Chapter 2 02

Chapter 02

Kyrn and I giggled like little kids as we mocked our parents' repetitive lectures about being careful, not talking to strangers, and always letting them know where we were going. You know, the stuff they say a million times a day, like a broken record. Or at least ten times before you're even allowed to step out the door with your friends.

"It's like they think we're still ten," Kyrn snickered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air dramatically. "Apparently being eighteen doesn't matter when you have overprotective parents."

My mom must've sensed I was talking about her because the second we reached the car, she gave me a playful-but firm-smack to the back of my head.

"I saw that," she said with her mom-glare on full display.

"Bye Mom, bye Dad. Love you guys," I said with a sly smile, giving them each a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Remember to call us every day," my mom said sternly, pointing a finger at me like a warning before she slid into the passenger seat.

"I will," I said, nodding to satisfy her. Though let's be honest, if I ever forgot, she'd probably show up out of nowhere and demand a full itinerary of my day.

Don't get me wrong-I love my mom. I really do. But she's the definition of strict. Like the kind of strict that makes you text every hour or risk being grounded at the age of eighteen. Still, I knew it was because she cared, and as annoying as it could be, I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Kyrn and I stood there waving until our parents drove out of sight. As soon as they turned the corner, we both started screaming and jumping like we'd just been freed from prison.

"I think a shopping trip is in order sometime this week," I said, pulling out my new debit card like it was a golden ticket. "I mean, come on! We both have money now. Debit cards. Freedom."

Kyrn raised her hands dramatically. "Finally, no more begging Mom for twenty bucks just to get a smoothie."

I laughed, already imagining us going wild at the mall. "And maybe, just maybe, we can find outfits that don't scream 'my mom picked this out for me.'"

"Oh, absolutely," Kyrn nodded enthusiastically. "But before you start planning your fashion takeover, you better hurry up and shower if you want to surprise Brett for your two-year anniversary."

"Crap!" I gasped, checking my phone. "I'm gonna be late! I had a whole surprise planned and everything!"

"Go, go!" Kyrn laughed as we sprinted toward my car. "What did you get him anyway?"

As she buckled in, I quickly put the car in drive and peeled out of the driveway. "He loves getting his picture taken with me, right? So I got this custom picture frame with his favorite photo of us. And..." I paused dramatically, flashing a grin. "Two tickets to see the Green Bay Packers."

Kyrn gasped. "No way! He's gonna flip. That's actually a really cute gift."

"I know, right? Though I still don't get why he likes the Packers. I'm a Vikings fan. Always have been, always will be."

She gave me a deadpan look. "You and football."

"What?" I shrugged innocently. "You like the Steelers."

"This is true," she said with a laugh, raising her hands in mock surrender.

The car ride home was filled with us trying to one-up each other by naming our teams' best highlights. She threw in the "Immaculate Reception," and I countered with the Vikings' Minneapolis Miracle. It turned into a full-on football debate that neither of us were winning-but that wasn't the point.

Eventually, we pulled up to her house. "Good luck," Kyrn said, gathering her bag. "Text me after and tell me how it goes!"

"I will," I promised, giving her a quick wave before speeding off.

Once I got home, I darted inside and straight up to my room. Getting ready didn't take long-I'd already picked out my outfit days ago. I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying too hard. Casual cute. I curled my hair just slightly and spritzed on some perfume before grabbing the wrapped gift and heading back to the car.

The drive to Brett's house only took about ten minutes, but I was buzzing with nerves the entire time. I double-checked my makeup at every stoplight and smoothed my dress at least a dozen times. I didn't know why I was so jittery-it's not like this was our first anniversary. But something about two years felt... different. More serious.

When I pulled into his driveway, I parked carefully, took a deep breath, and glanced at my reflection one last time before unbuckling and getting out. My hands were practically shaking as I carried the gift to his front porch.

'Is he home?' I wondered as I rang the doorbell.

No answer.

I knocked, just to be sure.

Still nothing.

I frowned and pulled out my phone, checking our messages. No unread texts. No missed calls. I tried calling him, and the phone rang... but no answer.

That was weird. He'd said he'd be home all afternoon. I even reminded him yesterday.

I waited a few minutes, pacing in front of the door, trying not to let my imagination run wild. Maybe he went to grab food. Maybe he was in the shower. Maybe-

I stopped pacing.

His car wasn't in the driveway.

A knot twisted in my stomach.

That didn't necessarily mean anything. He could've gone to get snacks or pick something up. I sat down on the front step and waited for ten minutes, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract myself.

Nothing.

I tried calling again.

Still no answer.

I sighed and stood up, biting my lip. "Come on, Brett..."

Just then, I heard a car approaching. My heart jumped-until I saw that it wasn't his. Some random sedan just cruising by.

I leaned against the doorframe, thinking back over the past few weeks. Things had felt... off. Not majorly, just little things. Late replies. Cancelling plans. Saying he was tired a lot. I tried to shake it off. This was supposed to be a happy day. Our anniversary. I didn't want to read too much into it.

After another ten minutes of silence, I finally set the gift down on his welcome mat, tucked safely in the corner where it wouldn't be stepped on or rained on.

"I hope you like it," I whispered to no one in particular, then turned and walked back to my car.

I tried not to cry. Not yet.

Maybe there was a good reason. Maybe he'd call back with a perfect excuse.

But that little voice in the back of my mind wouldn't stop whispering.

And it sounded a lot like doubt.