Harlee

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The night ended on a high note.

After milkshakes, James and I rode home. Then we tried to figure out just how we'd climb back into our rooms without waking our families.

After a bit of deliberating, we resolved climbing up the way we came down was the only way. We knew it might result in disaster but felt we didn't really have any other options.

James came up with an idea for me to stand up on his bike seat as he held it steady to make the climb up smoother. But since I would be up in my room unable to do the same for him, that plan did not sit well with me.

I wasn't about to risk him falling and hurting himself either, so I was ready to call it quits and call our parents to confess.

Then I got an idea based on something I'd seen in a Starstreamflix spy movie and decided to use some of the bobby pins I had in my hair to get us both inside. A couple of Newtube tutorials later, both James' and my front door were unlocked.

Although I had unlocked his door first, James, being his cautious and protective self, refused to enter his house until I was in mine. So I was the first one to go inside. Before I could walk in, though, James seemed like he had something else he wanted to tell me.

"Good luck not getting caught," he'd said whilst squeezing my hand gently.

I had a feeling he had wanted to say more than that. But it was late, and I didn't know if my hunch was correct, so I didn't press it.

I went inside and locked the door then went upstairs quietly. After checking to make sure my parents were still asleep (which they thankfully were), I returned to my bedroom and untied my sheet from my bedpost.

After putting it back on my bed, I went to let my blinds down and close my window but waited until I saw my best friend enter his bedroom to do so. Once he had, I gave him a wave, then closed my window and shutters; I changed into my pajamas next; then replied to James' goodnight text; then finally got back to my photo album.

I smiled at the photo of James and me clinking our milkshakes together on my phone. I'd been looking at it over and over again that night.

My smile grew even bigger when I recalled that James had said we should make midnight milkshakes a tradition when we were old enough to drive. That filled me with even more hope that this definitely wasn't our last night as friends. In fact, it was probably the first night of the rebirth of our friendship.

"This is the perfect photo to close the album with," I smiled to myself as I uploaded the new photo of us to my laptop.

Afterward, I printed it off and put it in the photo album, making it complete.

I couldn't wait to give it to him the next day.

"Harlee, wake up," a female voice called out to me, waking me from my slumber.

I opened my eyes to see the sun peering into my window, and my mom sitting on the edge of my bed. She was dressed in casual clothes instead of work ones, and I wondered if I'd gotten my days mixed up or something.

"Did I miss something?" I yawned. "Is there a reason you're waking me up early in the summertime?"

"Early? It's nearly one; you slept so late I almost thought you had a fever," Mom responded, brushing some hair out of my face. "But then I figured you were probably just tired from all that fun at the amusement park."

Yeah, and from climbing out my window at midnight, I thought.

I stared into my mom's eyes to see if I could find any trace of suspicion in them. None was there. They really had slept through the entire escapade.

"Yeah, probably." I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

I noticed she was holding James' and my photo album in her lap gingerly.

She noticed me looking at it, then smiled down at the album and said, "This almost brought me to tears."

"Uh, why?" I asked her although I could relate.

The nostalgia of all those photos had nearly brought me to tears as well.

Mom sighed and turned one of the pages.

"Just seeing how much you've grown up. It is so weird for me that I'm about to have a teenager at the end of the week."

"Stop, Mom, you'll make us both feel old," I joked.

She laughed at me as she continued flipping through the book.

"This is quite the stroll down memory lane, huh? I remember taking a lot of these pictures." She flipped to the last page and stopped on it.

"But I don't remember taking you two to the Dairy Jester yesterday before the amusement park," she said, staring at the date I'd written beneath the Dairy Jester photo curiously. "Did you two go early in the morning?" she asked.

"Uh yeah, we went early in the morning," I mumbled.

Just way earlier than you'd have approved of, I thought, starting to feel guilty.

"I must have still been asleep," she brushed it off, closing the book of memories up.

"Yup," I said, relieved to close the subject and the photo album.

I decided I should probably tell Mom the truth behind the photo someday.

Just not that particular day.

"Well, get up and get dressed; I'm taking you to the water park today," she said, handing the album to me.

"Wait, is that why you didn't go to work?" I asked her.

"Yup, this time, they are truly letting me off," she said. "I'm all yours for the day."

