Page 70 of The Relationship Clause

So far, I’ve had a facial, been wrapped in seaweed, had a steam bath, got rubbed down with a coconut—that was an experience—and now, I’m waiting in a dimly lit room, lying under a buttery-soft sheet in nothing but my birthday suit. I think the lady said I was getting another type of massage next, but I’m not exactly sure what kind on account of the woman’s heavy, European accent.

Ah well. Who cares what comes next? Not me. I’m going to be so tender and oiled up by the end of the day, you will be able to serve me at a barbeque.

I let a contented sigh fill the corners of the room. Soft, melodic tones and nature sounds drift from the speakers on the ceiling, and I take the moment of solitude to grab my phone from the pocket of my robe hanging near me.

Junie: Kiera, I have a confession to make.

I chew on my nail, waiting for her reply. I’ve been going back and forth about whether or not to be honest with my best friend about my feelings for her brother. I almost texted her yesterday but ended up chickening out. It’s not because I’m afraid of her reaction. I have a feeling Kiera would be supportive of me no matter who I choose to date, serial killers and deadbeats excluded.

I haven’t talked to her about it because, for some reason, that makes it feel that much more real.

Like I’m finally admitting, not only to myself but to the universe, that I want this thing between Owen and me to work out. It’s scary to admit this might be for real, and I’m going to try extra hard not to run away from it this time.

I’m also afraid that maybe putting it out there will jinx me.

Kiera: Does your confession possibly involve you and my brother?

Junie: Maybe.

Kiera: Does it also involve some feelings that may have developed for said brother over the last couple of months?

Junie: It’s possible, pig.

Junie: Princess Bride GIF

Kiera: Lol

Kiera: Okay, I’ll stop being annoying now. You like Owen, don’t you?

Junie: Yeah. Kind of a lot.

Kiera: Good. Because I like the idea of you and Owen together. Kind of a lot.

I chew my nail some more, letting her words sink in. They make my chest feel all light and airy. Part of me wants the conversation to end here, but I can’t let it.

Junie: Aren’t you afraid I’m going to run away from him and break his heart?

Kiera: Should I be worried?

Junie: Well…you know me.

Kiera: Yes, I do. And I know how much love you’re capable of giving.

Kiera: Remember how you came to my rescue when we were in college? We were new roommates, barely knew each other, yet you dropped everything to help me in one of my darkest moments. You saved me. Quit selling yourself short, Junie. You can do this. You need to believe you can.

My eyes sting with tears, and I blink hard to keep them at bay.

Junie: Why is it so hard then? I’m so afraid I’m going to mess this up.

Kiera: Fear is natural, especially considering where you’re coming from. Your mom left you, and your dad set an example of running away. It’s hard to break those cycles. What’s important is that you try. Also, and I’m not trying to push you, but I think it might be a good idea to let Owen in on those ghosts from your past if you haven’t already. It might help both of you make it through this.

I set my phone down and press my forehead against the clean, white sheet beneath me. I almost, almost, wish I never texted her to begin with. Because she’s right. I know she’s right, at least about telling Owen everything. Maybe he’s pieced things together on his own, but being open and honest with him would be the adult thing to do.

Adulting is overrated.

The doorknob to the room jiggles, and I’m saved from making a final decision on the matter. I stuff my phone back into the pocket of my robe hanging nearby.

“Oh, hey,” I say, even though my back is to the door and I can’t see my masseuse. I feel guilty for some reason. Like catching me not relaxing is a criminal offense. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

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