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"ould you rather skydive or bungee-jump?" Jared asks when he jumps in the couch next to me. He's nursing a beer and a bowl of popcorn.

Since I'm avoiding alcohol, I grab the bowl of popcorn from him. "Skydiving. With an instructor of course. You?"

"None."

"Then why the fuck did you ask me?"

"Because Oli asked me, and I told him he's crazy. That's what he wants us to do for his birthday in the summer."

"I'm down for skydiving," I say, then joke, "I forgot you're a scaredy-cat."

He has the audacity to kick me. "Fuck off, man. I'm not down to die young."

I kick him back.

Two soft yet rapid knocks resound against our front door.

"Did you invite anyone?" Jared asks with a quizzical brow.

I shake my head. "No."

"Go check. I'm too comfortable." Jared settles against the pillows and lounges lazily like he's a king and I'm his servant.

I shoot a pillow at his face before getting up, too tired to argue with him.

When I check through the peephole, there is no one. "Is this some sort of prank? Did Oliver say he was passing by?"

Alarmed, Jared sits up straight and runs his palm over his head. "No. You sure there's no one?"

Very gently, I pry open the door, as if I'm waiting for an axe murderer to jump at me. Confirmed, there is no one there. Just an empty lobby that's eerily quiet.

Glancing down, I notice there's a basket with something wrapped in cloth. A small card lays a top it.

"Jared..." I say warningly.

"What?"

"There's a suspicious looking basket over here."

"Does it look like it's carrying a bomb?"

"No."

"A baby?"

"Why would someone leave us a child? No."

"Then why the fuck are you freaking out. Pick it up."

Swallowing rough, I bend down to pluck the envelope. It's a letter.

Addressed to me in feminine writing. Trenton.

Cursing, I bring the basket inside and into the kitchen. Jared follows me like a hawk, nervously tugging at his white tee.

When I remove the cloth, there's a stack of what seems to be two dozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut in perfectly neat triangles.

Okay. Now I'm flabbergasted.

"Oh, my God." Jared's mouth hangs wide open. "Someone is trying to fucking poison us!"

I furiously rip open the envelope to get to the letter inside.

That swelling feeling is back in my heart. I lower the letter and look down at the basket. I know it's apple-jelly, and the fact that she took the time to cut the crust warms me further.

She was right last night, when she said she's my best friend. No one knows me like this girl.

"Read it out loud," Jared hisses.

I ignore him, because...

Shit, I'm swooning.

I've got it bad for Cheryl Anderson if two dozens of PB&J sandwiches have my heart thudding like a pubescent kid.

"Trent." Jared leaps forward as if to rip the letter from my hands.

I shove him away. "Back-off. They're from Cher!"

The taut lines near his mouth transform into a beam and he explodes laughing in that laugh I fucking hate so much. It's so ugly and obnoxious. But it's also contagious, because I find myself reciprocating it.

"What possessed her to do this?" he guffaws.

"I think it's sweet," I say in her defense. "When's the last time a woman you liked cooked for you, eh?"

He flicks me the middle finger, still laughing. "No one since your damn sister, asshole."

"Shut up, Jared," I mutter, my cheeks heating up unexpectantly. I feel vulnerable. Cher has caught me off-guard.

And so has Jared, since he manages to steal the letter and read it before I can stop him.

I'm not as mad as I thought I'd be, especially when his features loosen and he addresses me softly. "Bro, you've got it bad for her. Judging from this, she's got it bad for you too. Call her. Text her. I don't care. But don't fucking ruin this. You need time? Again, take it. However, let her know her efforts are being seen and appreciated. This isn't just anyone, you know."

"I know," I murmur, fighting the sappy smile from overtaking me face.

"You're going to wind up with her regardless. Just message her, Trent. She's trying to make it clear you aren't an option to her. Make it clear that you're hearing her loud and clear."

You're going to wind up with her regardless.

This is her peace-offering, a step in the right direction.

"You're right," I tell him, then add, "When did you become filled with so much wisdom, shithead?"

I think he won't answer because he busies himself with picking a sandwich from the basket and putting it in a plate.

He speaks up before I leave the kitchen.

"I broke a girl's heart three years ago." Jared shrugs, nonchalant, but his grey eyes are alight with an emotion that says otherwise. "I learned and grew up."

I know the girl was my sister, but I can't stand seeing my best friend hurt either. "She's forgiven you. You'll always be her cookie jar."

His smile is aged, millions of miles away. "I know."

* * *

When I'm in the safety of my room, I pull out my phone and message Cher.

For a second, I contemplate what to say. Next second, I've written a heartfelt message. Following moment, I delete everything away.

I want her to work for me a little. So, I don't make it easy. If she really wants me and I'm not her rebound, she'll really have to prove it.

I opt for sending her a slightly impersonal message.

