Page 2 of Lonely Hearts Day

“She’s smart,” he said.

“Well, Jane Austen was,” I said.

“Same thing,” he replied.

I agreed.

“So what needs its own day?” he asked, steering us back on track.

“Oh! Singleness.”

“Singleness?”

“Yes, couples get celebrated all the time. They buy each other cute gifts for every arbitrary milestone. ‘We just hit six months, let’s have a dinner date. We know what color each other’s eyes are, here’s a basket of treats. We both said the words ‘bless you’ at the same exact time, we’re so connected; let’s make an Instagram post about it.’”

“I don’t think anyone has actually done that last one.”

“They’ve done the less hyperbolized version of it, and you know it.”

He laughed. “So you want to take back love? Turn it into hate?”

“No, not love. Just the day that’s been chosen to collectively celebrate it. Like I said, love gets celebrated enough. We need a day to celebrate singleness. Because let’s be real, there’s just as much to celebrate on this side. I don’t have to spend money on flowers. I don’t have to keep track of pesky milestones. I didn’t have to text anyone when I woke up!”

“You texted me when you woke up today,” he said.

“But I didn’thaveto.”

“True. You’d make a good ambassador for independence.”

“You’re right, I’m the most independent.” When you’re born seven years after your older two siblings, after your parents thought they were done, you’re afforded a lot of freedom. “So are you with me?”

“I’m so with you.”

“Good, invite all your single friends. My house. Tonight. Seven. We’re having a party.”

His eyebrows popped up. “You’re throwing a party on the same day as the love-fest party?”

“It’s not in direct competition.”

“Same night, same time. Isn’t that the definition of direct competition?”

“No, not at all.”

“You just want to make Micah mad.”

“I don’t!” But I did.

Micah had been our friend up until he hit the sixth grade, when we suddenly became too nerdy for him. We liked all the same things he liked. At least, we did until he decided those things weren’t cool enough. I could still picture his snide little face as he’d marched up to us on the playground that day.

“Want to work on the Death Star today?” Jack had asked. They’d been building Lego Star Wars together forever.

Some other kid had laughed, and Micah had narrowed his eyes at Jack and said, “Aren’t you too old to like Legos, nerd?”

Anger had rushed through my body, and I’d jumped up from the bench where I’d been reading and shoved Micah to the ground. He fell hard, landing on the cement path that surrounded the playground. That’s when I’d heard a sharp whistle from the yard duty teacher. She’d sent me to the office immediately, where I was suspended for two days. Worth it. While I was on suspension, Jack told me that Micah said he was too good to be our friend. That he wasn’t going to hang out with us anymore. I didn’t care about Micah, but knowing Jack did made me want to push him all over again.

The memory still filled me with a white-hot rage.

Jack was more forgiving than me, though, and said things like,let it go. He’s just insecure.But today wasn’t about that.

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