𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 , drew starkey

eleven

𝟕 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐎...

—𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀

—𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲

Arabella and Drew settled onto the stone swing in Arabella's backyard, the warm summer night surrounded them. The swing gently rocked back and forth as the pair sat in silence.

Drew rushed to Arabella's house the moment he heard her sniffle over the phone, his heart pounding with worry. Something was clearly wrong. He drove so fast that he nearly got a ticket on the way over, his mind consumed with concern for Arabella. He arrived to find her visibly upset.

"Thanks for coming on short notice." Arabella finally broke the heavy silence that hung between the two ever since Drew's arrival. Her voice was soft, scared that her voice would betray her if she spoke any louder.

"Of course," Drew replied in the same soft tone, his eyes searching Arabella's face. "You want to tell me what's bothering you now?" He turned to fully face her, noticing the redness of her nose and the dullness in her eyes.

Arabella bit her lip, nerves twisting her stomach as she debated whether to open up to Drew about this situation. It had only been a couple of weeks into the summer, but it felt like an eternity since they had crossed the lines of their friendship.

Arabella paused, thinking before she speaks. She glanced into Drew's eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, but found only softness and concern. Encouraged, she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "It's... it's my dad. One second we're having great family time, and then the next he's pressing me about working for his business and telling me that majoring in English is a waste. Has he ever thought that this is what I wanted to do?"

Drew's expression fell as Arabella put her head in her hands, his features tightening with anger and concern. He'd known that Warren Whitmore was tough; everyone seemed to know. He'd always wanted Arabella to follow in his footsteps or her mother's, but she chose not to. No matter how much Warren Whitmore would say that it was fine that Arabella chose English, deep down, it really wasn't fine, and Warren made sure to tell her.

Warren loved Arabella deeply, that much was clear. But her choice to make her own path, separating from the one he had hoped for her, always stirred a mix of emotions in him.

"I'm sorry, Ara." Drew sighed, his voice heavy with pity. He wrapped Arabella in a hug, pulling her close, his arms enveloping her as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Arabella didn't hug back but moved closer to Drew, letting him embrace her even more letting him hug her while he gently rubbed her back. She closed her eyes, feeling comfort in Drew's embrace.

Arabella sniffed and realized that she must've been getting her snot on him. "Drew, my snot." She mumbled into his shoulder, attempting to pull away but Drew held her tighter, refusing to let her go.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each others embrace. They weren't speaking, just enjoying each others comfort as the world around them seemed to fade away.

When they parted, Drew noticed tears streaming down Arabella's cheeks. Gently, he brushed her hair away from her face , his touch comforting. Arabella's eyes met his, tears still staining her face. Drew leaned in, softly kissing each tear that fell, his lips warm against her skin. Finally, he met her gaze, his expression warm, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"For the record, English is not a waste at all," Drew began, his voice firm as he kept his hand on Arabella's face, wiping every tear that fell. "Do you know how many things you can do with an English major?"

Arabella sighed, her voice filled with frustration and disappointment. "I'd like to think so. My dad, however, would beg to differ." Her eyes briefly met Drew's.

"Well what do you want to do?" Drew asked, knitting his eyebrows together, awaiting Arabella's answer.

"I don't know. I kind of want to become a writer, not like an author, but a writer for a magazine—never mind, it's stupid."

"No it's not, Ara. Don't say that."

"I don't know."

"I think it's kind of hot." Drew grinned. "Imagine when we're older and someone asks me what my girl does and I tell them shes a writer for a magazine company. It's like that movie that you love so much. What was it—How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days?"

"You remember!" Arabella smiled softly for a moment then choked out a laugh, slapping Drew's arm. "Then I'm going to hit them with my man being an actor. I think that might just beat it."

"An actor and a writer. I like it."

"Well, I mean, if we're even together," Arabella teased with a playful smile on her lips before turning to Drew, who had a frown on his face.

"Stop saying stupid shit like that." Drew sneered, face hardening.

The two never put a name on what they were. They didn't ask each other to be boyfriend and girlfriend, they didn't need too—maybe thats where the problem lied. But they knew that whatever they were, it was real. They would make it work.

"Ok, come on then." Arabella extended her pinky, a playful challenge in her eyes which made Drew groan.

"Ara, I'm not doing your girly shit."

"Okay, fine. Then I guess we won't be together in the future." Arabella huffed, crossing her arms over chest as she sank into swing.

"Wait what—fuck, don't say that." Drew exasperated as he quickly lifted out his pinky in defeat.

Arabella smiled to herself before interlocking their pinkies together.

Arabella was about to pull her pinky away, but Drew's maintained its hold on hers. "Drew, what are you doing—"

Arabella let out a yelp when Drew pulled her pinky closer, causing her body to lurch towards him. The sudden movement brought them inches apart, and Drew took advantage of the moment, pressing his lips onto Arabella's.

"You're so stubborn, you know." Drew mumbled against Arabella's lips.

"So I've been told."

©𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