. It just felt like old times—two best friends catching up, tucked into a sticky booth in the middle of Portland, surrounded by noise and neon and the kind of chaos we’d both learned to navigate in our own ways.

Ellie swirled the last bit of her drink in her glass, her bright mood dimming for just a moment. “I hate not knowing when I’ll see you again.”

The words hit a little harder than I expected. I looked away, watching the stage crew test the lights, the soft whine of an amp coming to life. “You know you can always come see me. I’m never in one place long.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can’t exactly leave my job to follow you across the country like some groupie.”

“I mean… you could,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

But Ellie just shook her head. “I miss you, Blue. And not just through I*******m stories and texts when you have signal. Like really miss you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Because I missed her too. Every time I passed something that reminded me of high school—bad diners with perfect fries, overgrown hiking trails, the inside jokes that still lived in the glove compartment of my van—I thought of her. But saying that out loud felt like opening a door I wasn’t sure I could keep open.

I shrugged, reaching for my vape again. “Now that I’ve hit all fifty states, I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time to go international. Costa Rica, maybe. Or Greece.”

Ellie’s smile faded completely. “So I’m not even going to get a vague ‘see you in a few months’?”

I hated that look on her face. That soft disappointment that she tried to bury under sarcasm and tequila. I wanted to give her more. I really did.

But I couldn’t promise things I wasn’t sure I could follow through on.

“You know me,” I said gently. “I never know where I’ll be.”

“You always know how to vanish, that’s for damn sure,” she muttered, and then quickly softened. “Sorry. That was bitchy.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t. Even though it sat too close to the truth.

The thing was, I didn’t like the idea of letting people down. So I kept things light. Casual. Uncomplicated. If I didn’t make promises, I couldn’t break them. And if I didn’t let anyone in too deep, no one could be disappointed when I drifted away.

But Ellie? She was different. She was the closest thing I had besides my parents. And part of me knew I was holding her at arm’s length to protect something… maybe her. Maybe me. Maybe both.

“I’ll try to be better,” I said finally, softer this time.

“You don’t have to be better,” she replied. “Just don’t disappear forever, okay?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

Thew lights dimmed, and the opening chords of a song rolled through the bar like a spark being lit.

Ellie leaned in close, the mood already lifting as the crowd started to cheer. “Let’s see if this band’s even worth the hype.”

I smirked, but didn’t say anything.

Because I already knew the moment he looked up from that guitar… I was in trouble.