Page 86 of Someone Just Like You

I love that you make me feel adored.

Even when you’re not being very nice.

I love the way we are together.

Both when we get along

And when we fight

But between getting it done

And battling it out

The former wins out every night.

I never meant to push you.

I couldn’t care less what you do.

Athlete, mailman, bartender, doctor

I do truly love you for you.

I lowered the phone and faced my public—four sets of dropped jaws.

“Interesting rhyme scheme,” said Alex.

“Thank you!” I beamed with pride, though I suspected it wasn’t meant as a compliment.

Esther reacted first, clapping slowly. Jerry and Alex followed her lead. Only Jude remained still and silent as if gagged by an invisible muzzle.

I scratched the back of my neck. Unnerved by his lack of reaction, I pressed on. “I never intended to hurt you or make you think I needed you to be some other version of yourself. I was just so ecstatic you’d truly moved on from baseball and wanted to support your actual dreams in any way I could. I see now I pushed too hard, but I was never disappointed in you. I think you’re perfect just as you are. Well, perfect for me, at least. And I promise to always have your back against bratty girls who think you have the cooties, against your parents, against anyone.”

“Beautiful.” Jerry wiped a tear from his eye.

While Esther, Jerry, and Alex’s heads swung back and forth between the two of us like they were at a tennis match, Jude was quiet. It was his turn now. I bit down on my lip on excited tenterhooks for his return monologue, which I fully expected to be better than mine despite being completely off the cuff.

Finally, he stood, his eyes a little wet. “Thank you for the speech and…” He coughed. “Poem. I did not see that coming. Like I said, I’m sorry too. I was out of line. I know you were only trying to help me. I shouldn’t have overreacted and said what I did. But…”

My spirits soared. This was how it was done. Compromise. Owning up to our individual mistakes. Wait. But?“But?”

Jude dropped his gaze and visibly deflated. “No matter how you look at it, we’re so different, Molly.”

Molly. My heart pinched like someone had pierced it with a ten-inch sharp needle. Since when was calling me by my true name a reason to panic? But I was panicking.

Jude walked slowly toward me, his expression softer. “This break hasn’t been easy for me either, but each time I thought about calling you, doubts crept in.”

Why was he talking like we weren’t about to kiss and make up? He was the one who’d initiated the apology. My poem/speech? They were like extra credit.

“Regardless of how we feel about each other now, I’m not sure if we’re…” He looked over his shoulders at our friends. “If we’re right for each other.”

As nervous laughter bubbled through me, I said, “Is being different so bad? Would you rather date Timothy?”

That caused a chuckle from someone in our small audience.

“I’m not saying it’s bad, but…well, you kind of sprung this on me…in front of an audience.”

“You put him on the spot like a proposal at Yankee Stadium. The recipient is always pressured to say yes,” Alex said.

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