Page 3 of Let's Talk About Love
(ButGod, did she feel like giving her tear ducts a solid workout.)
“I’m not having a bad day. I’m fine. Really.”
“You’ve been watching baby animal videos since you got here and I have yet to hear a single giggle float out of this corner. You forget I know you. Something is definitely up.”
“I’ve dubbed this the Misery Corner. I’m infected.”
A girl who looked stressed to death sat two tables over from Alice. She stared at nothing, eyes open, watery, and bloodshot. Her fists pulled the sleeves on her jacket taut. The cuffs stretched across the back of her trembling hands.
Gloom flowed out of the girl in waves, dimming her shine. Goodness, did she look like she needed a hug. Several hugs and probably an hour of silent cuddling. Alice (a steadfast believer in the power of hugs) loved affection but knew it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
Moschoula peeked at Alice’s screen. “I mean, look at that! That at least deserves half a smile.”
Presently, a baby badger rolled around in a pile of blankets, and the sight did make Alice’s heartsqueeeeeewith mounting intensity.
Instead, she sighed.Sighedbefore biting on her lower lip. “I’m fine.”
Moschoula smiled, kind and concerned. Alice loved that they were friends—and not just because Moschoula started making her to-go order as soon as she spotted her walking down the street and gave her free pastries. She had met Moschoula and her friends during a Priderally at school. She was the only girl in that group who didn’t snub Alice for being bi.
(And the only person she met who had an undying love for watching gymnastics.)
Glancing over her shoulder, Moschoula said, “I have to get back. Holler if you need anything.” She grinned as she backed away. “Anything at all.”
Alice nodded before sliding her headphones on. She switched from videos to a music playlist aptly titledNobody Knowsafter a song by one of her favorite one-hit wonders and laid her head on the cool wood of the table.
If she was being honest, she wasn’t in love with Margot, but they had had potential! She had even planned to tell her dad she had a girlfriend (with hopes he would break it verygentlyto her mom). Even her best friend, Feenie, had approved of Margot, which was rare as hell.
(Excluding her boyfriend, Ryan, and Alice, Feenie hated everyone, including her own biological family.)
A pool of tears collected in the space between Alice’s eyes and the bridge of her nose. When she blinked, the first drop crested over and rolled down, splashing on the table. She wiped it away before anyone who cared enough to look would see.
It had all been Margot’s idea. She had kissed Alice first. She had convinced her to date. She had wanted this, wanted her. And Alice had fallen for it and Margot and everything they were and could be. She had believed in Margot and their relationship. Had thought herself to death about it, and each night it resurrected itself in her dreams. Margot made her want this specific brand of happiness. Made her believe she could have it.
Feeling stupid didn’t even cover it.
How could Margot say something like that?
What made sex so integral that people couldn’t separate the emotional love they felt from one physical act?
Love shouldn’t hinge solely on exposing your physical body to another person. Love was intangible. Universal. It was whatever someone wanted it to be and should be respected as such. For Alice, it was staying up late and talking about nothing and everything and anything because you didn’t want to sleep—you’d miss them too much. It was catching yourself smiling at them becausewow, how does this person exist??before they caught you. It was the intimacy of shared secrets. The comfort of unconditional acceptance. It was a confidence in knowing no matter what happened that person would always be there for you.
If Alice couldn’t even tell Margot she was asexual, then no, she hadn’t been in love. This moment, this unexpected ripple in her timeline, wouldn’t kill her. But, universe help her, did she want to press that Fast-Forward button anyway.
(This shit hurt like a bitch.)
(A very persistent bitch that seemed to be trying to claw its way out of Alice’s chest.)
A package of Kleenex landed on the table near her head. Startled, she sat up and uncovered one ear.
Moschoula slid into the seat across from her with her apron slung over her shoulder.
“I’m on break,” she said. “You’re crying. We should talk.”
“Margot broke up with me,” Alice blurted.
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” She nudged the Kleenex toward her.
Alice nodded in acknowledgment of her sympathy while trying to blow her nose without honking like a goose.
