I had two cups of decaf coffee, half a plate of top quality pancakes, and a whole evening's worth of weird flirty butterflies inside me by the time we left the diner. Dad had texted me to check in, and in the thirty seconds it'd taken me to reply, he'd shot a message to Summer, too, so we wound up asking him for a ride just because it seemed to make sense.
Watching Summer get out of the car felt like a super strange form of torture. I wasn't sure why I wasn't kissing her, or why I wasn't going with her, but-- oh wait, yes I was, because my Dad was right there. What had been a logical decision half an hour earlier had turned out to be a total disaster for me â but after the face-punching incident had set my expectations at rock bottom, I had to admit the whole night had actually gone a thousand times better than I'd thought it would.
Summer waved as we drove away. I waved back, then watched her turn and head into her house. I hoped she hadn't cut her night short specifically because of me, but it seemed like both of us were kind of over the David drama of the night.
Dad turned the radio on and fiddled with the buttons for a moment, but he didn't manage to land on a station that was playing anything he liked. So, instead of loudly, badly serenading me as we drove home, he made conversation.
"Good night?"
I smiled down at my phone and shrugged. "Weird night."
"Good-weird night or bad-weird night?"
"Good-weird," I said, after brief contemplation. I omitted some details as I elaborated. "We ditched the party pretty early."
"Probably for the best," Dad nodded, mumbling the words as his attention waned from the conversation so he could focus on the road instead.
I unlocked my phone and realized I still had unread messages. "Yeah, it was actually--" I froze, staring down at the texts I'd gotten. I'd forgotten to read them earlier, while I'd been fixing my hair up, and Summer had appeared before I'd had a chance to open them.
i think i'm over it honestly, david's a cutie but i don't need this. i'll patch things up with his messy drunk ass tomorrow and we can just kick it as friends
like, what do i need him for when i have you??
My heart felt like it'd just burst open wide, and unbridled affection was rushing into my veins.
"Actually what, sweetie?" Dad said, trying to prompt me to speak, but he couldn't pop the bubble I was in.
I was so head over heels. I couldn't even worry about how deeply, worryingly much I felt for Summer, because I was so thrilled by that message.
"Jess? Honey?"
I beamed down at my phone and locked it, trying to commit the feeling I had to memory. I'd always known Summer was my favorite everything. Study buddy, player two, amateur astrologist, french fry stealer, friend, person, but this was like I was going to explode with how much I liked her.
I mean, really, that was an understatement, because--
"I'm in love with Summer," I blurted out. My heart pounded, but I knew it was totally true.
Dad almost crashed the car. He turned to look at me so sharply that it made him swerve the wheel, his focus slipping entirely, but thankfully the roads were quiet, and he righted himself quickly. His reaction was hard to gauge initially, because I'd only caught a glimpse before he'd forced himself to stare back at the road to avoid any more dangerous swerving. But then...
"I'm-- stunned," he eventually said, and the big, blossoming smile on his face implied it was a good-stunned, not a bad-stunned.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he said, exhaling the word.
A long pause filled the car, while both of us looked out at the road. I felt so oddly content â like I was finally at peace with something I'd been in turmoil over all along. I smiled down at my phone, thinking about that last text Summer had sent; about splitting pancakes with her in the diner; about her resting her head on my shoulder; about how I should've known a million years ago that I was well and truly in love.
Dad piped up again.
"I mean, I'm not surprised that you're in love with her. I probably could've guessed," he chuckled, and I started to wonder why it was so obvious to everyone else â or at least, Dad and Nora â while I was playing catch up. "But I'm surprised you're saying it. That's brave, kiddo. Those are some big words. I'm proud of you," he grinned, briefly tearing his eyes away from the road to ruffle my hair accurately, so as to not accidentally smush his hand into my face while he was trying to have a nice Dad Moment with me.
We pulled into the driveway five minutes later, and I started thinking about how I'd tell Summer. I had to, really. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep all of this emotion hidden, because it was like it wanted to leap out of my body and tell the world. It was super gross, honestly. I'd never been so pepped up. It was like I had a little piece of Summer's electric heart somewhere inside of me.
I opened our text thread again after Dad and I had gotten back into the house. I was in the kitchen, waiting for my hot chocolate to get hot, when I figured maybe I should send something back.
I bit nervously at my thumbnail as I re-read the draft message for the thirteenth time. It wasn't long, or complicated, or high stakes. I just wanted to say the exact right thing.
you're my favorite.