Page 92 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

“Such a drama queen,” Aurora says from my other side.

“You do have to be present, yes,” I say.

The three of us are seated at our little kitchen table, each of us with a brand-spanking-new Rubik’s cube in our hands.

Well, Aurora and I are holding ours. Jules is trying to push hers away. I return the Rubik’s cube to her, nudging it against her head where it’s still rested dramatically on the tabletop.

“We’re being supportive,” Aurora says, her eyes glued to her cube, her face determined. She’s home from work a little early today; her pencil skirt and blouse have already been replaced by leggings and a t-shirt, but her hair is still in its sleek ponytail.

This isn’t normally her kind of thing, learning how to solve a Rubik’s cube, but she’s never one to shy away from a challenge.

“I would love nothing more than to be your moral support!” Jules says, finally lifting her head. She looks at me, her gaze pleading. “I will support you with every single click of that little thing.” She nods at the cube and then at the paused tutorial on my laptop. “Just please don’t ask me to solve it. How about I bake us a treat instead?”

When I hesitate, she pounces.

“Any treat you want!” she goes on quickly, her eyes shining now. “Cookies, cupcakes?—”

“No cupcakes,” Aurora and I say at the same time.

“Brownies, or there’s a crumble recipe I’ve been wanting to try, too,” she goes on.

Aurora and I glance at each other, and then she shrugs.

“I wouldn’t say no to a crumble,” she says.

I sigh. “Me either. Fine,” I say to Jules. “You can make a crumble while we do this.”

“Absolutely,” Juliet says. She jumps up and scurries over to the fridge, much happier than she was when I told her we would all be learning to solve Rubik’s cubes. “It will be delicious, I promise.”

I’m sure it will. And by the time that crumble is ready to eat, I will be the master of this colorful little cube in my hands.

I did debate actually setting up a dating profile on the site I signed up for, but ultimately, I’m not ready. I’ll get there, I’m sure.

Ugh. Why do I feel like I’m in high school again? Liking someone, figuring out if they like you, getting over it if they don’t—these are things teenagers do.

Who knew it was something adults do, too? There’s just something so juvenile about it. Something about crying over rejection feels so silly. I don’t even know Felix that well. It’s not like we’ve spent our entire lives together.

So snap out of it,I tell myself firmly.You’re done helping with the article. You won’t need to see him anymore, so you can get over him quicker.

The article. Now that I think about it, it’s supposed to release soon. Sometime this week, maybe?

The thought isn’t even all the way through my mind when my eyes prick with tears. They sting, and then my vision blurs, and then?—

“Oh, no! No, Indy?—”

I’m aware of the hurrying of feet, and then two sets of arms wrap around me.

“This is so stupid,” I say through my tears, slumping against Juliet. I know it’s her because she smells sweet, like sugar and strawberries. “Crying over a boy is sostupid.”

From behind me, Aurora speaks, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’re just sad,” she says. “It’s not stupid to be sad.” Then, speaking over my head to Juliet, she whispers, “Say something!”

“Just cry,” Jules says. “Get it all out. I don’t think you can rush these things. Feel sad for a while.” She swallows—I can hear it, pressed so close to her—and then she says, her voice full of tentative dread, “Should we do that Rubik’s cube thing? And then maybe we should bake a carrot cake?”

I’m not sure if the sound that tears out of my throat is a sob or a strangled laugh.

FELIX

There aresome things you learn about yourself as you grow older that you sort of wish you’d remained ignorant of.

---