Page 22 of One-Star Romance

“She was so good at it that she got nominated for an award: the Spirit of the School, meant for students who demonstrated exceptional commitment and compassion. Gabby hadn’t been trying to get nominated, but once she was, she set her heart on winning. I mean, you got a certificate AND a small cash prize? I’m not sure if you know this about our girl, but under the surface, she’s incredibly ambitious. She schmoozed, she committed, she was on track to win it all.

“And then, the morning of her final interview with the nominating board, I woke up in excruciating pain. See, the day before, I’d gone to the campus gym with this cute guy who wanted to show me his weight-lifting routine, and, in trying to appear more badass than I was, I worked out harder than I ever had in my life. The things we do for men with six-packs, huh?” she said, as if every single person in that ballroom was her best friend, grabbing a drink after work with her. In response, they leaned forward. Rob even felt himself leaning too, before he pulled back. Because if anyone else but her had been delivering this speech, he would have been just as charmed. This toast was good, but more than the words, it was the way she delivered it, totally at ease, taking the perfect pauses. She was a natural and she knew it.

“But,” Natalie went on, “I ended up getting this rare complication of overexercise called rhabdomyolysis, which involves muscle breakdown and other gross things I will not mention, because I know you’re all trying to eat your individual portions of cod. Gabby found me crying in bed. She rushed me to the medical center and sat with me for hours, holding my hand, refusing to leave my side, no matter that it meant losing out on the award she’d tried so hard for. She never once made fun of me for being an idiot, though I probably would have deserved it. I always thought that she demonstrated the spirit of the award better than anything she might have done in her interview, but still, the college gave it to Emily Weinbacher instead, which was a gigantic mistake.” Nat paused. “Oh hey, Emily!” The ballroom gasped, and she burst into a grin. “No, she’s not here, can you imagine? And look, I’m sure Emily is a great person. But she’s no Gabby.”

Amid all the laughter, Natalie’s face softened with true affection. “Because Gabby is a once-in-a-lifetime woman. And I know she and Angus will have a once-in-a-lifetime marriage. Angus, I bet all those freshmen kids in our dorm are steaming with jealousy that you get Gabby to be your resident adviser through life.”

And that would have been a solid enough closing, but she wasn’t done. “And because I continue to feel terrible about making Gabby miss out on that award, I called up the university’s alumni office last month. They agreed that you deserved some sort of recognition after I made a very persuasive argument, aka promised to donate to them every year for the rest of my life. But joke’s on them, because they did not specify the donation amount, so until I pay off my loans, they will annually be receiving five dollars. Anyways!”

She was reaching down to the paper she’d been carrying earlier, which he’d assumed was a printed-out copy of her speech. Had she brought a prop? Natalie held the paper out for the ballroom to see—fancy-looking, with their college crest on it. “I’d like to present to you the certificate you should’ve gotten all those years ago. Please ignore the asterisk on here where the school stipulates that it’s not an official award.”

“Stop!” Gabby said, tearing up, and the rest of the guests clapped, full of the satisfaction that arrived when a story came back around to a surprising yet inevitable conclusion.

Natalie began to read the honor aloud. “ ‘The university recognizes the exceptional compassion and commitment that Gabriella Alvarez’ ”—she paused—“ ‘and Angus Stoat the Third’ ”—here, Angus let out a bellow of surprise and delight—“ ‘have shown to each other and to the people they love. They truly demonstrate the Spirit of the School, even though Mr.Stoat the Third did not go here.’ ”

Natalie handed the certificate to Gabby, who had happy tears streaming down her cheeks now. “May your marriage be full of compassion and commitment for all the years to come. It’s the two of you, so I have no doubt it will be.”

With that, she thrust her glass of champagne into the air, and the ballroom burst into applause. The toast was a triumph. Rob would’ve admired her, maybe even asked her for tips, in any other situation. She was radiant, a gladiator emerging from the arena with a lion’s pelt on her arm. He would not be receiving any more compliments for the rest of the night. Her toast had eviscerated the memory of his. And when she shot him a look, he knew with absolute certainty something that he’d suspected over the course of the day.

She knew about the rating he’d given her book.

The night he read the novel, finishing it at four a.m., he’d logged on to his Goodreads, skimmed all of her gushing reviews, and typed out one of his own, along with one star. He’d let his finger hover over the submit button for one tantalizing moment. Then he’d deleted it all, determined not to stoop to her level.

Until he saw her again at the rehearsal dinner, looking infuriatingly pleased with herself and pretty in her red dress, accepting compliments on her book left and right, then coming over to him to make a crack about Angus flying them all to Vegas. The moment he returned to his computer, fuming, a whiskey running through him, he pulled up the website and clicked submit on one star before he could talk himself out of it. It was justice. Let the world know that not everyone worshipped at the altar of Natalie Shapiro.

The whole ballroom seemed to be worshipping her now, though. After the dinner portion, Rob’s parents found him at his table. Rob’s father clapped him on the shoulder. “That maid of honor really blew your toast out of the water, huh?”

Rob’s mother gave him a gentle push. “Now, be nice.” She turned to Rob. “Yours was lovely too.” Somehow that faint praise felt even worse.

“Thanks,” he said. Then, desperate to get away, “I should see if Angus needs anything.”

He made his way over to the dance floor, where Angus and Gabby were sweating up a storm in a throng of friends and family.

“Hey, buddy,” he called into Angus’s ear. “Can I do anything for you?”

“Yes!” Angus turned to him and clasped his arms. “You can dance!”

Rob laughed, giving a small shake of his head.

“Come on, Robert,” Angus bellowed. “What is life for, if not dancing?”

Rob had no illusions about it: he was an unfortunate dancer. But then so was Angus. The pond water had caused his curls to dry into a blond halo of frizz, and he wiggled his body like one of those tubular inflatable creatures outside a car dealership. Gabby laughed at the sight, but not in a cruel way, not the kind of laughter that Rob had seen directed at Angus at times over the years. Then Gabby began to shake herself in a similar ridiculous wiggle. A veil of formality still hung between her and Rob, their conversation stilted whenever Angus left the two of them alone. But now, Rob could not stop himself from grinning because Angus had done it. His odd, enthusiastic, openhearted best friend—who had saved Rob from the bullies despite knowing it would make him even more of a target himself—had found a woman who understood him, who saw the full picture of who he was and wanted to walk alongside him through life, to the point where she would follow him into a pond in her wedding dress. And what was more beautiful than that? One had to celebrate. Even if one moved with the range and stiffness of a Lego figurine, one had to dance.

So Rob threw his arms in the air as “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” played, and for the length of one glorious eighties rock song, he lost himself in joy. Then, as the DJ transitioned into “Dream a Little Dream of Me,” he turned to find himself face-to-face with Natalie.

Her cheeks were flushed. A challenging look came onto her face, her jaw set. “I wanted to ask you…” she began, the edges of her words slightly fuzzy with alcohol.

“Oh, yes, Rob, dance with her!” Angus said, jumping in, making assumptions, and Rob and Natalie both gave him a startled look. “A dance for the two people who helped this wedding go so smoothly!”

“Would we say smoothly?” Gabby asked with an affectionate nudge.

“No,” Angus said. “But we couldn’t have done this without you both.”

“Thanks,” Natalie began, “but we don’t need—”

Angus turned to the people in their immediate vicinity as Mama Cass’s lush, hypnotic voice unspooled from the speakers. “Clear some room for our superstars!”

“Superstars!” Gabby shouted, a little drunk herself, leading a round of applause.

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