Page 39 of The Romance Rivalry

As I get closer, I see Jeannette, the tall regal redhead already there. I lift my hand, about to shout my greeting and wave, when Charles appears next to her. He wraps his arm aroundher neck and pulls her in close. She folds herself into him and they embrace.

As friends of friends do.

Except the entire front of her body is plastered to the entire front of his, and his other hand travels down her back to her... oh...

I jump behind a bush and hide, not wanting to expose myself as a voyeur. And I have to get my bearings, because I’m pretty sure my very best friend, who I tell everything to, is maybe sorta having some kind of romantic thing with the best friend of my enemy. And I never even knew they’d caught feelings for each other.

She’s never mentioned even one bit of this to me.

And worst of all, the selfish, ugly bit that sits deep inside me wonders how it is that everyone can so easily find love but I can’t even get close.

Do I play it cool? Do I act like I didn’t see anything? Do I come clean and ask her what’s up?

I take out my phone and type the text.

Me:I’m so sorry but I can’t make it to the bookstore. Meeting with prof ran long. Say hi to the romance section for me.

I watch as Jeannette looks at her screen and furrows her brow for one second. But then she looks back up at Charles and smiles, and the two of them walk away, hand in hand, ashappy and clearly into each other as can be.

And I, per usual, turn and walk in the opposite direction, all alone.

I’m tempted to put my earbuds in and pretend I’m busy when Jeannette gets back. But I don’t want this to come between us. So I wait patiently, and when she opens the door and I see the smile on her face, the vise on my heart releases a little bit and I smile back.

“Hey there. I got you something,” she says. She walks over and drops next to me on my bed, opening up her bag. She pulls out a book with a cute librarian type and a guy with tattoos on his arms illustrated on the cover. “The bookseller said this is a new one by a debut author that just came out. She highly recommended it.”

I look down at the book and back up at Jeannette. “Thanks, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today.”

“No worries, everything okay?”

I nod, but the look on Jeannette’s face says I’m not being convincing.

“I don’t want to lie to you,” I say, not able to hold it in any longer. “I showed up at the bookstore a little early and I saw you, um, there, with, uh, Charles.”

“You did?” She pauses. “Oh, you saw us.” She starts to giggle. “Well, we were gonna actually tell you today when you came, but...”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice. I know I’m new to this friend thing, but I tell Jeannette everything, and realizing that it might be one-sided stings... a lot.

“Well, we were kinda flirting, but I didn’t think anything of it. And then it just kinda happened the other night. We went out to dinner and whether it was the relief that midterms were over or the shared laugh over the romance competition, the spark just ignited. I really was gonna tell you right away today. I don’t keep secrets from you, you know that.”

I look up at her and don’t see any sign of a lie or a cover-up.

I let out a deep sigh of relief. And then I fall back onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“I like the two of you together. It’s a good match,” I say.

“Thanks. I mean, it’s new, so who knows. I wasn’t looking for anything, but I do like him.” She lies down next to me, both of us eyes upward. She reaches for my hand. I place it in hers.

“Can I say something without sounding like a dick? I mean, I might sound like a dick because I think it’s gonna be a dick thing to say. But I don’t want you to think I’m a dick.” My mind is a garbled mess that has made its way down to my mouth.

Jeannette laughs and squeezes my hand.

“Why does it feel like it’s so easy for everyone else and so impossible for me?”

“What do you mean? You’ve been going on a lot of dates recently,” she says.

“True. But I don’tfeelanything for any of these dates. Not even a blip of attraction. There’s no longing, no chemistry, no...”A small elevator, the intoxicating smell, his body leaning into mine.

“It takes time. You haven’t given any of these dates even a second chance. It’s not a race,” Jeannette says.

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