When I think about it, Emmett and Kalani technically went on a blind date with each other. They knew what the other looked like, sure, but neither of them really knew the other any deeper than what they knew from when we all hung out because of me. It was just as much of a reluctant blind date as the ones I was sent on: Emmett only said yes to not be rude, and Kalani only asked him out to be petty. Neither of them really wanted to be on that date.
“Wow,” I say, “it looks like it all worked out for the best.”
A small smile crosses Emmett’s face, like he’s happy just thinking about his girlfriend. “Yeah, it really did. And maybe I wish I’d had the balls to ask you out in the first place, but I don’t regret the way it all went down because I really love Kalani.”
“Alotof things would be different if I’d stopped running away from confrontation and rejection and started telling people how I feel. But as you can see”—I gesture between the two of us in the small space—“I’m trying to work on that.”
“Yeah.” Emmett laughs his sweet Emmett laugh, handing me a cardboard box. “I see that.”
We exit the storage room together, each of us feeling a little lighter with those confessions off our chests. It’s good to have confirmation that Emmett actuallydidlike me back, even if I didn’t know it at the time. And sure, maybe if I had just come out and told him how I felt back in the day, or if he had done that to me, things would’ve been different, but I don’t regret the way things played out, and neither does he. Emmett is toogood, too rigid and by-the-book for my taste. As awful as it sounds, I would’ve been bored by him and his goody-two-shoes strictness and moral code, but that’s exactly the kind of predictability and stability Kalani needs. I think I’ve discovered I prefer my dates to have a devilish smirk, to know just how to rile me up, to be a bit more exciting, a bit more unpredictable, and, dare I say, even a bit more delightfully irritating.
Together, Emmett and I load our cardboard boxes with our projects from the year, reminiscing about each assignment and the design choices we made for each. It’s nice, it’s normal, it’s two friends talking about the work they’re passionate about—even if Emmett only took art to prepare for graphic design—and it’s not one of us pining over the other. But the entire time, he looks at me like he wants to say something, only to decide not to at the last second. I still feel an unsettledness in my stomach, and judging by the way he keeps trying and failing to speak, he feels the same. Emmett has always been my friend above all else through the years, and there’s still a question I need to ask him about what went down. I don’t want to ignore it for the sake of keeping things comfortable anymore.
So, after the fifth time he opens and closes his mouth, while I’m placing the ornate vase that I shaped out of clay on the pottery wheel into the box, I turn to him and say, “What is it, Emmett?”
His face turns red, and his eyes widen. “I . . . um . . . I don’t know how to say this . . . but the dates . . .”
I decide to put him out of his misery and ask what I’ve also been wondering. “Did you know what Kalani was doing with the blind dates?”
He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “You mean how she made them suck on purpose?”
“Yes. And the fact that she was the one who filmed me puking out of Wyatt’s car and shared it with everyone, resulting in me becoming a huge internet meme.”
Emmett slumps, regret etched all over his face. What Kalani did goes against every one of his do-the-right-thing instincts.
“I didn’t know, not until last night when she confessed to everything. She knows it was wrong, and she feels awful. She never meant for it to go that far, she just got carried away, with the dates and with the video. And I’m so sorry, Carina. If I had known, I would’ve stopped it. I didn’t even notice her taking the video while I was driving.”
Everything about his face and body language screams that he feels guilty, and even if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I’d know he feels guilty because I know Emmett. “It’s not your fault,” I say, but it doesn’t alleviate the look in his eyes or the slouch in his shoulders.
But his guilty expression reminds me of my own twinge of guilt, which is why I ask, “Did Kalani by chance tell you about how she’s been feeling lately? About feeling left behind and like everyone is leaving her?”
“Yeah, kind of,” he says with a frown. “You know how hard it is for Kalani to open up about stuff like that. But I know generally that she’s having a tough time, and we’re going to talk about it more tonight.”
“Okay, good. I really think she should talk to someone about what’s going on.” She’s clearly struggling, and even though she’s been awful to me lately, it doesn’t mean I have any ill will toward her.
I close the flaps of the cardboard box. “Well, I better get going before lunch period is over. It was good talking to you, Emmett.” And it was. It feels like I ended a chapter that’s been a huge part of my life for the last four years, and the closure is exactly what I needed.
Picking up the heavy box filled with the last of my year’s worth of projects, I turn without feeling like there’s anything left that needs to be said, leaving Emmett behind.
“Carina!” he calls, and I twist in the doorway with a questioning raised eyebrow.
He’s rubbing the back of his neck again when he says, “Kalani’s not a bad person.”
“I know.”
He perks up at that admission then asks, “Will you guys make up?”
I shift the box in my arms as I look directly into Emmett’s bright, hopeful blue eyes. Kalani, Emi, and even Jay, over the phone when I called him and told him what happened last night, have all asked me this same question, and it’s not until right now that I know my answer.
“You know, Emmett, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and while I hold no grudge against her, it’s best we keep our distance for now. We haven’t been true best friends for a while. Maybe in the future, when we both grow a bit, we can reconsider, but for now, we should go our separate ways.”
My answer deflates any hope he was holding on to, but he nods in understanding. “I get it.”
The five-minute warning bell rings, and I back into the hall. “See you around, Emmett,” I say, though my heart is heavy with the realization that I probablywon’tbe seeing him around, especially not after next week.
Kalani and I have been best friends for so long, and it’s never easy to let go of someone who has been such a big part of your life. But as I make my way outside, the sun warm on my face and the fresh breeze gentle in my hair, I know deep down that I made the right decision.
You don’t owe your friendship to anyone, and sometimes it’s best to let people go rather than force yourself to give your time and energy to people who no longer connect with you. And who knows what the future holds? Maybe Kalani and I will both grow and we’ll reconcile and be better friends than ever, or maybe we’ll both find new paths and new friends to walk them with. But either way, here and now, I’m making the best decision for me, and I’m proud of that.