A few days had passed since that messy birthday party. One of my eyes was slightly red—probably some kind of irritation—so I decided it was time to get it checked.
Earlier today, I had a visit to the ophthalmologist. The clinic was bright, overly air-conditioned, and smelled faintly of disinfectant. I sat in the waiting room flipping through outdated magazines until a nurse called my name.
Inside the exam room, the doctor asked me to sit in the big chair and rest my chin on the weird contraption with all the lenses. He ran a few tests, shined a blinding light into both my eyes, and asked me to follow his finger.
"Any discomfort? Blurry vision? Itchiness?"
"Mostly twitching," I answered.
The doctor chuckled. "Maybe your eye has been twitching a lot lately."
"You have no idea," I said, leaning back.
He nodded, scribbled a few notes on his clipboard, and stood. "Your vision's perfectly fine. Just some irritation—probably due to screen time. Take these eye drops twice a day for a week. Everything else looks perfect."
I thanked him, grabbed the prescription, and walked out.
"So?" Uncle Charlie asked.
"It's nothing. Just need to use some eye drops."
Later that morning, we got back home. After putting the drops in my eyes, I had an idea.
I picked up the phone and called Rachel.
"Hello, is Rachel Brown there?"
"Hello? No. There's only me, Rachel Green," came the familiar voice on the other end.
"You haven't matured yet?" I asked in my usual voice.
"Jake!" she exclaimed with excitement, then added, exasperated, "Really, Jake?" I could almost see her deadpan face through the phone.
"You're becoming like Chandler," she said.
I exaggerated a gasp. "You take that back."
I could hear some laughter from her.
"So why did you call?" Rachel asked.
"You and Charlie are the same. Players! You never call me back. What about my feelings?"
"Jake... I really need to talk to your uncle about what you're learning."
I laughed and continued, "I just called because I went to the doctor today. Ophthalmologist. I need eye drops. Just imagine me putting that liquid in my little eyes."
I heard a small scream from her side.
"Hello," came another voice—Monica's.
"Hello, Monica!" I said enthusiastically.
Playfully, she asked, "What did you do? Rachel is over here murmuring 'that little brat.'"
"Nothing," I replied innocently. "And I really wanted to talk to you. Rachel said you don't get many friendly calls, so I'm calling to cheer you up."
"She said what?" Monica's voice faded a bit. Then I heard her calling in the background, "Rachel, what did you say to him?"
Suddenly, another voice came on—Chandler.
"Hey, you really know how to make chaos," he said playfully.
I grinned. "Thank you. I try."
"So, what's new?" I asked.
"We are official. Official-official," Chandler said, his voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.
"Wait, really?" I said, smiling. "Wow, congrats, man. You and Monica? Power couple energy." I said it genuinely—I really liked Monica and Chandler as a couple.
"Don't let her hear you say that," he whispered. "She's already planning the color palette for the next five years."
"I heard that!" Monica's voice called from the background.
Then Chandler said something I wasn't expecting.
"Hey, I still remember our promise. If it happens, I'm inviting you."
"Woah, you're all in, aren't you?" I said, a little surprised. Then, with a more serious tone, I added, "Go for it, Chandler. You absolutely can handle it. Believe it."
Chandler laughed softly. "Is it weird that I feel happy a 12-year-old kid is cheering me on?"
"Nah, man. But it would be if it were a twelve-year-old girl," I said with a smirk. "And I'm thirteen now, had my birthday a few days ago."
"Hey, congrats, little man," Chandler replied warmly.
In the background, I heard Rachel's confused voice, "Wait, what for?"
Chandler responded, "It was his birthday a few days ago."
"Hey! Happy birthday, Jake," I could hear Rachel say now. She had taken the phone back.
"Thanks, Rachel," I replied with a grin she couldn't see—but probably imagined anyway.
"So, how was your birthday?" she asked.
"A little bit messy," I admitted, laughing.
"Tell me everything," Rachel said.
I knew there was no going back—she would nag until I told her. So I decided to narrate the whole day. As I started talking, I could hear Chandler and Monica's quiet breathing on the line, clearly listening in.
By the time I finished, there were laughs on the other end.
"Oh, you, Mister Popular," Rachel said, still giggling. "So every family member invited a girl for you?"
I rolled my eyes, smiling. "It wasn't like that... well, maybe a little."
"But they're way too young. At most, I think of friendship."
"What about that Rory girl?" Rachel asked.
"She ditched me. Can you believe it? The awesome me," I said, indignantly.
More laughter followed.
"But you're okay, right?" Rachel asked, a little bit concerned.
"Oh yeah. I was only attracted to her beauty. I don't have other feelings, and I don't even know her that well."
I paused for a beat, then added with a smirk, "But I wouldn't mind a 'remember.'"
That got them all laughing again.
The call went on for a little longer, with random jokes and sarcastic remarks flying back and forth.
Eventually, Monica said she had to cook something before it burned, Chandler mumbled something about running from domestic responsibilities, and Rachel told me to call her more often.
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