😊

Her reply is instant. She sends me back a kissing-face emoji. Nothing more.

Looks like she's respecting my boundaries.

When I go to bed that night, I have the biggest, goofiest smile on my face.

* * *

I've had my head planted in books for the last two weeks. Final season is here and I'm about to get ripped a new one.

I don't have time for distractions. More than often, I've found myself turning off my phone for long periods of time to simply concentrate and get shit done.

I've also taken up a new hobby – meditation.

Two weeks ago, after a stressful study session with the guys and Inga, she took it upon herself to force us into a meditative state. Turns out, Oli's soon-to-be fiancé does yoga and mediates every damn night, with stones and crystal healing bowls.

At first, we'd wanted to laugh at her, but after one silencing look from Oli, we caved in and complied with her wishes.

Not going to lie, probably the best decision I've made in a long time.

I've never felt calmer or more at ease.

That's why, when I get a sporadic text message from Cheryl – I'm saying sporadic because the girl has practically left me alone with radio silence from her part – I don't feel anxious and nor do my emotions get knotted up.

I resist the urge to type hi, baby or use any type of term of endearment.

It's super impersonal. Once again, I want to cringe, but I stay firm with my words.

She's gotta fucking earn me. I don't care if that makes me sound like a chick.

I debate if I should say nothing and keep the conversation casual. But then Jared's words pop into my head, and I remember how he told me not to ruin this. Take as much time, but don't ruin this.

And I don't want to either.

So I tell her the truth.

She replies with a small message, updating me on her end.

It's a short and sweet conversation and I hate to wrap it up, but for my own sake, I know I have too.

I tell her goodbye, despite the sinking uncomplete feeling in the pit of my stomach.

* * *

Two days later, the Canucks vs the Rangers game is on.

We've invited a couple of guys from the football team as well as Oli to hang around. Our apartment has been turned into a fraternity, it seems, courtesy of the pizza boxes and crates of beers.

The atmosphere is boisterous, and people are cheering on as we lead the game by 5-2.

I'm in the kitchen with Jared and some other guys, cracking open beers when Wyatt comes in with a pink package in his hands.

He runs a hand over his cornrows and regards us with an odd gleam in his eyes. "Uh, so this was left outside our door. Says it's addressed to Trent, but I can't tell if it's a prank?"

Immediately, drunk Jared catches on and laughs. "Oh, la, la. I wonder what cupid sent you now."

"Cupid?" Wyatt's brown eyes bounce between us. "Who the hell is that?"

I suck in a sharp breath. It has to be Cher. Dammit, what has she sent me now?

Before the guys can make fun of me, I've snatched it out of Wyatt's hands and start to head to my bedroom.

Down the hallway, I can hear my friends making kissing noises and catcalls.

I slam the door for good measure and lock it. Putting my beer bottle down on my desk, I sit on my bed and gently open the ridiculous pink heart-patterned packaging. She's scrawled my name with a black sharpie on top with smiley faces and hearts.

Inside is a stone the size of my palm. It's round and clear-white colored.

The cheesiest smile breaks out over my face and I laugh, while my heart simultaneously cartwheels in my chest. This girl. She gets me. Every fucking time.

I take my phone out and snap a picture of my palm gently cupping the crystal. I attach it in a message for Cher.

Cher replies with a heart-eye emoji.

We don't say anything else – nothing more needs saying. This is her fighting for me, and this is me accepting it.

I'm not ready to go back to the party. Closing my eyes, I fall back softly against my bed, feeling content and more at peace than the last time I tried to settle with my thoughts.

She cared enough to do this and that's what I'm focusing on.

Sometimes the journey is long, even though the thing we cherish and want the most lies within our grasp.

I hold the crystal to my heart, feeling it's weight and energy. I haven't stopped smiling.

I realize quickly that it brings to me the same feeling Cher does when she's near – happiness.

* * *

Since all of our friends were busy, Jared and I decided to take ourselves out for date night. We watched an action movie, ate popcorn and held hands. It was so romantic.

As proof, we snapped a picture of our joined hands and sent it to our friends group chat. For good measure, we also added a fuck you to everyone who'd refused to unbusy themselves to hang with us.

Oliver responded with a picture of his own – two wine glasses with the fireplace as a backdrop, along with his and Inga's joined hands. Twinsies, he wrote. Have fun fucking tonight!

Jared added a kissing face. We will, Oli. Might have to go to Ikea tomorrow morning if we break our headboard in :S

Nat responded with a laughing GIF.

Cher wrote. My favorite OTP #Jareton. Make sure you film for spank bank material!

Before either of us could reply...

Tara sent a picture of her vibrator with a smiley face. Guess who's doing me tonight?

The girls started a whole conversation on sex toys and that's when I muted the chat.

"I'm damn hungry," Jared said with a yawn as we stepped out of the cinema. "I could go for a drink and a burger."

