Friend Is a Four Letter Word by Steph Campbell

here’s the thing.” He saunters closer to me and takes one of my hands in his. Oh dear God, please do not let my mother’s hopes come true. “We’ve been together for almost a year now—”
    “Seven months, it’s only been seven months,” I say, desperate to stop this proposal in its tracks.
    Nolan cracks a proud smile. “Ah, so you’ve been keeping track. Alright, well, seven months it is. I just—” he brushes the hair off of my forehead and I go into an early state of hyperventilation. “Do you think you may want to try staying the night tonight, Shayna?”
    “What? Wow…” Okay. My pulse calms. So, not a proposal after all. Relief buckles my shoulder blades.
    But then my spine stiffens because I realize Nolan is talking about sex. Maybe not right away, maybe not tonight. But eventually.
    Up until now, the physical aspect of our relationship would probably put some handsy middle school kids to shame. I keep waiting. Hoping that I’ll feel something for him that I just don’t, but it hasn’t happened yet.
    “I don’t mean to catch you off guard,” he says.
    He looks me up and down, taking in every curve before his eyes settle on my collarbone. I can feel them burning into my skin. He reaches out and runs his thumb across the skin where his eyes have already seared me.
    I’d be lying if I said his touch didn’t feel good. It does. I want to want him, because, frankly, the release would likely feel amazing after so long.
    But it’s still a slap in the face to the promises that I made to my parents—and myself.
    My phone buzzes through my purse, and my heart leaps wondering if it’s Carter. Which is the last shred of evidence in the case against taking things further with Nolan.
    “Nolan,” I say. I clasp my hand over his own palm, which is now wandering away from my collarbone and, instead, teasing the straps of my dress into slipping off my shoulders.
    “So it’s still too soon? Okay, that’s cool,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking defeated.
    I could say yes. It’d make him happy, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’d said yes to having sex with a guy I wasn’t totally interested in. But that was my choice, and I knew I could walk away the next day.
    Saying yes to sleeping with Nolan would only cement this sham of a relationship I have with him.
    Because in my gut, I know it will never amount to anything. No matter how much my parents wish it so. The truth is, they tried to change me by bringing a guy into my life. And I let them, because I wanted a different life.
    But not this. Not with him.
    I care about Nolan too much. And for the first time that I can remember, I care about myself too much, too.
    “Nolan,” I say. His face falls as I take a step back away from him. “You are amazing. A really, really great guy.”
    “Ouch,” he says, cocking a small smile. “I feel a ‘but’ coming on.”
    “There’s no ‘but.’ You’re great. I love spending time with you. As a friend, you know?”
    The color drains from his face. That word— friend? It may as well have been a saber to the gut.
     

     
    I drive home in silence. No radio. No phone calls. The only noise in the car is the tick-tick of my blinker as I sit waiting for the world’s longest train to pass. I remember some cheesy metaphor my dad told me once about people being like trains, and though they may make unscheduled stops, they always arrive at the proper destinations.
    I’m the opposite right now. I’m finally at the place that I’ve feared most my entire life: Unmoving. Stagnant.
    I don’t want to go back to the way I was in high school. I don’t want the comments circulating around town again. I don’t want my parents to feel ashamed of me. But I don’t want this either. My parents wanted to help mold me into a proper Southern daughter, but I don’t know who this person is. The real me could just as easily be found in the church lost and found now, stuffed between left behind