Page 12 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

"You came," Chloe whispered, her voice fragile, her blue eyes watery from all the crying.

"I came," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Sloane, I have to explain—Tyler, he lied about his father. What you saw wasn’t—"

"I know," I interrupted softly.

Her blue eyes widened, shimmering with a fresh unshed tear. "You know?"

"I know he’s a liar. And I know you’d never cheat on me, Chloe. I know all that, but when I saw you with him, I reacted out of fear." I took a step closer, the scent of her floral perfume finally grounding me. She’s taller than me in her heels, but she looks at me like I’m the only person in the world. I gather my courage, confessing everything to her. "I ran because I’m terrified of losing you. I love you so much Chloe, it hurts. For so long, I’ve loved you one-sidedly, never dreaming you’d ever love me back.”

“Sloane….” Her voice was soft, her hand reaching for me. When her knuckle brushed my exposed arm, I felt electricity crawl up my skin.

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking I was just the girl in the background, the 'safe' option, the friend you came to when you broke up with the boys you really wanted,” I continued. “You’re so radiant, so full of light... I didn't think I could ever be enough to keep you satisfied. When I saw you with Tyler, I thought he is what you need, not a scared introvert like me who avoids parties."

“That is not true, Sloane Peterson.” Chloe reached out, her fingers trembling as they laced through mine. "Sloane, look at me." I gazed into her eyes, finding love there. "You are a million times better than any boy I’ve dated. I like you the way you are, and it’s okay if you hate parties. I’m the real coward here. I didn’t even realize how much I wanted you for so many years. I’m sorry you feel you’re not good enough for me, because you’re beyond everything I ever hoped for.” She takes my hand. “I don't want the noise anymore. I don't want the guys or the 'perfect' image. I want you, Sloane. I want my best friend to love me back." She stepped closer, looking down into my eyes. “I love you, Sloane Peterson, and there’s nobody else I want. You are the only person I’ve ever really loved, and I want to take you to the ball. I want to kiss you in the morning and fall asleep next to you at night, I want to dance with you and tell everyone you’re my girlfriend. In five years, I won’t even remember the faces of all the boys I’ve dated, but I’ll always remember you. You are the one I’ll never forget for as long as I live.”

I was getting teary, hearing her spill her heart out. “It took me long enough to figure it out, but you’re my end game, Sloane. I don’t want to date boys anymore; I don’t want to go to noisy parties or pretend to be cool. I want to be with you, wherever we can be together. I was using them to keep from looking at you. I don't want to be the girl everyone looks at anymore—I just want to be the girl you look at."” She squeezed my hand, her thumb tracing the pulse in my wrist. "I want to make this real. No more fake dating, no more end-dates. Just us together. Will you give me another chance?”

My eyes were burning with unshed tears, my throat dry. "Of course. I love you too, Chloe Moore. There’s no one else I want to be with.”

She leaned down and I looked up as her arms snaked around my waist. Chloe’s forehead touched mine as she whispered, "Would it cause a scene if I kissed you right here?”

I found the courage that love had given me, and said, “Why don’t you do it and find out?”

And then, our lips met. I kissed Chloe in front of everyone, declaring what our parents had always known—that we were meant for each other. She moaned as I held her close, finally in the arms of the girl I’d loved all my life. The "fake" world we had built—the snacks, the scripts, the launches—dissolved, replaced by the kind of love I’d dreamed of years ago. It was a public declaration, and I never wanted to go back from it.

The music seemed to fade into a hum as I tasted her joy and her relief, sharing my own. Around us, a wave of hoots and cheers erupted from our classmates. I smiled against her lips, swaying to the music and to the taste of love. I pulled back just an inch, looking into her eyes.

“Caused quite the sensation,” I whispered. “Look at everyone taking pictures. Do you think we’ll be celebrities?”

She laughed. “I hope not.”

Chloe beamed, a radiant sun that I no longer feared would burn out. She pulled me back into the dance, and as we moved together, I realized that the architect in me had finally built something that would last forever— Love.