Thinkin Bout You For Years
Y/n calls her best friend Glen when she gets stood up by her boyfriend Randy. Glen becomes her 'prince charming' and comes to rescue her, which makes her finally see what's he's been saying for years.
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“Hey it’s Randy, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Came through the other end of my phone when I attempted to call my boyfriend for the third time tonight. And the other two times I got the same message back. So I decided to call someone who I knew would answer my call no matter what he was doing, my best friend Glen Powell.
Lowering my phone from my ear I tapped a few buttons before calling his number. Hearing the ringing I bit the nails of my freehand while I tried to walk in the parking lot of the local bar in Austin, Texas. Mine and Glen’s hometown. Waiting for some type of response I felt sick to my stomach and so stupid that I was standing out here wearing a short sleeve peach colored dress and my cowgirl boots. Alone and I swore I could hear thunder starting in the distance which meant I’d likely get rained on.
Finally, by the grace of God the phone rings stop and his familiar and comforting voice met my ears. “Hey Y/n, what’s new with you? Leslie said you had a date tonight. How did that go?”
“Glen!” My voice cracked as I started to cry unexpectedly just by hearing his voice. “I’m - Randy - he - he stood me up.”
“That asshole.”
I coughed out a laugh at his unexpected cursing but for some strange reason his reaction made me weakly smile. Leaning my back against the wall behind me with the bar sign lit up above my head I sniffed back some more tears. “Glen, I - uh - I need your help.”
“What do you need, Y/n?” He instantly responded.
“I got dropped off by Kayla cause my car is in the shop. So now I’m standing out here in a short dress and it’s gonna rain. And I just - I feel like an idiot. But just - just come pick me up please.”
Glen was visiting from La for a few weeks because it’s football season and his whole family goes crazy for it. We have been talking almost on a daily basis unless he was filming in which our conversations would get pushed back some. But regardless he has always been one call away for me. He’d always been there whether it was for advice, a laugh, or just a listening ear.
He fired back a reply and I could hear him grabbing his keys and a door shutting quickly before he hung up and I sent him my phone location pin. “I’m on my way.”
Nodding my head even though he couldn’t see me I slid down to the ground and just sat in my dress, hugging my legs to my chest lightly crying. My emotions just started going all over the place after hanging up with him. I didn’t understand why this had happened. Randy and I seemed to hit it off when we met at this bar a few years ago. We have been dating for the past four years and he has only had to unexpectedly cancel our dates five times.
The first few drops of rain started to patter around me, then more, growing into a steady drizzle. The air grew heavy with the scent of wet asphalt and rain, a scent that usually soothed me but now only deepened how upset I felt. Just as the drizzle threatened to turn into a full-blown downpour, a familiar rumble cut through the quiet night. Headlights, bright and blinding, swept across the parking lot before a truck, undeniably Glen’s, pulled up beside me.
The passenger window hummed down, and a furry, excited head popped out, a cheerful bark echoing through the rain-kissed night. “Brisket!” I whispered, a teary smile breaking through my misery. Glen’s Terrier/Poodle ball of scruffy, affectionate energy, whined happily, his tail thumping against the seat.
“Y/n, get in!” Glen’s voice, sharp with concern, cut through the rain. He was already leaning over, pushing the door open for me. His eyes, usually sparkling with humor, were dark with worry. He looked tired, a little rumpled in a tee shirt and sweatpants, his hair probably still damp from a shower.
Clumsily, I pushed myself up, my legs stiff. Brisket, clearly sensing my distress, let out another soft whine and nudged his wet snout against my hand as I climbed into the warm, dry cab. “I’m sorry I called you so late.”
“I told you I was on my way,” he said, his voice softer now as he pulled away, expertly navigating the puddles. The wipers worked furiously, cutting arcs through the downpour that had finally arrived. He cast me a quick, assessing glance. “You’re soaked.”
