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It was freezing and still snowing like crazy. The air sent a gust of wind up into the porch and congealed my bones to icicles. But I refused to take Adam back inside. Not with Mr. I’ll-kill-him-if-he-does-more-than-kiss-you still inside.
“There,” I said, sending my friend a smile as I huddled into myself, madly brushing my icy hands up and down the sides of my arms.
Though he still wore a thick coat, Adam curled his shoulders in and rubbed his hands together before blowing on them.
“Where’s everyone else?” I demanded.
It struck me then how close I really wasn’t to Adam. I’d always considered him one of my best friends on earth because of his ties to Bridget and Schy, but honestly, we’d never connected, hardly ever talked to each other. It felt awkward to realize this so suddenly.
“Bridge really misses you. She’s so sad.”
I blinked, wondering how Adam of all people would notice if Bridget was sad. Poor boy didn’t even notice when he wore mismatching socks.
“Well…” I started slowly, not sure what he wanted me to say. “I could call her more often.” Then I bit my lip. “Does she want me to call? I just kind of thought you guys didn’t want to talk to me since—”
“No, no,” he cut in, lifting his hands to reassure me. “We just…well, we’re a little intimidated, I guess. I mean, you’ve got a boyfriend now and—”
“But I don’t—”
“And all the Southeast people who comment on your Facebook page let us know how popular you are and stuff. We just thought—”
“Well, you thought wrong.” I rolled over him since he kept interrupting me. “I miss you guys. A lot.”
“Yeah, well Bridget misses you too. A lot.”
Frowning because this was the second time he’d said as much—mentioning Bridge and no one else—I stood there silently as he ran his hands through his hair, obviously distressed.
“I wrote her a song,” he blurted out unexpectedly, eyeing me with a hopeful look.
“Actually, I wrote it for her a long time ago, but now that she’s all depressed, maybe…I don’t know. Maybe I should sing it to her and see if that chee
rs her up any.”
Yearning filled his eyes and it finally dawned on me. Adam was in love with Bridget.
My jaw came unhinged and plopped open. “Oh!” I quickly covered my mouth with both hands, trying to hide the shock so as not to upset Adam, but I probably only emphasized it.
How long had this been going on?
“Oh, my gosh, you… Wow, Adam. Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was too stunned.
A petty, vain part of me felt stung he’d chosen Bridget. I was just as close to him as she was; why hadn’t he written a song for me? But another small part embraced relief because I did not like him in that way and now I didn’t have to feel all awkward and guilty because he might like me more than I liked him.
But for the most part, outside of the utter shock, I was completely excited.
Adam and Bridget? Together?
What a brilliant idea.
I loved it.
Looking sick with unease, he asked, “Will you listen to it? Tell me if it sounds like her?”
“Me?” I pulled back. “You came all the way over here through the snow to have me listen to a song? Why didn’t you just ask Schy?”
“Because you’re Grace. You…you wouldn’t make fun of me if it sucked.” His jaw tightened as he glanced away.
Everything inside me brightened, flattered he thought so sweetly of me. “I…well, of course I’ll listen to it. I’d love to. Oh, my gosh, Adam. I can’t believe you actually wrote her a song.”