"I'm down. Where do you want to go?"

The temperature has gotten cooler here in Vancouver, and while I am pretty hungry, I don't exactly feel like driving all the way across town to get a meal.

Jared's cell started blaring. He picked it up as we made our way to my SUV. "Yo. What's up, Wyatt? Yeah. Yeah. OK. Sure. I'll tell him."

I pressed the start button in the car and swiftly turned on the heating. Staring out into the windshield, I muttered, "I really hope it doesn't start snowing. By the way, what did Wyatt want?"

"He said he called you first, but you didn't pick up. Asked us to go to Danny's for a bite. Oh, and he has a surprise for us."

My brows furrowed. "I wonder what it could be."

"Beats me."

* * *

When we enter Danny's Grill, Wyatt is seated at the bar with a girl.

He's smiling and running his hands over his cornrows, almost...blushing. Wyatt is smooth with the ladies; I don't think I've ever seen him grin as big as he is right now.

The girl's back is to us and all I see is long, chestnut brown hair.

"Hey!" Wyatt hollers when we approach. His company swivels around and greets us with a big beam of her own.

"Teagan!" Jared exclaims. "No way. You're back!"

He's already crushing her in a hug and she's doing the same. Her voice is muffled against his shoulder when she speaks. "Jared! Told you I'd be back mid-December, just in time for the holidays."

"Damn. Look at your hair. You ditched the blond?"

Teagan nods with a smirk. "Yeah, decided to go back to natural. You like?"

Jared laughs, twirling her strands. "I love!"

I push Jared over and pull her out of her chair and hug her back. "It's good to have you home."

She pats my back affectionately and kisses my cheek. "It's nice to be back. For good this time."

When we pull away, Wyatt is watching us quietly, the cheeky expression gone. Jared gives him a pointed look and Wyatt snaps out of some trance, clearing his throat. His attention is back on his plate of fries.

"So...Wyatt knew you were here?" Jared asks Tee with a look that says spill the beans.

She laughs shakily and reaches over to squeeze Wyatt's bicep in a friendly manner. "Yes! I was at Le Petit Moulin wrapping up some paperwork with Elsie since she's giving me a place to stay and work. I knew everyone else was busy and I saw you guys were on a date, so I asked Wyatt if he could help me surprise both of you afterwards."

Jared frowns. "Oh, that makes perfect sense."

But we're not blind. Jared and I exchange a meaningful look, because we both see what's happening here. Wyatt is into Teagan and she's oblivious to this fact. I'd catch him conversing with her when she flew back home and roomed with us. But maybe they'd kept in contact even after she left back for Boston.

It may also be nothing. Maybe we were just overthinking it.

"Well, sit down guys. Grab a bite, you must be starving." Teagan maneuvers us until we're sitting on the barstools like good, obedient children. "Here's the menu."

"How was your date?" Wyatt snickers.

Jared grabs my hand and threads it with his, giving a loud satisfied sigh. "It was perfect – I knew we were always meant to be."

"And I always knew you guys were gay for each other." Teagan chimes in playfully. "Since Trent's 18th birthday and that time in your truck's backseat, Jared."

Wyatt's mouth drops open with a chuckle. "What? I need to hear this!"

I'm not even mad at the jab, because this is the first time I've seen Teagan smiling in months. I just let it slide.

"If you must know, our romance began the night of Trent's birthday, when we took him to the strip club..."

I let Jared weave some false tale about our happily ever after, while perusing the menu.

* * *

It's nearing midnight but we're still huddled in deep conversation. Wyatt and Jared are talking about sports drafts and Teagan was in the midst of telling me about her last semester at Harvard.

"I'm just going to take it easy, you know? I want to take a break from school. Maybe a year and get my shit together," she murmurs, chin on her fist. "Not too sure."

I nod at her, getting it. I wished she'd tell me the real reason why she was leaving in a haste, but I won't push for more.

"Does your family know you're, um, here?" I ask, really not wanting to upset her but also wanting to know.

"No. No. I got back last night. I'm going to tell the girls tomorrow morning. For the moment being, I'm just going to focus on one day at a time. I don't even think it's worth telling my parents."

"I understand. I'm sorry I asked I just –"

"Hey – of course. You're allowed to ask me," she says. "I will find a way to sneak and talk to my little sister. I've missed her the most."

"Are you parents still keeping her away from you?" I cringe just to say it out loud.

The expression on Teagan's face is so crestfallen, I already know my answer before she says anything. "Yes, but that's going to change. They can't keep her away from me forever."

I want to add more to our conversation, but my phone buzzes with a text from Cheryl.

Teagan's demeanor shifts to a mischievous one. "Go on. Answer it. All the girls know she's wooing you."

"Stop it," I mutter under my breath, that feeling of blushing once again heating up my cheeks.