I don't remember a time before Arch. Our dads have been best friends since high school, so when they had kids at the same time, we were destined to be the new generation versions of them. To keep the famous Manning-Wright duo going. It was basically written in the stars for us from day 1.
Every knee scrape, every basketball game, every high school heartbreak, Arch was there for me. He would kiss my knee, cheer after every basket I made, and be my shoulder to cry on. He knew my Chick-fil-A order by heart, we had the same favorite movie, and most of our weekends were spent together. It just felt like fate when we both decided on UT. He commited for football, and I committed for basketball.
I could lie and say I never had feelings for him, but sometimes you can't help it. I'm not sure if it was those teenage hormones or how dependable he was, but once we moved to Austin, I realized just how much I liked him. I realized why every attempt at a relationship hadn't worked. I compared every guy to Arch, my day 1 built-in best friend.
When we got busy during our sports season and didn't see each other often, I tried not to take his absence hard. I told myself I just missed my best friend, it had nothing to do with my years-long crush at that point. We found our own routines and how each other fits in them. Every morning we texted each other before class and practice to check in, and every night we'd FaceTime to catch up on the things we missed throughout the day if we weren't able to hang out.
Since freshman year, we've explored all around campus and the city. Arch came to all my home games, and I went to his. During the spring semester, when Arch was out of season, he practically lived at my dorm.
The only bad thing about Arch being around more often is that my feelings for him had grown stronger with our close proximity. It happened every year. There's no hiding behind a phone anymore. There was one moment I almost slipped up. We were in my dorm eating Cane's after our big win against LSU at home. It was close the whole game, we only won by 5 points. I had one of the best games of the season so far. I was able to break the press after every inbound, I executed every play perfectly, and ended with a double-double, 11 assists, and 17 points. It was one of those games where I felt on fire, like I couldn't miss, no one could guard me, and it showed.
Ever since I met up with Arch after the game, he couldn't stop talking about it, how good I played, reciting plays and points, complimenting me on every front possible. He sat next to me at the table, his knee pressed against mine, smiling at me as he talked about the game, never breaking eye contact. We were so close, touching, connected, if he leaned in a couple of inches, I wouldn't have stopped him. I would've kissed him, I wanted to kiss him.
This was our normal, it was dangerous for me. He always waited for me after practice or games, he'd walk with me to class before going to his own, and he touches me like he always has. His arm over my shoulder as we watch TV, our hands brushing when we walk, his hand on my back as we weave through crowded bars and parties, but he had never crossed a line.
I knew I needed a distraction from Arch, from my feelings for him. So when a guy from the football team I'd met prior started flirting with me at the bar we were at, I didn't stop him. Arch was off with some of his other friends somewhere, but I could feel his eyes on me every so often, like he always did. Even if he wasn't with me, he was always checking on me, making sure I was okay.
I’d catch it in small ways, like a glance across the room when I laughed too loudly, the way his attention drifted back to me even when he was mid-conversation with his teammates. He never hovered or interfered. He just watched protectively, like it was instinct, like he couldn’t help himself.
The guy who came up to me from the football team was Jack. He leaned in close to hear me over the music, his hand resting at my waist, casually. I didn’t move away. I told myself I needed this, I needed to remind myself that Arch wasn’t the only option, that I wasn’t still seventeen and hopelessly in love with my best friend.
He asked me about my classes, basketball, things like that, and I answered. Asking about him, trying to make jokes, lighten the mood, it all seemed so flirty. Jack wasn't boring by any means, but he wasn't interesting. I felt bad for basically using him as a distraction. I knew Arch was watching, I wanted him to. When I glanced up to make sure, Arch was already looking at me.
He stood near the bar, a beer glass in his hand, shoulders tense, expression carefully blank. It was the same look he got on the sidelines sometimes, right before a snap. He looked focused, controlled, like he was holding something back, preparing for something. Our eyes met, and for a split second, something cracked. Then he looked away.
I turned back to Jack and forced a laugh at something he said. Let him buy me a drink. Let him stand close. Every second felt like I was betraying something unnamed. Arch came over not long after.
“Hey, guys. Didn't know you two knew each other.” he said, voice steady.
