Right before they started high school, Colette’s best friend, Sadie, dumped her. Three years later, Colette is still lonely. She tries to be perfect for everyone left in her life: her parents, her younger brothers, her church youth group, even her boyfriend, Mark. But Colette is restless. And she misses Sadie.
Then Sadie tells Colette that she needs her old friend to join her on a family vacation to the Greek Islands, one that leaves in only a few days, and Colette is shocked to hear their old magic word: need. And she finds herself agreeing.
Colette tries to relax and enjoy her Grecian surroundings but it’s not easy to go on vacation with the person who hurt you most in the world. When the reason for the trip finally surfaces, Colette finds out this is not just a fun vacation. Sadie has kept an enormous secret from Colette for years . . . forever. It’s a summer full of surprises, but that just might be what Colette needs.
Support the Author, Buy the Book
Download the Ebook
An Excerpt from My Best Friend, Maybe by Caela Carter
“So, you wanna go?”
That’s how she asks me. Like she’s talking about a party. Or a chick flick. Or lounging around in her basement during a thunderstorm making ants-on-a-log by scraping the peanut butter out of the middle of peanut-butter crackers because everyone knows that’s the best kind.
It’s been three years since we last did that, or anything, together.
I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s on my mom if you do, the whole eight days. We’ll fly into Athens from Newark,” Sadie is saying, and I’m wondering if this is real or some bizarre dream. “Then we have to transfer planes for Santorini. That’s where my cousin’s getting married. Then we’ll take a boat to Crete for the party with his family. He’s Greek.” She adds the last two words like they explain everything. Like my biggest confusion in this jumbled invitation is why Andrea is getting married in Greece.
I slump back in my chair to put a few more inches between us, and I watch her push her white-blond hair out of her eyes. It’s streaked with red these days—a new look that blossomed for our junior AP exams last week.
“Charlie’s bringing his girlfriend. I don’t know about Sam,” she’s saying.
Her brothers. Who used to feel like my own brothers. It’s been ages since I’ve seen any of them. Do they miss me? Does her mom?
“I thought about asking someone else . . .” Sadie trails off.
After a second she says, “I ended up buying you a ticket. So let me know either way, Colette. Okay?”
She actually bought me a ticket?
I shake my head to clear the fog. She takes that as a no, and for a moment I see disappointment clash with triumph across her delicate features.
Then I open my mouth. “Sure.”
Sadie’s dark-blue eyes grow huge in shock, and I force my own not to mirror them.
“Sure?” she asks, her casual attitude flickering. “That’s all?”
“Yup, sure.” I slam shut my French notebook and shove it into my backpack. Technically the bell hasn’t rung signaling that we can pack up and talk, but everyone has finished their finals. Madame isn’t even in the room. She walked out twenty minutes ago. I was the only one with a book open when Sadie plopped down on my desk, her beautiful and intimidating face looming over me as she started babbling about a trip to her cousin’s wedding in a few days.
She didn’t even say hello.
She didn’t even look like sorry.
“Don’t you have questions? Don’t you need to think it over?” She leans into me, an amused lilt to her voice, and I remember how she always got most aggressive right before she lost a board game or a race in the pool.
I shake my head, not taking my eyes off my backpack. Of course I have questions. A million questions foaming in my lungs, but they aren’t the ones she thinks I’ll ask. And to ask them is to lose.
The tension is as thick as the heat in the classroom, the morning sun knifing through the window and drawing a harsh edge across Sadie’s profile so that half her face is cast in shadow.
“You aren’t going to ask your parents? Run it by Mark?”
Now I look at her.
“What’s the problem?” I say, still not sure whose words I’m speaking. I want to say Why, Sadie? Why now? If you’re going to break the silence and invite me somewhere, why couldn’t you ask me to hang out at the mall or go swimming?
Why is everything so big and complicated with you?
She shrugs, but she’s staring at me.
“What?” I say. “Do you think you have a monopoly on spontaneity and adventure?”
She raises her eyebrows, her face caught between emotions again: this time, amusement and mortification.
“Okay, I’ll see you in Greece, Coley.” She pats my brown hair like I’m a little kid. But she always used to do that. But then again, we always were little kids.
Coley. It’s still repeating in my ears when the bell rings. No one has called me that in years. Three years.