Page 31 of Female Fantasy
“Why are you going after this guy?” he asks.
And just like that, I’m dryer than the Coachella Valley.
“That’s none of your business,” I say, crossing my arms.
“You understand that thirsting over a fictional character isn’t the same thing as doing it in real life, right? Have we learnednothingfrom the Great Leviathans Incident of 2023?”
I glare. “We don’t talk about that. Besides, I have no plans to harass him. I would never make anyone uncomfortable or do something they don’t consent to. I just want to meet him.”
“Seriously, Joonie,” he pushes. “I never see you get sad after you break up with any of these dudes. You just get all businesslike. It’s like you dissociate or something. Cut your losses and move on as quickly as possible. Why don’t you take a break from dating instead?”
“Because,” is all I have to say.
“Because what?”
“Because.” My tone is biting, like a rabid dog. “Everyone needs something to believe in, Nico. To give their life meaning. Some people believe in a god that I personally don’t think exists, but if that’s what gets you through the day without being hateful, who am I to judge? Other folks believe in their favorite musician or astrology app. But not me. I believe in love. In soul mates and happy endings—if you make an inappropriate joke right now, I’ll scream—anda great love, onethat could bring the gods to their knees and spin the Earth off its axis.That belief? It grounds me. It gives me purpose, something to live for when my thoughts get dark. Do you think it’s been easy for our family, settling here? In the, like, Vineyard Vines capital of America? I need my faith, Nico. The few times I’ve come close to losing it—after the Sam drama in high school, after Kyle turned on me, after—” I almost sayafter you, but I cut myself off just in time. “Anyway, I’ve very nearly lost myself before. Do you get that? Giving up on love almost meant giving up on myself.” My lower lip starts to wobble. “So no, I’m not going to take a break from dating. I’m going to keep on believing that my one true love is out there waiting for me. Call it eternal optimism or naivety or whatever. But there is value in believing in love. Power in the idea that I am worthy of someone who loves me for exactly who I am.”
For a split second, Nico’s eyes carve a hole through my skull.
The air thrums between us, thick with tension.
The words I left unsaid hang around us like an unsung limerick.
The hint at the abuse I suffered.
The mark Sam left on me.
Nico’s own betrayal. Scabbed over, but still etched into my skin.
“Joonie,” Nico says. “You know you don’t have to be a romantic heroine to have a happily ever after, right?”
Don’t cry, I will myself.Not in front of Nico.
“I know that,” I whisper. “But it’s hard to heal a wound all alone when it’s in a place you can barely reach.”
“But you are already loved for exactly who you are. By so many people.”
We stare at each other for another moment, our breath intermingling and fogging up the windows. Nico swallows. I watch his Adam’s apple bob, and a shiver works its way down my spine.
“You’re cold,” he says.
“I guess.” I shrug. “Can we turn on the heat?”
He shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous to start the engine now.”
“Right,” I say, not bothering to correct him. “Want to snuggle for warmth?”
I expect him to hit me back with his usualI’d rather be skinned alive.
Instead, he gestures for me to come closer.
The moment my head hits his chest, every muscle in my body relaxes. He feels both hard and soft in all the right places, like a human Tempur-Pedic pillow. I inhale the scent of sawdust and sandalwood.
“Did you just sniff me?” He chokes on the accusation.
“Maybe,” I admit. “This is weird, right?”
“Can you not make it more awkward than it already is?” He groans. “I just can’t have you turn into a human ice sculpture on my watch. Teymoor would kill me. Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