More guilt overwhelmed me.

It was like she low-key knew what I'd done and was trying to get me to confess or something.

"Mom, you didn't have to do that," I said to her. "You just took us out yesterday."

"I know, but I wanted to. I know you were disappointed you couldn't go last week, so I'm taking you today. Don't worry about it; I'm glad to take the day off," she assured me. "I'm downstairs making breakfast; hurry up and get ready, so you can go invite James to come with us. I want to get there early, so we don't have to wait in those awful lines." She headed back downstairs shortly after that.

I felt both guilty and excited. I felt guilty because of how she was spoiling me after I'd done something so dangerous behind her back.

But I felt excited because now, I had two surprises for James that day.

I bolted from my bed to head over to his house.

The guilt would have to wait.

I took a shower and got dressed for the day at light speed. I stuffed my swimsuit into my bag hurriedly and then glanced at the curling iron in my drawer.

Part of me wanted to curl my hair again, but then I decided it wouldn't make much sense to curl my hair when it was about to be drenched at a water park. I simply pulled it into a messy bun instead.

Once dressed, I grabbed the photo album off my bed and raced downstairs.

"Breakfast is ready, Harlee!" Mom called out to me as I rushed past her.

"Be right back!" I yelled in reply. Before she could protest, I dashed out the door. But I skidded to a stop when I almost ran into someone walking up the porch steps. I smiled when I realized the morning visitor was just the person I'd been hurrying to go see.

"Hey," I said, shoving the album behind my back. "What are you doing here?"

James scratched his head like he was nervous about something.

"Um, I had to come and talk to you about something," he said.

I nodded slowly. Worry began to creep over me that he'd come to our friendship for good.

The week was over, but did that really mean we had to stop being friends?

"I have to talk to you about something too," I said quickly.

"You do?" he asked, eyes widening.

"Yup." I nodded.

"Okay, let's sit down and talk then," he said, gesturing to the porch swing.

We walked over toward it; then I sat down. When James sat beside me, I noticed he sat much closer than usual. The action stunned me a little, but I didn't say anything about it. It was refreshing he wasn't keeping me at arm's length anymore, and I hoped it'd stay that way.

"Sorry, I'd have come earlier, but I woke up pretty late. I just got up about an hour ago," he said to me.

"Same. I literally woke up like twenty minutes ago," I told him then laughed.

James didn't laugh with me. His face was all serious.

"Okay," I said, focusing on the matter at hand. "Before you say anything, there is something I want to give you first."

James nodded but still didn't say anything in reply. I took that as a go-ahead and pulled the photo album from behind my back.

"Happy early birthday," I said.

James' serious face turned into a smiling one when he saw the title I'd given the photo album.

"Jarlee forever?" he read.

I giggled and shrugged. "It's a little cheesy, but why not?"

I'd chosen to give the album a name last minute after I'd put the final photo of us inside.

Leslie calling us Jarlee hadn't been to tease us like almost everyone else that said it, and that made the name seem endearing to me for the first time. Hence why I titled our book full of memories with it.

James laughed a tiny bit and opened the book. He smiled down at our first picture together at the Fairington Bonfire then turned to the next one of us on our first day of fifth grade together. Each page he turned delicately and observed thoroughly like he didn't want the album to end.

It was enough to let me know how touched he was by the gift.

I felt proud of myself.

The previous week itself, along with the photo album, met the criteria for my entire plan. I'd proven I was a good friend, I'd proven he was a good friend, and I'd proven WE had a friendship worth saving.

If this didn't convince him, nothing would.

He came across the 'then and now' parts of the book and laughed at the similar facial expressions we were wearing in both zip-line photos.

"Wouldn't you know it, I'm terrified in both of them," he remarked.

"And as usual, I'm just chill," I commented. We laughed.

"So, that's what all the pictures were for," he said, flipping to the 'then and now' pictures of our backyard campouts.

"Yup, then, and now we're best friends," I stated.

"We are," he said, sounding unsure.

"This one is my favorite." He pointed to the picture from the Dairy Jester on the last page.

I smiled softly, "Mine too."

Affected by the tenderness of the moment, I wrapped him in a hug. James and I didn't hug often, but whenever we did, I was always the one to initiate it. Something about hugging your best friend just makes you feel safe.