"We met at the student athlete awards last year, Jackie's a pretty one." Jack said, looking back at me, smiling. It felt so wrong, almost embarrassing for Arch to be here, listening to this. When Jack excused himself to get another drink, the absence he left behind felt louder than the music.
“I didn’t know you were hanging out with him.” Arch said.
“I wasn’t,” I replied quickly. “He just came over.”
Arch nodded once. “Okay.” That was it. No accusation. No argument. Just that single word, flat and final. I didn't see too much of Arch for the rest of the night. I felt his eyes on me, but it almost felt like he was avoiding me.
I was surrounded by a few of my teammates, not listening to much of the conversation. I couldn't, my mind was on Arch. On our last conversation, on our distance I couldn't seem to close, no matter how many times I tried.
"Do you know that guy you were talking to earlier?" Grace, a freshman, asked me.
"What guy?" I asked her, confused.
"The tall one, brown curly hair, when you were flirting with that one guy, he came up to you," She's talking about Arch, I know it. "He's like really cute."
I forced a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah, he is.” I said.
Grace looked between me and the crowd, clearly curious. “Are you guys… like together?” The question landed heavier than it should have. I could feel the group's eyes on me, waiting for my answer.
“No,” I answered too quickly. “We’re just friends. I've known him since I was a kid.” The word tasted wrong.
“Oh,” she said, nodding slowly. “He didn’t really look like just a friend.” I laughed softly, shaking my head.
“Trust me.” But even as I said it, my eyes searched the room for him.
"Yeah, they've been like besties forever." Izzy, a senior, added. Arch stood near the edge of the bar now, half-turned away from the group he’d been talking to earlier. He wasn’t drinking. His hands were clenched around his phone like he was debating leaving. When someone laughed near him, he didn’t join in. He just nodded, eyes drifting back to me like he couldn’t help himself. Every time our gazes met, he looked away first. That hurt more than anything else.
I tried to focus on my teammates, on Grace and the conversation shifting to weekend plans and practice schedules, but everything felt distant. Like I was watching the night happen from the outside. I kept thinking about the way Arch had said 'okay'. It felt like a line he’d drawn without telling me where it was. When I glanced up again, Arch was gone.
The space he’d been standing in felt louder than the music. Empty in a way that made my chest tighten. I scanned the room once more, slower this time, like maybe I’d imagined him there at all. But the absence felt deliberate. Like he’d chosen to disappear before he said something he couldn’t take back.
Grace was still talking, her hands moving animatedly as she went on about an early lift the next morning, but her voice blurred into background noise. I nodded when it felt appropriate. Smiled when someone laughed. Took a sip of my drink I didn’t really want. I lasted maybe five more minutes before the pressure in my chest became unbearable.
“I’m gonna head out.” I said suddenly, cutting Grace off mid-sentence.
She blinked. “Already?” Izzy asked me.
“Yeah, I’ve got homework.” She studied my face like she wanted to argue, then shrugged.
“Text me when you get back.” I pushed through the door before anyone else could say anything, the cool night air hitting me like a reset. I took a few steps down the sidewalk, wrapping my arms around myself, half-expecting to be alone the whole walk.
“Jackie.” I turned at the sound of my name.
Arch stood a few feet behind me, hands in his pockets, posture stiff like he wasn’t sure if he should’ve followed. The glow from the bar’s sign cast shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable.
"What are you doing out here?" I asked him, walking back towards him.
“Needed some air. Were you leaving?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I didn’t feel like staying.”
He nodded once. “Me neither.” There was a beat of silence. Then, without really looking at me, he gestured down the street. “You want to… walk?”
And just like that, we fell into step beside each other. The walk back was quiet. Not the easy silence we’d perfected over the years, the one that felt natural and safe. This one pressed in on me, heavy and sharp, like it was waiting to split open. Arch walked beside me, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tight. He didn’t look at me once.
“You’re awfully quiet.” I said finally, trying to keep my voice light.
“I’m fine.” he replied, immediately. Too quick.
I scoffed softly. “You’ve said maybe ten words since we left.”
“That’s because I don’t have anything nice to say.” he shot back before he could stop himself.
I stopped walking. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He stopped too, turning toward me slowly. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark with something I’d never really seen directed at me before.
