Semua Bab When Best Friends Kiss: Bab 151 - Bab 160

My father, Colonel Larry Davis, and my aunt Ryan pulled into the driveway on Saturday morning, and Rosalie and I weren’t expecting it at all. We stood there, frozen in the doorway, Rosalie’s face a mask of confusion, and mine a mixture of surprise and a familiar jolt of anxiety. Rosalie, my older sister, had just come downstairs, her face flushed from her run on the treadmill, a towel draped around her neck. I, on the other hand, had been settled in on the couch, watching a documentary on particle physics, thoroughly engrossed in the intricacies of the universe. The familiar roar of my dad's Humvee was a sound I hadn't expected to hear for months, maybe even a year. He was a top military officer, and his visits were rare, brief, and always meticulously planned. He had just been here a month ago, a fleeting visit that had ended on a particularly tense note.Aunt Ryan, my mother’s sister and a successful sketch artist, stepped out of the passenger side, a wide, easy smile on her face.

After the weekend together, I had spent a great time bonding with my family. The surprise visit had turned into a much-needed reunion, and the tension that had hung over me and my dad was finally gone. He had left Sunday evening, and I felt a sense of peace that had been missing for so long. Aunt Ryan was still here, though, helping my sister and me get a head start on the party planning. She was a welcome presence, her easy humor and calm demeanor a soothing balm to my usually anxious self.On Sunday night, I was on the phone with Todd for what felt like hours, a silly grin on my face as we talked about our plans for the week, his upcoming football game, and the impending meeting with my dad. I had told him that my dad and Aunt Ryan would be gone by the time he came over for our weekly study session on Tuesday, and he was a little disappointed. But then I told him that my dad wanted to meet him at Nana’s birthday party next weekend, and the excitement in his voice was palpable. We en

Two days later, the quiet anticipation in our house was palpable. The air itself seemed to hum with a secret, a shared joy that no one dared to speak too loudly about. The day had finally arrived to pick up Nana from the airport, a mission that had been in meticulous planning for a solid week. The excitement was a buzzing energy in my chest, and I felt like a little kid on Christmas Eve. Rosalie and I had been up late the night before, our whispered laughter echoing through the halls as we assembled our arsenal of party supplies. We had picked out a huge, gold-lettered "Happy Birthday Nana" banner, a bouquet of bright purple and pink balloons so large they threatened to float away, and a giant card that was almost as tall as me."Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked Rosalie, my voice a nervous whisper as we piled into my dad's Humvee. The balloons bobbed and swayed in the backseat, their cheerful, chaotic presence a stark contrast to my anxious energy. "She's going to know somet

The final bell’s echo had long since faded, a phantom sound swallowed by the cavernous, linoleum-floored hallways of Daisyland High. A profound, almost sacred quiet had settled in its wake, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of just half an hour before. This was my time. The after-school stillness was a companion I knew well, a blanket of calm after the sensory overload of the day.My backpack, slung over one shoulder, felt curiously light. It was usually weighed down with the dense ballast of my own AP textbooks and the extra worksheets I prepared for Amanda. Today, it held only the ghost of that purpose. The final worksheet was done, the last concept mastered. The lightness was disorienting, a physical manifestation of the impending end.Each step I took was a step along a well-worn path, a trail my sneakers had memorized over the past two months. The scuff mark near the water fountain, the perpetually flickering fluorescent light above the history wing, the faint scent of citru

(LESLIE’S POV)The heavy door sighed shut, cutting off the sound of Amanda’s receding, frantic footsteps. The moment the latch clicked into place, the mask I wore for her—the one of simmering, impatient fury—dissolved from my features as if it had never been there. In its place settled my natural expression: one of cool, calculating composure. It was the difference between a summer squall and the deep, constant pressure of the ocean floor.I turned to Bethany, who was draped over the loveseat like a pampered cat, her phone held aloft. She lowered it, her eyes gleaming with the specific brand of bloodthirsty anticipation she reserved for my schemes.“Well,” I said, my voice a low, smooth purr, all traces of the threatening growl I’d used on our little mole now erased. “I believe that should provide the necessary… motivation.”Bethany snorted, a crude, unattractive sound she’d never dare make in public. “Motivation to have a full-blown meltdown, maybe. She’s a liability, Les. A walking,