Page 25 of What I Like About You

Because now I do. She’s Molly Jacobson. Nash’s IRL best friend. Wow. Meeting Nash is enough to process. Being introduced to the people in his IRL world? People who are now a part ofmyworld? It’s too much. Online, talking to Nash as Kels, it’s easy to forget that he haspeople, real people, outside of Book Twitter and blogging.

He’s my best friend. I’m his bestinternetfriend.

I hate that distinction.

Nash and Molly swap schedules and discuss The Situation. AP overlaps, study blocks. Important details, like who’s where when. They’re calculating how many minutes they can possibly spend with their core crew until the final bell rings at two-fifteen.

Meanwhile, I’m counting down the minutes until I can go home and update my blog and messagemyNash, not the actual human sitting a foot away from me.

“I have the second lunch block,” Nash says.

“Me too!” Molly says.

“Third period study?”

“Fifth.”

“Damn.”

Molly glances at her cell. “Sawyer is second lunch too—and, hey, so is Autumn!”

“Sweet, Le Crew lunch is complete.”

I pretend I’m studying myWelcome to Middle-of-Nowhere High School!pamphlet. Then pretend there’s someone on the other side of my phone, not just the overwhelming amount of OTP emails I already have at eight in the morning.

“Halle,” Molly says, “what lunch block are you?”

I look up. “Second,” Nash and I say.

Molly swats Nash’s arm.

He shrugs. “What? We have, like, the same schedule.”

“Dude, it still sounded creepy.”

“Whatever.”

Molly looks at me. “Nash’s creepiness aside, you can totally sit with us. We can introduce you to everyone.”

I should say no. Given our near-identical course load, it looks like Operation: Avoid Nash is already a no go. He’s going to be a part of my Middleton life whether I like it or not. But if this morning’s disaster showed me anything, it’s that I should keep things strictly academic between us. I shouldn’t socialize with him. I shouldn’t get to know Le Crew. I shouldn’t get to knowhim, IRL.

Still, lunch is always, without a doubt, difficult on day one. I see myself standing in the cafeteria, frozen, with no choice but to crash Ollie’s sophomore table. So despite my self-imposed No-Nash Policy, I nod, and Molly smiles.

I’m grateful I have some sort ofplace, any sort ofsituationthat does not involve a massive panic attack. Now Ollie and I canpretend not to know each other at lunch, like normal siblings do.

And it’s just lunch. It doesn’t mean we have to be friends. It’ll be great.

It’s not great.

I’m the seventh seat at a six-person table, which is uncomfortable in an infinite number of ways.

In dropping my fork on the floor and awkwardly trying to decide if I should squeeze out and maneuver my way back to the cutlery station or sayScrew it, I didn’t want my salad anyway.

In being wedged between Molly and Nash.

In brushing shoulders with Nash multiple times—and feeling like all my secrets are going to spill out of my soul every time I do.

In checking and rechecking that I’ve silenced my cell, just in case Nash sends a DM to Kels.

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