James' arms slowly hugged me back, and I wondered why he seemed to hesitate at first.

I supposed I had just surprised him.

I started to pull away, but as we faced one another, James didn't let go of me. Our eyes met, and this time it was his turn to surprise me.

Slowly, he started moving towards me.

Like he was about to say something he didn't want anyone else to hear...or like we were going to kiss?

I knew it had to be the former, but when our lips were almost inches apart, I thought maybe it wasn't.

My mind started freaking out.

What on earth is wrong with him? I wondered.

Why is he acting like we are about to kiss??

"James??" I called out to him, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

He seemed to come back to reality then.

Because his eyes widened, and he quickly scooted away from me.

"Uh sorry, I..thought I saw something in your eye," he said, awkwardly hurrying to his feet, lifting the album from his lap so it wouldn't fall to the ground.

"Oh, okay," I said, still feeling utterly confused.

His eyes stared at the porch floor for a moment, and neither of us said anything. I didn't know if he was lying or not but didn't want to press it.

Things were uncomfortable enough as it was.

"What'd you think you saw in my eye?" I asked him, breaking the silence.

"I don't know. I guess it was just sunlight." He shrugged.

"Okay. Well, you can sit back down. You didn't have to jump up like that," I told him.

How stupid of me to think he was gonna kiss me, I thought, feeling really bad for yelling at him like that.

James looked at the album he was still holding but didn't reply.

After a few seconds, he handed the album back to me and met my gaze.

"I think you ought to keep this, Harlee," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Why would I keep it, James? I made it for you."

"I know you did, but it's just not something I want to keep," he told me.

Bewilderment and hurt surged through my heart.

I didn't understand why he suddenly seemed mad at me.

"James, I made the photo album for you," I said back, my voice firmer this time.

"I don't want it," he stated more firmly this time.

I felt stung.

But I felt irritated more than anything.

"What do you mean you don't want it?!" I yelled, standing to my feet.

Once I did, though, James backed even further away from me. I stepped closer to him, and he backed all the way off the porch. I reached out to try and help steady him, but he decided he'd rather fall than touch me. His legs slipped out from under him, and he fell into the grass, landing on his bottom.

I hurried down the steps after him. "James! James! Are you okay?" I asked although I low-key felt like he deserved it.

"I'm fine," he replied, standing to his feet. He brushed his shorts off and then met eyes with me again.

"What was all that about then?" I asked. "Why are you suddenly mad at me?"

"It's not you, Harlee. I'm mad at myself."

"Why? What are you talking abou-?"

"Just please, keep the album," he cut me off. "Keep the memories."

He shook his head like he didn't want to say what he was about to say.

I didn't want him to say it either, because I had a feeling I wouldn't like it.

"I don't want it, because...I meant what I said in May. We can no longer be friends," he said quietly. "That's what I came over here to tell you."

I was right.

I didn't like it.

It felt like I had just been slapped in the face.

Denial overwhelmed me.

I started shaking my head. "No...you don't mean that," I said, my voice a whisper.

"Yes, I do, okay?"

"But everything has been fine, James, why?" I asked.

"You can't do this to me again! You can't just end things without even telling me why!" Hot tears began falling down my face, but I didn't even care that he saw them.

He deserved to know how much he was hurting me.

He deserved to hurt as much as I was.

"Please, don't cry," he said, swallowing.

He reached out to try and wipe one of my tear-stained cheeks, but this time I backed away from him. He dropped his hand and sighed. Then he shook his head slowly.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Harlee. Okay? I've just changed.

Trust me. It's better this way. For both of us...I'm so sorry. Bye, Harlee," he concluded, then walked out of my yard, leaving me standing there all alone.

A month ago, I'd have chased him.

Maybe, even a week ago, I would have.

But after everything I'd done to try and save our friendship, I finally realized the truth.

James Whitmire didn't care about me like he once did.

My parents were right.

He had changed.

And as painful as it was to come to this conclusion, I finally realized things were never going to be the same again.

Our friendship was over.

For good.

I glanced down at the photo album with blurry eyes.

"Bye, James," I whispered.

Then I walked back into my house, holding the book of memories with a friend I could no longer call mine.