“Today you have to tell him. Did you hear me?” she shouted.
“Oh God, for the 1000th time, I will tell him.” I groaned, rolling my eyes at her.
I was still staring at my wardrobe, like looking at a painting in an art gallery. I couldn't decide what to wear. The black one, nope; I looked like a funeral director. Maybe the yellow- nope, that made me look like a walking banana. Christ! Why was choosing an outfit harder than taking an exam?
Maybe it's because today I am going to see my childhood crush- my long-lost best friend. And also I am planning to tell him about my feelings. This time I wont allow him to abandon me.
When I saw his message inviting me to his birthday, I jumped with happiness. It's been years since I met him. Peter.......
Peter. His pictures were a bliss to see. His dark hair, warm brown eyes, a jawline sculpted by the gods and his undying love for black jackets. Oh! Just perfect.
“Stop dreaming and just pick one,” Ann huffed, clearly irritated for no reason. She was changing her lipstick for the fifth time now. She was the Cleopatra of our college—the Rachel to my Monica.
Anyway, today was special: my soon-to-be boyfriend’s birthday.
Everyone calls him Peter, but in my heart, he is Pete. Whenever I imagine calling him that, my face turns redder than a tomato.
He looked exactly like Zayn Malik— well, not exactly, but surely from a particular angle.
He was an artist. Once, he doodled my face when we were at eight, and I nearly passed out. I walked around smiling like an idiot for a whole week to the point where my mom even doubted that I had gone nuts after failing the midterm exam. He’s the topper, and as a bonus, he sings. A perfect package.
“Stop blushing. Just pick an outfit, will you? Or else your soon-to-be boyfriend will become someone’s soon-to-be fiancé?”
I was done rolling my eyes at her. I just nodded.” Okay, I think I will go for the dark blue one. It's his favourite colour. What say?”
She studied my dress for a minute. “Good. Pair it with my silver earrings. Let me check if I have the perfect lipstick for it.” She started to rummage through her stuff like a cat digging through trash in search of a rat.
Tonight was the night. I was going to confess to my Pete after a long time. I had to. If I didn’t, the blonde Erin would snatch my chance. I had seen the way she looked at him when we were in school, like he was a plate of her favourite pasta, just waiting to taste it. Not on my watch.


I hadn’t seen Peter in years—not since middle school when we were inseparable. Back then, he was the one who taught me how to ride a bike, the one who always stole my lunch but made up for it by giving me his extra chocolates. And now, here I was, standing outside his house, ready to confess my feelings. I never understood how the longing to talk to him changed in these irresistible feelings.
His house was huge. I didn’t understand how they managed to clean it— it would have taken at least two days just to sweep the floor. I didn’t even want to think about the painters, their lives must have been hell.
Ann adjusted her skirt as we reached his doorstep. I was nervous as hell, my heart pounding like a speeding train.
“Okay, listen to me. Look into his eyes and tell him. Be confident; don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost —like you do right now. Change that expression. ASAP.” She said, talking as if she had dated a hundred boys. She was just as pathetic as me. If a boy so much as smiled at her, she created an entire family in her imagination. At least I had a crush; she was born single. Anyway, I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her, so I just nodded.
We walked straight into the house, and my whole college seemed to be there.
Ugh, I hated it.
My eyes scanned the room for him, but he was nowhere to be found. The music is so loud— was this a party or a full-blown concert?
That’s when I spotted his childhood friends, obviously not better than me. They study in my college.
They thought they were the coolest, but they were dumb as hell. Charlie, the giraffe-looking one, thinks he is Harry Styles. He sang at every party, and listening to him was like stuffing bugs into your ears. I don’t know what that felt like, but I was sure that his voice was worse than that.
Then there was John, who fancied himself a fighter. Last month, when there was a fight at college, I saw him running away from the fight like he was in a marathon. But I had to admit, he ran like a cheetah. And there was Samuel, the playboy with his annoying smirk that he thought was his trademark. He believed he was a great speaker like Martin Luther King, but in reality, he was Donald Trump.
Out of all of them, my Pete was the only normal one in that circus, mostly because he shifted to England for college. Or else he would have been transformed like these monkeys.
Ann went off to get drinks while I stood there, still searching for him. That’s when I saw the biggest headache of my life—the dandruff of my hair— Miss Erin, with her high-heeled minions. Her eyes were scanning the crowd too, and I was willing to bet she was looking for my Pete. I had to move fast.
