Yeah, we go that far back.

Far back enough when hangouts were backyardsinstead of the mall. When friendship wasn’t determined by likes and follows. Wewere real friends. Friends who actually love each other, and even thoughit’s not said, it’s felt. I know how Chantelle feels about me. She knows how Ifeel about her and we were always good.

Now, I’m getting married and I don’t know how she’staking this.

“Okay, then. If you’re excited, maybe I’m catchingthe wrong vibe. Am I catching the wrong vibe, Chantelle?”

“Ugh, why are you riding me about this?” she asks,laughing in an effort to convince me that she’s cool, but I know she’s not. Shecan’t lie to me. I know her too well. When I met Eva two years ago, myfriendship with Chantelle began a slow, gradual descent. I felt it happening.Did I do anything about it? No. I just pretended everything was normal, hopingthe issue would correct itself. It didn’t. We grew apart. We weren’t tight likewe used to be, and it’s all on her end, not mine. I didn’t expect that,especially from Chantelle. Man or woman — a best friend is supposed to haveyour back come what may – at least that’s what I thought. Chantelle is supposedto be happy for me. I want her to be happy for me. I don’t think that’stoo much to ask.

“What vibe do you think you’re getting, Samir?”

I shrug, then raise a finger to summon thebartender. Before I can ask for another shot, Chantelle grips my wrist, lowersmy hand and tells the bartender, “That’s okay. He’s good.”

“Oh, wow. I got moms with me tonight.”

“Call it what you want, but I’m looking out foryour well-being. It’s not a good look for you or anybody else to be gettingdrunk as a way of celebrating marriage. I never saw the sense of suchfoolishness.”

I cross my arms and sit up tall. “Had I known youweren’t in the mood to turn up, I would’ve just come alone.”

“Hmph,” she grunts. “You should’ve had a clue whenI said I DON’T FEEL LIKE GOING OUT TONIGHT. Remember that?”

“But you’re usually always in the mood to—”

“Yeah, but on a Wednesday night, Sam? A sister is tied.Not tired. Tied!”

I chuckle. “I get that, but tonight’s different.This is my bachelor party.”

She snorts a laugh. “Bachelor party? You’refunny.”

“What?”

“Boy, this ain’t no bachelor party. A bachelorparty is a bunch of guys out here hootin’ and hollering acting like wildanimals while they toss back an unlimited amount of vodka shots and tease youabout how you’re turning in your player’s card for one woman. Oh, andnot to mention the constant bragging about how they’re still out here bouncingfrom woman to woman and making you feel like you’re missing out on something. Thisain’t that. This is just me and you out here kickin’ it.”

“Well, in case you didn’t know, you’re the onlyperson I need to kick it with and I mean that.”

She looks up at me and I hold her vision as herstare grows intense. She glances at my lips, then back up to my eyes beforeclearing her throat and looking away from me.

What was that about?

It was definitely a moment, but why?