Page 3 of The Romance Rivalry

“I should’ve gone with Allie Jensen’s group instead. Thechicks were hotter,” Liam says.

“You seemed interested right up until I rejected you,” I say under my breath.

“I wasn’t interested,” Liam protests. “It’s a rite of passage to get laid on prom night and I just needed a warm, willing body.” His self-satisfied smirk is my last straw.

And this is where I’m reminded how romance novels have served me. I know what a hero looks like. I know the kind of love and respect we all deserve. Why am I wasting my time here?

As gracefully as possible while decked out in a fitted prom dress in the back of a moving stretch limo, I crawl to the divider between us and the driver and knock. The glass lowers.

“Could you drop me off right there in front of the In-N-Out?” I ask, pointing to the big red-and-yellow sign on the corner at the upcoming stop light, where a long line of cars is wrapped around the parking lot.

“Wait, Irene, what are you doing?” Jamie asks.

“I’m outta here, friends. Have fun at the hotel and the after-party. I’ve got some smut to get home to,” I say, looking directly at Liam. He can try to use that word as a derogatory term, but I won’t let him.

“Why are you always so dramatic? It’s no big deal. No one meant any harm by it. Don’t go. Come party with us,” Jamie says.

My time in high school has always been laced with being disregarded, misunderstood, and not taken seriously. I don’t need to feel special. I just want to be seen. I can’t wait to get out of here and start fresh in college.

“No thanks. I’m just gonna grab an Uber here. Have fun, though,” I say.

The limo stops, and I open the door, step out, and head home.

“You’re home early,” my mom says from the kitchen as I unsuccessfully try to sneak into my house without being noticed.

“She went to the prom without a date, Mom. What did you expect? I can’t believe you and Emo guilted Jamie into taking Irene with her and her friends.” That would be my older sister, Cybil. She’s a skincare model, meaning her face is on the brand packaging of some big Korean skincare brand. She’s a joy to have around.

And while she may be blunt, she is not a liar.

“You guys made Jamie invite me?” I ask. Well, that explains the out-of-the-blue invitation. They probably paid her, too.

My mom tilts her head and her face scrunches into a pained, apologetic smile.

“Never mind, it’s done with. And you’re right. It was a good experience just for me to go,” I say to appease her guilt. No use in both of us feeling crappy about this night. I’ll take one for the team.

“Kiss-ass,” Cybil says under her breath.

“Did you make funny faces while taking pictures?” my little brother, Eugene, asks. And as long as we’re giving out résumés for my family, he’s ranked number one in the country in junior golf. A prodigy.

“Come have ice cream with us, Irene,” my dad shouts with his head in the freezer. He uses his hip to close the door, arms full with a variety of flavored pints.

I let out a long-suffering sigh, toe off my incredibly uncomfortable sparkly sandals, and head to hang out with my family for a few.

They’re not awful; well, Cybil most definitely is awful. But, I love my parents, and Eugene is the freaking cutest thirteen-year-old you’ll ever meet.

But whenever we’re all together, it’s impossible not to be reminded that in the grand scheme of my family, I’m the ordinary, unexceptional middle child. My sister is gorgeous, and her face is all over Ulta, Sephora, and Olive Young in Korea. My brother is incredibly gifted, and you can hear sportscasters on ESPN and KBS talking about how they’re amazed at what he’s able to do at such a young age. They’re both regarded as the best in their respective fields.

And then there’s me.

I’m an online book reviewer. And though I’ve managed to make my hobby into a pretty successful gig, my family stilldoesn’t quite understand the importance of what I do and the amount of work it took me to get here.

But all of that could change with this pending brand deal.

SKCupid, South Korea’s biggest dating app, wants to sign me for a huge paid content deal. Six figures to start, with an opportunity for more. I’d get to talk about romance novels and plug their product as a way for people to find real-life love. I’d kinda be the face of the brand, the face of romance, in the motherland. I might become more recognizable than either of my siblings. It’s a dream partnership and would make my years of hard work building up my platform worth it.

Then my parents will have the best skincare model, the best junior golfer, and the best romance book expert out there. I won’t just be the awkward middle child who they think “plays too much on the internet.”

My mom, an avid reader, thinks it’s fun that we can read books together and squeal over our favorite book boyfriends. And my father? He likes to brag to everyone he knows about the one thing that I, the middle child, bring to the table: I’m going to college at his alma mater in the fall. Still, fact is, I’m just not as interesting as my siblings, and that’s possibly most obvious when we’re all gathered together around the table. They do their best to include me in all the conversations, but the struggle to keep their interest is real.

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