NICO

There's only one place on this Earth that I despise as much as my own home, and that place is Meadows Country Club. One would never think it because what kind of human could possibly detest a swanky private beach club with the most immaculate amenities and greenest golf courses? My kind of human, I guess.

A membership at Meadows costs somewhere in the six-figures and the elitist of the elite belong here. As a member of Meadows, we're allowed to bring one guest per week, and while my obvious first choice is always Bella, she declines every time. It's not that she feels bad about using my guest pass, it's more that she feels like she doesn't belong here, and I hate that she feels that way.

Unfortunately, and against my will, Brooks dragged my ass here. He insisted on a gym day in the fitness center, followed by cold plunges, and then lunch at the pool-front restaurant.

"You're slacking today, Nic," Brooks says as he stands behind the bench press that I'm sitting on. I'm pretty winded, so I'm happy when he helps me set the weights down.

"I just bench pressed 175, moron," I say as I slowly sit up.

"Yeah, and you normally press 200."

"I didn't sleep much last night."

"Again? That's the third night in a row."

"Yeah. You try living in the same house as my dad."

"He still giving you shit about Columbia?"

I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Amongst other things."

"Bella?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say in a low tone after I give him a nod.

"Shit, bro. I'm sorry."

"Whatever. Let's talk about something else."

"You know? It's a shame. Your pops has known Bella since she was little. He knows she's a great girl. Like wifey material. And the only reason that he's so against the two of you being together is because she's not like us. It's so fucked up."

"You're preaching to the choir, Brooks." He looks at me and I know that he wants to say more, but saying more won't matter, so I digress, waving my hand down. "C'mon. Let's talk about something else."

***

Bella, Age 11 / Nico, Age 12

I'm content. Truly content. Ever since I got back from sleepaway camp last week, Bella and I have been spending every day together. And today, she came over to my house so that we could binge-watch all the Harry Potter movies. We're sitting super close to each other in my theater room, a single cashmere blanket covering our legs, and while I'm tempted to gently wrap my arm around her shoulders, I refrain. I don't want to startle her; I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She reaches for the popcorn that's on the tray between us and I want to reach for her hand. I almost do, but then make it seem like I wasn't just thinking about it by reaching for the box of Sour Patch Kids instead. Bella turned me onto the snack last year and it has become my favorite.

When I asked Bella what she wanted to watch, I was surprised when she suggested Harry Potter. She hates being scared, and every time something pops out of nowhere on the screen, she covers her eyes with her hands. It's truly the cutest sight.

"You okay?" I chuckle when she covers her eyes for a third time, consoling her by rubbing her shoulder.

"It's not funny, Nico!" she says in a playful manner, but the redness in her cheeks tells me that she's a bit embarrassed.

"I'm not laughing. I think it's endearing."

She immediately drops her hand down and looks at me in a startled manner. "You do?"

"Yeah," I whisper, and then use this moment as the opportunity I've been waiting for. "Here," I say, patting the space to my side. "Come closer."

She dips her head down and squints her eyes at me as she stays in place. "Why? Are you going to try and make a move on me or something?" she innocently asks.

I laugh at her question solely to downplay my desire to kiss her and then say, "I know my limits with you, BC." Her cheery expression suddenly turns into something more somber, and I immediately ponder my word choice. "I'm sorry," I retract, "did I say something wrong?"

"Uh. No," she says, gulping between each word.

I can tell that there's now more on her mind, so I grab the remote and hit the Pause button.

"Okay...BC, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing," she states, chewing on her lip, which tells me that she's lying.

"Bella..."

She huffs, knowing that I'm being serious when I call her Bella. "Okay. Fine. It's not a big deal...but...you don't always have to walk on eggshells around me, Nico. I'm a big girl."

Her comment confuses me, so I genuinely ask, "What do you mean?"

"If you feel a certain type of way about me, just say it." She exhales, almost like she's at her breaking point and I don't know where the sentiment is coming from. She closes her eyes, and then, with even more emotion, repeats, "Just say it."

I gulp, but do it subtly so that she doesn't see that she has me in a corner, faced with the decision of whether or not to tell her exactly how she makes me feel. How she lightens up my life with her smile alone. If I do this, I'm putting everything that Bella and I have worked toward at risk. I'm putting our friendship at risk; I'm putting our soulmate connection at risk, and I can't have that.

So, I say something that I know will haunt me for the rest of my life. "You're my best friend, BC. A gentleman never makes moves on his best friend."

I close my eyes when I say it, hoping that she'll realize my words are a lie because I can't look her in the eyes as I speak them. But the stone-cold expression on her face right now tells me she believes every word that I utter. It also tells me that she wasn't expecting it. And I can't help but wonder why. Does she not see me as her best friend?

I notice more space on my side when Bella moves her body farther away from me. I don't understand. I could never be what she wants so why is she so mad? I thought she'd want to hear me call her my best friend, but now I'm starting to doubt that.

Dammit, I can't ever read her.

"Bella, I...," I begin, but am soon cut off when my dad suddenly enters the room.

He stands before us in a silver suit, his black tie in perfect place because God forbid this man can ever appear anything but the most put-together.

"Nico, son, did you not hear me calling your name for the last 5 minutes?" he condescendingly asks.

Bella's eyes immediately wander to the stairs of the theater room, where my dad stands, but my body is still facing her, too frustrated by the ruined moment between us to look anywhere else.

"Nico, your dad's talking to you," Bella whispers when I fail to look his way.

I clear my throat and slowly turn my head, only because she implies that I should.

"Sorry," I tell him, not meaning the word whatsoever.

"Can I have a word?" he asks me, but the tone of his voice makes it sound more like an order than a question.

"We're in the middle of watching a movie."

"Which I'm sure can wait."

"Nico...," Bella says, her tone and eyes pleading to just do what my dad says. So, I stand up. To appease her, not him.

I walk toward my dad, who's standing there, watching me walk to him with a glowering expression. He hasn't, not once, looked at Bella.

The second that he leads us into the kitchen, he says, "Your mother and I are taking you to dinner. Tell Bella your little date-night is over. It's time for her to go home."