I just nodded, unable to speak, fresh tears welling up. The warmth of the truck, the presence of Brisket snuggled against my side, the sheer relief of not being alone in the rain anymore, it all burst forth. I covered my face with my hands and let out a choked sob.
Glen reached over, his hand resting gently on my arm. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let it out. He’s not worth your tears.”
His words, meant to comfort, only opened the floodgates further. “Four years, Glen. Four years. And he just… doesn’t show up. Not even a text. Nothing.”
He sighed, a deep, weary sound. “Randy is an idiot. An absolute idiot. You deserve so much more than this, Y/n. So much more than someone who can’t even bother to text you when he changes his plans.”
His hand moved from my arm to my shoulder, his thumb gently stroking the wet fabric of my dress. “You’re one of the most incredible people I know. You’re kind, you’re funny, you’re loyal to a fault. You light up every room you walk into, even when you don’t think you do. You remember everyone’s birthday, you make the best damn margaritas, and you can out-sing me on any country song, even if you won’t admit it.”
I sniffled, peeking at him through my fingers. He was looking straight ahead at the road, but his jaw was set. “You deserve someone who sees all of that, Y/n. Someone who not only shows up, but wants to show up. Someone who doesn’t make you question your worth for a single second. Someone who thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, even in a peach dress and cowgirl boots, sitting in the rain. Especially then.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight. My breath hitched. He wasn’t just talking about Randy anymore. He was talking about him. The way he described the ideal partner, the way he looked at me, the way his voice had softened to an almost reverent tone… it wasn’t just a friend comforting a friend. It was something deeper, something I’d been blind to for years.
My heart began to pound, a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The realization, like a lightning bolt, struck me with breathtaking clarity. All the times he'd been there, all the late-night calls, the spontaneous road trips, the way his eyes always seemed to find mine across a crowded room. It wasn’t just friendship. Not to him. And suddenly, terrifyingly, wonderfully, not to me either.
He pulled over, not at my house yet, but into a secluded cul-de-sac beneath the sheltering limbs of an ancient oak, the rain drumming softly on the roof. The only sound in the cab was the wipers and Brisket’s gentle snores. Glen turned off the engine, plunging us into a semi-darkness illuminated only by the faint glow of the dashboard. He turned to me fully, his hand still on my shoulder, his eyes searching mine.
“Y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, raw with emotion. “I’m so sorry Randy did this to you. But what I was trying to say… What I’ve been trying to say for a long time, maybe even without realizing it myself… is that I see all of that in you. All of it. And I think… I think I’ve been in love with you for a very long time.”
My breath hitched again, but this time it was in wonder, not sorrow. My gaze flickered to his lips, then back to his intense, honest eyes. The air crackled between us, charged with all the unspoken years, all the shared laughter and quiet moments.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in too, my hand lifting to cup his cheek, his skin warm beneath my palm. His eyes fluttered closed as our lips finally met.
It wasn't a passionate, demanding kiss, not at first. It was soft, hesitant, full of years of unspoken longing and tender promises. His lips were warm and gentle, a stark contrast to the cold sting of the night, a comfort that sank deep into my very bones.
As the kiss deepened, a wave of warmth spread through me, chasing away the cold, the hurt, the feeling of being an idiot. His hand moved from my shoulder to cup the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his thumb stroking my skin. I melted into him, a sigh escaping my lips, no longer tears but pure, joyful release.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and a little shaky, his forehead rested against mine. A shy smile touched his lips. “Hey, Y/n.”
“Hey, Glen,” I whispered back, my voice still a little wobbly, but filled with a happiness so profound it made my heart ache. Beside me, Brisket stirred, letting out a little stretch and a satisfied grunt, as if giving his approval.
Glen pulled back just enough to look at me, his thumb still gently tracing the line of my jaw. “No more standing in the rain for you, okay? Not while I’m around. I know that ain’t what love looks like.”
I chuckled, a genuine, joyful sound. “I think I can hold you to that, Powell.”