“I didn’t like it.” he said plainly.
“Didn’t like what?” I asked, even though I knew.
“Watching him touch you like that,” he said. “Watching you let him.”
My heart skipped. “You don’t get to be mad about that.”
“I know,” he snapped. “That’s what makes it worse.”
We stood there for a moment, the air thick between us, before continuing the rest of the walk in silence.
When we got back to my dorm, I tossed my keys onto the counter and turned to face him. “Say it. Whatever you’re thinking.”
He laughed humorlessly. “You really want me to?”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t like other guys looking at you like that. I don’t like them thinking they have a shot. And I really don’t like the idea of you thinking that’s all you deserve.”
My breath caught. “All I deserve?”
“That guy didn’t know you,” Arch said, voice rising just a notch. “He doesn’t know how hard you work, or how locked in you get before a game, or the way you still call our dads after every big win. He doesn’t get to touch you like he does.”
“You're acting like you’re my boyfriend.” I said quietly.
His eyes snapped to mine. “Maybe I should’ve been.” The words landed between us like a dropped glass.
“Then why weren’t you?” I asked. “Why did you stand there and watch me fall for other people while you stayed silent? Every relationship I’ve had felt wrong. I kept telling myself it was bad timing, bad luck. But it was always you.” I looked at him then, really looked. “It’s always been you.”
He took a step toward me, stopping just inches away. “Because I was terrified that once I crossed that line, I’d lose you forever. And I’d rather have you as my best friend than not have you at all.”
I shook my head, tears stinging. “You don’t get to be jealous if you never claimed me.”
“I know,” he said, voice breaking just slightly. “But I am. I’ve been jealous for years.” That confession hit harder than anything else he could’ve said.
“I’ve loved you since high school,” he admitted. “Since I realized nothing was the same without you there, it made it unbearable. Every time you talked about another guy, I told myself it was none of my business. And every time, it felt like I was lying to myself. I chose here because being away from you felt like losing a piece of me.” he said quietly. “I told myself it was about football. About opportunity. But that wasn’t the truth.” My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“You don’t just get to drop that on me,” I whispered. “You don’t get to stand there and tell me you were jealous while I spent years convincing myself you didn’t see me that way.”
Arch took another step closer, his voice lower now, rough around the edges. “Do you have any idea what it felt like watching you let him touch you? Like I was watching something that belonged to me slip through my fingers... and knowing I had no right to stop it.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, even though my chest ached at his words. “You can’t want me silently and expect me to read your mind.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything,” he said quickly. “I just thought if I stayed close enough, eventually it would be enough. That wanting you quietly was better than not having you at all.”
“It wasn’t enough for me,” I admitted. “It never was.”
His jaw tightened. “I know. And every time you laughed with someone else, every time you mentioned a date, I told myself to be happy for you. I told myself that’s what a best friend does.” He let out a breath. “But it killed me.” The room felt smaller, charged with everything we’d never said. Arch reached out, hesitating for a split second before his fingers brushed mine, like he was still afraid I’d pull away.
“I don’t want to be your best friend tonight or ever again,” he said softly. “I don’t want to watch anyone else think they get to know you the way I do.”
I swallowed hard. “Arch…”
“Just tell me if I’m crossing the line,” he said. “Because I’ve spent years standing right on the edge of it.” I looked at him then. At the boy who’d been there through everything, the man who watched me like the world narrowed when I walked into a room. The one I’d been in love with longer than I wanted to admit.
“You crossed it a long time ago,” I said quietly. “I just didn’t think you’d ever admit it.” Something in his expression broke. He cupped my face gently, like he was afraid of startling me, his thumb brushing along my cheek.
“I should’ve told you,” he murmured. “I should’ve told you every time I wanted to.”
“Then don’t stop now,” I whispered.
The kiss was slow, deliberate, years in the making. Not desperate but certain. His hand settled at my waist, steady and familiar, like it had always belonged there. When we finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath uneven.
“I don’t want to be jealous anymore,” he said quietly. “I want to be with you. I want you to be my girlfriend.”
I smiled through the ache in my chest. “I thought you'd never ask.” For the first time, the truth was finally out in the open. And it felt like coming home.