All Chapters of When Best Friends Kiss: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

(TODD’S POV)The world had narrowed to the space of my living room, to the feel of Rory’s lips on mine and the soft, trusting weight of her in my arms. The movie’s credits were a silent, scrolling tapestry of light and shadow on the screen, forgotten. The only sound was our breathing, ragged and syncopated, a new and intimate language we were learning together.I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were still closed, her lips slightly parted and swollen from our kisses. A faint, rosy blush colored her cheeks, and a single tear track glistened in the dim light. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.“Rory,” I whispered, my voice rough with an emotion so vast I had no name for it.Her eyes fluttered open. They were dark pools, deep and unguarded, reflecting the same awe and terror and desperate want that was currently setting my blood on fire. There was no fear there, only a question, and a trust that humbled me.“Is this okay?” I asked, my thumb stroking her che

RORY’S POV) The sun was barely a rumor on the horizon, a soft, blushing glow seeping through the edges of my bedroom curtains, but the house was already alive with a particular, high-octane energy I knew well. It was Surprise Party Day. I jolted awake not to an alarm, but to the unmistakable clatter of pans in the kitchen, followed by the low murmur of my dad’s voice and the occasional burst of my Aunt Ryan’s booming laughter. A symphony of chaos was already in full swing. My sister, Rosalie, was undoubtedly in the thick of it, a whirlwind of organized fury. I pulled on my softest sweats and a worn T-shirt, and padded down the stairs, following the scent of coffee and something sweet. The living room, usually a haven of quiet comfort, was a war zone. Streamers in various shades of pastel were strewn across the floor like colorful, fallen ribbons. Balloons, some sadly deflated, were everywhere. My sister, Rosalie, was wielding a glue gun with the intense concentration of a surgeon, h

(AMANDA’S POV)The music was a warm, vibrant blanket, a cheerful hum that settled over the party and seeped into every corner of the house. Laughter was a constant, joyous sound, and the air was thick with the scent of good food and celebration. This was Rory’s world, a beautiful, chaotic, and loving place. And in that moment, standing in the middle of her living room, I felt like a ghost.My performance for Nana had been a triumph. The applause, the tears in Nana’s eyes, the way Rory looked at me with such immense pride—it had all been a temporary, beautiful high. It was a glimpse into a life I desperately wanted to be a part of. For a few glorious minutes, I was Amanda, the girl with a beautiful voice, the friend. But now, with the song over and the spotlight off, the reality of my situation settled over me like a cold shroud.Leslie’s words, a low, dangerous growl, echoed in my ears with every beat of the music. "You have until the end of the weekend… If you don't have something on

Aunt Ryan’s hand found mine, her grip warm and familiar. It was a comforting anchor in the sudden, quiet surge of missing my mom."You know, Bun," she said, her voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur, "I was standing in the kitchen earlier, watching you and Todd clean up. You two were just gliding around each other, totally in sync. The house was loud all day, but when you were together, it felt like your own little pocket of peace."I leaned my head back on her shoulder, feeling the solid, loving presence of my mom's sister. "He's really... easy to be around," I admitted, the shy, happy flush returning to my cheeks. "He just fits.""He does," she agreed softly. "And that is a rare, wonderful thing. You deserve that, Rory. You've spent so long carrying the weight of taking care of everyone else—your Nana, your dad, even Rosalie sometimes. It’s lovely to see someone taking care of you for a change."The words felt like a gentle permission I hadn't known I needed. It was true. For years,

The rhythm of my steps on the sidewalk was the only sound I could clearly hear, a dull, thudding percussion that matched the anxious beat of my own heart. I kept my eyes fixed on the pavement, watching the way the late afternoon sun stretched the shadows of the maple trees into long, distorted spears. Each step took me further from Todd’s house, and further from the comfort I’d found there, replacing it with a creeping sense of isolation.I finally lifted my head, catching my reflection in the dark glass of a parked car. The smile I’d forced for Todd was gone. My face was pale, and my eyes were wide and strangely flat. I saw the girl Mr. Henderson saw: a variable, an equation that didn't balance.The Unread MessageWhen I finally got back to my own house, the kitchen was a cheerful, noisy mess—Nana was listening to a jazz record while rolling out dough for a pie, and my sister, Piper, was attempting to braid our dog’s tail. The familiar chaos should have been comforting, but today it