Page 139 of Bridesmaid Undercover
I drag my hand over my face. Mother of God, what is wrong with me?
I think we all know what’s wrong with me.
I’ve recently stumbled upon the realization that the girl who’s been becoming my best friend is actually the girl I should have been pursuing this entire time.
I’ve probably been pining over her and never realized it.
Maybe all those emails—all those interactions—was me slowly falling for her and not having a goddamn clue.
Moron!
If my life was a book, readers would be shaking their pages, yelling, “Wake up, idiot! She’s right under your nose.”
I probably would have still ignored all the anger from the peanut gallery because that’s how big of a moron I am.
Sighing, I thumb through T-shirt sizes and stop when I reach the larges.
She likes a large shirt.
She likes them big because she wears them with leggings or spandex shorts. I know this because we had a long conversation about it. And she also doesn’t like white shirts on her, she says it’s too stark of a contrast against her complexion. She prefers darker colors, and I think she’s right to an extent. Darker colors look nice on her and make her eye color pop, but fuck, when she wears red…
In my humble opinion, red is her color.
This shirt is red. Should I get it for her? If this was a few days ago, I probably wouldn’t have even given it a second thought. I would have purchased it for her and then surprised her at work. I would have said it was from a friend to a friend. She would have thanked me with a hug, I would have inhaled her sweet perfume and thought,wow she smells good, but never done anything about it!
Jesus Christ.
Like I said, moron.
“Can I help you with anything?” a store clerk asks as she comes up to me.
“Oh, I’m good,” I say with a wave, not really wanting to gab.
“Isn’t that a great shirt?” It seems like the store clerk has other ideas.
“Yeah. Like the pun. I also like that the croissants resemble Danny and Sandy fromGrease.”
The clerk laughs. “That was my favorite part. Never saw a croissant with sideburns before.”
“Yeah, clever,” I say, the humor in my voice barely audible.
“Well, I have more sizes in the back if you are looking for something else, just give me a shout.”
“Thanks,” I say.
And then, thankfully, she walks back to her counter, leaving me alone with the shirt.
Should I get it?
Why would I?
It’s not like I’ve spoken to her in the last few days. It’s not like I’ve answered her emails or even thought about texting her back. And why, you might ask? Because I’m having a hard time processing, that’s why.
Because I’m worried that I have these strong feelings for a girl who has put me wholeheartedly in the friend zone.
Because I like her so much as a friend…and more, but worried that if I actually make the move, I’m scared she’ll say no.
I’m afraid of losing what we have.
