Page 25 of If the Stars Align
“Oh my god, Mia! Is this what I think it is?” I ask her, my heart palpitating.
Mia’s cheeks turn bright pink. “We’re not engaged—not yet. It’s a promise ring. Evan gave it to me for my birthday.”
“That’s so sweet! And so exciting! I can’t believe you’re already talking about marriage! Why didn’t you tell me?” The tables have turned. I’m the one bombarding her with questions this time. I can’t help it, I’m just so…surprised.
Mia’s eyes shift to her lap. I can tell she’s embarrassed. “I felt kinda bad bringing it up after you told me how hard the distance has been for you and Dex.”
“Oh my god, Mia, please don’t feel bad! I’m really happy for you!” I’m talking so loudly I’m afraid it borders on shrill.
But Mia doesn’t seem to notice. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, good, because I’ve been dying to tell you! Evan and I would get married tomorrow if we could, but our parents would kill us if we don’t at least graduate first.” She smiles with a dreamy look in her eyes. “It’s so hard waiting though. I just love him so much. I want us to have a home together, and a family—the whole nine yards.”
“That sounds amazing,” I tell her.
It does. I want all of that too, with Dex. Buthewants to be a famous actor. How could we build the kind of life I want together?
“I wish I didn’t have to drive back to school tomorrow. It sucks that our spring breaks aren’t lined up. I know I’m jumping ahead, but I thought it might be fun to look at wedding dresses,” Mia says, her eyes bugging out as if to say,Oh my god, can you believe this is happening?
I can’t.
“Oh well, maybe we can go this summer,” she continues with a shrug. “Anyway, you’re gonna come to Evan’s birthday dinner tonight, right? The new Italian place? Eight o’clock?”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” I say as Mia wraps her arms tightly around me. When she releases her grip, I turn to get out of the car. I need to move fast. I can only hold back my tears for so long.
I wave goodbye as she backs out of the driveway, then practically run up the porch steps to our front door. When I’m in the house with the door locked behind me, I have to stop and take a deep breath.
I shouldn’t be crying. I feel like an awful friend.
I’m happy for Mia, I am. But there’s a sinking feeling in my gut.
If I looked in the front hall mirror right now, I bet I’d be green with envy.
Somehow, I’ve nearly made it through spring quarter. In just seven short days, I’ll be home for the summer and, most importantly, with Dex. But first, I have finals to study for. It’s a Saturday night and my friends are out partying, finals be damned. But my poli sci grade is teetering between a high B anda low A, and if I want to tip the balance, I need to ace this test.
No pressure.
I get back to my dorm room after a quick dinner at the student center, and I’m about to buckle down when I see the flashing red light on the base of my phone. I have two new voicemails. I perk up immediately. I bet at least one of them is from Dex.
This might be the first time I’ve smiled all week. I’ve been in such a funk since spring break. I spent most of it at home alone, reading romance novels and eating TV dinners on the couch. Meanwhile, Dex was having the time of his life with Ben and his friends in Montana. I wondered if this was a glimpse into my future with him. He’d be jet-setting all over the world, a famous actor, and I’d be lonely, and missing him.
The only time I went out over spring break was for Evan’s birthday dinner. And watching him and Mia together—how he sat with his arm around her all night, and the way they gazed into each other’s eyes, and whispered “love you, babe” with mirrored grins—it was both heartwarming andunbearablytriggering.
If I was insecure about my relationship with Dex before that night, now I’m a complete disaster. Anyone can see that Mia and Evan are meant to be, but what about me and Dex? I don’t even know if he’s committed to me, and I’m still too afraid to ask him. Although his play is over and it was a major success (a local theater critic called his performance “stunningly flawless”), he’s been so busy catching up on schoolwork that our calls are still few and far between.
An encouraging message from him is exactly what I need to get me through this last week.
I pick up the phone and listen with a giddy grin that falls flat almost instantly. The first message is from my mom, not Dex. She’s calling to wish me good luck with finals—but it sounds more like a threat than anything else.
The second message is from Mia, asking me what I think of purple for bridesmaids dresses.
I put down the phone and massage my temples. I feel a headache coming on. I open my poli sci book, but I can’t concentrate at all. After about fifteen minutes, I give up and head to the student lounge to read. I’m disheartened that it’s empty—the sight of diligent students always kicks me into high gear. Half an hour later, I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. Luckily, that’s exactly when another student walks into the room.
I give her a little smile and she whispers, “Hey,” breathlessly as she plops her things onto the table across from me. She’s wearing a cropped tank top and a long flowy skirt with sandals. She has a nose stud, and her hair is up in double buns with pretty wisps framing her face. I don’t know why, but my first thought is how different her style is from Mia’s, which is mostly Abercrombie, with the occasional purchase from Gap. The only similarity they share is the shade of their hair, a very dark brown that’s nearly black.
I watch as my unwitting study buddy sits and swings her legs onto the chair facing hers. She reaches for one of the books in her stack. Nietzsche, by the looks of it.This is good.She seems very focused, and I’m hoping her studiousness will rub off on me. With renewed energy, I turn back to my poli sci book. But a few minutes later, she breaks the silence.
“So,” she says, waiting for me to look up. “What’s your story?”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