I pushed past the crowd, and there, near the swimming pool, I found him. My stomach felt like it had a whole troop of bats flying around inside. A blush crept up my cheek. I got glued to the floor, adoring him— the way his skin glowed in the moonlight, the way he laughed, his teeth so white—I wondered if he carried a toothbrush in his pocket, his jacket hanging loosely off his shoulders. My mind craved to talk to him. My best friend.
His eyes met mine, and he waved. Slowly, I walked toward him, my heart pounding like a drum. My palms were sweating.
He stepped closer. “Hey, Sophy. I missed you. You look prettier than ever” He hugged me, and my cheeks burned. His scent instantly calmed my nerves.
“Happy Birthday, Peter”, I whispered.
“Thanks. I was waiting to talk to you. I have so much to say. Where’s Ann?” he asked.
“She’s somewhere over there.” I gestured towards the crowd. I put up my whole courage and asked, “Peter, I want to tell you something.”
“I want to tell you something, too.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Let's go over there.” He led me towards a bench away from the crowd. This wasn’t just a house— it was a castle.
I walked nervously behind him. He sat on the bench, and I sat beside him.
“So, what is it? What do you want to tell me?” he asked, his eyes shining. My heart felt heavy.
“You go first?” I forced the words out.
“Okay, I’m a bit nervous. I haven’t told anyone yet and I know it is not the first thing you tell your long-lost friend. But trust me when I say this— I haven’t felt this way before.”
My pulse pounded in my ears as I blinked rapidly, willing the tears away. My hands were shaking. This was it. My mind urged me to scream and dance like a maniac.
He exhaled sharply, closed his eyes and said, “ I like Charlie.”
“Yes!!—Wait……. WHAT????” My eyes nearly popped out. Maybe I heard it wrong.
“I think I’ve fallen for Charlie.” He repeated with a soft smile. My mouth hung open, I probably caught a fly then and there.
Gay. Charlie… Seriously!!
“You mean Charlie? That one?” I pointed at Charlie, who was standing near the pool, ready to sing ‘Baby’ for the thousandth time.
OH, MY GOD. How could he do this to me? My head started to spin.
Peter nodded shyly. “I’ve always liked him. I am planning to confess today. You can help me, right? I know you can, you always helped me.”
Jesus, why me? Did I accidentally sign up for some tragic experiment? I had planned three children with him. A house, a dog, even retirement plans. Gone. Just like that. I had even picked my wedding dress. And now, without my permission, my brain was already imagining his wedding with Charlie—with me as their priest.
Oh no.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, still couldn't believe it.
Please take me to hell, God. I could handle hell better than this.
"I really missed you, Sophy," Peter said, squeezing my hand. "You’ve always been there for me, and I want that back. I want us to be best friends again." Happiness crept through my body. I missed him.
Peter was about to say something when Charlie shouted his name and waved him to come over. Peter blushed.
“Don’t leave! I need your help.” Saying this, he ran towards Charlie.
At that moment, I was ready to flush him after smashing him like Hulk. Stupid Charlie!!
I am going to burn his house, disconnect his WIFI, I will torture and grill him like barbeque chicken. I was the one to be on Peter's side all along, in that way I wouldn't miss him anymore. In that way, he would hear my problems and I could always call him. But nothing happened, my life became a joke.
Why didn't I understand this? How could I understand this as Peter was not here? I lost my chance to have Peter in my life permanently due to this dumb Charlie.
The way he said miss you, melted something inside me. I wanted to kick Charlie's life out, but I liked the way he opened up to me, not to anyone else but me, that made me even more special than Charlie.
I am happy that Peter is still mine not in the way I want, but still he remembered and valued me. That thought made me smile. Maybe this was all I wanted – to regain the friendship with Peter.
Looking at Peter now, I realise that love doesn’t always come in the way we expect. Sometimes, it’s not romance—it’s the kind of friendship that lasts a lifetime. Even if he wasn’t mine in the way I had imagined, he was still mine in another way. And that was enough.
Ann appeared, searching for me.
“What the hell are you doing here? Did you confess? What did he say? Why are you smiling? Did he say yes?” Ann asked.
“Nope,” I said.
“Then why the hell are you laughing? Did his rejection make you go nuts?” She was examining me closely.
“Peter loves Charlie,” I said calmly.
Charlie’s voice suddenly boomed across the party.
“WHAT??? NO WAY!” Ann screamed