Page 89 of Don't Be in Love

I’d run to him, catch his sleeve, grab his attention … and then what? Tell him what? Do what?

I think I like you. I think I really like you. I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.

What am I doing?I stood up straight with the haste of a spark.

I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, hoping the rain could wake me. Hoping it could wipe these thoughts away and cure me.

I’m lonely. I just feel lonely.

And he has a girlfriend, you absolute dumbass.

“Ugh,” I groaned in frustration and pushed the balcony doors shut.

I clipped my new telephone booth keychain to my purse before I could think it over. Tugging off my boots and draping my coat over my desk chair, I walked into the hallway.

My feet stopped. Two cinder blocks attached to my legs as I found Sabrina on the couch.

Mia had said they’d both be out late with Sabrina’s dads. But there Brina was, quickly reminding me of what a horrible friend I was.

The guilt in my chest was debilitating. The last time this much emotion clogged my throat was when I told my aunt I’d be moving out indefinitely to live on campus. She said goodbye and let me move in by myself while I watched siblings and parents carry their children’s belongings into their temporary homes.

Something about seeing Brina half-asleep, her head falling into the cushion with such peacefulness, made the guilt so much worse.

I approached her quietly, my feet spreading the area rug. A printout of a highlighted periodic table was on her lap and there was a movie on the TV illuminating the dark room, casting a light across her face.

“Brina,” I whispered, resting my hand on her shoulder.

“Hm,” she grumbled, squeezing her eyelids together.

“You have to get to bed. You have a final in the morning.”

She slowly opened her eyes but didn’t make an effort to move. “This is my favorite part though,” she sighed, trying to focus on the movie.

I turned to watch. The live-actionCinderellawas playing. Cinderella stood at the top of a grand staircase in her blue ballgown. Then it cut to Prince Charming looking up at her in awe, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs.

“I want that. That’s my dream,” she whispered.

You already have so much, I wanted to tell her.Parents, comfortability, security. How’s that not already a dream?

“It’s a movie, Brina. Just a fairytale.” I brushed her bangs out of her face.

“I know. But someone wrote that movie. And that writing couldn’t have all been fictional. Something real must’ve inspired it.”

I closed my mouth and watched the scene with her. Prince Charming pulled Cinderella in and out of his chest, letting her sparkling skirts spin around her ankles.

“One day, I’m going to have a husband that looks at me like that,” she thought aloud, words muffled by the cushion. “And we’re going to have kids and live in a beautiful house with blue shutters. We’ll make pies together, take the kids to flute recitals, create Christmas traditions, and compile new stockings when we have grandkids. We’ll grow old together, and even when I’m eighty, he’ll still look at me like that.” She exhaled, her eyes falling shut again. “It’d be perfect if Dorian turned out to be that person.”

Air stopped moving through my lungs.

“I’ll let you finish your movie.” I brushed her back one more time and then stood, walking back into my room.

She loves Dorian. She loves Dorian. She loves Dorian.

I like Dorian. I like Dorian. I like Dorian.

I was spending too much time around him. That had to be it. I was confusing a budding friendship for romantic interest. Just because he was attractive didn’t mean thatI liked him.

I closed my door and let my nervous breathing run through my chest.