Page 1 of Love and Other Chances

Chapter one

At the chime of the doorbell, I drop to the floor behind the kitchen counter.

My knee bangs against the tile, but I don’t dare cry out.

“Teegan! Are you there?” Loud knocks accompany the voices calling my name through the door.

I sneak a peek around the edge of the cabinet. A cluster of girls’ faces peer in the window beside the front door, visible from the kitchen. I opened the curtains this morning to let in the natural light, but now I regret not closing them when I got home a few minutes ago. Gina, my roommate and coworker, isn’t home, so I was simply standing in the silence until the doorbell interrupted.

“Teegan! We’re leaving to go swing dancing! Are you coming? Are you in there?” the voices clamor. I hold my breath, my body as still as death, afraid that they’ll sense I’m home if I move an inch.

“I thought she was coming, but maybe not.”

“Maybe she’s meeting us there.”

“I’ll text her.”

My eyes widen with panic. I reach a hand up to the counter and feel around until I find my phone. I quickly unlock it and switch it to silent a second before the text comes through. Breathing a sigh of relief, I click the screen off and listen as the girls retreat from the door.

I sit up, leaning my back against the cabinet. Closing my eyes, I breathe slowly, gulping in the silence.

What am I doing?!

My eyes fly open.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I unlock my phone and pull up FaceTime, typing in the names of my two best friends, Amaya and Lana. I hit the green call button and chew on my lip, hoping they’ll answer.

Lana’s face appears first. Her waist-length brunette hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and her green eyes are filled with concern. “Teegs? What’s up with the impromptu video call?”

Before I can answer, Amaya joins the call. Her forehead is beaded with moisture and furrowed with worry. She’s outside, wearing an athletic tank top with her coily hair slicked back in a low bun.Leave it to Amaya to be out for a run on a Saturday evening.

“What’s going on, Teeg?” Amaya asks, breathing heavily. “We have our regular group call tomorrow afternoon—what made you call now?”

“Can’t a girl just want to talk to her Beefs without everyone questioning her motives?” I respond, forcing mirth into my voice.

The three of us have called each other “Beefs” ever since we met freshman year of college. When Amaya didn’t like the term “besties,” I started calling us “Be Fris” like the first half of a “Be-st Fri-ends” necklace. The nickname quickly got shortened to the single syllable “Beef.”

Despite the fact that we’re mature adults three years out of college, the term of endearment has stuck with us.

Unfortunately, my Beefs see right through my attempt at levity.

“Uh, no,” Lana responds bluntly. “You have way too much going on to video call us out of the blue. Especially on a Saturday night.”

A voice calls from the background of her video. “Everything okay, Lana?” Her screen moves as she stands, and a second later I see her husband’s face next to her.

“Yeah, babe, I’m going to go talk to Amaya and Teegan in our room for a minute,” Lana responds before planting a kiss on Mateo’s cheek. They started dating at the beginning of our senior year of college and were married just over a year later. They’re so obsessively adorable that I almost forget the reason I called.

“Okay, what gives, Beef?” Amaya asks as Lana closes the door and flops onto her bed.

Lana squints her eyes. “Where even are you?”

“Ummm, sitting on the kitchen floor,” I answer.

“Why?” Amaya asks.

“Uhhh, because I’m . . . hiding,” I say.

“You’re hiding? Are you in trouble?!” Lana’s voice rises with the question.

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