Page 16 of A Novel Love Story

“But the two kids die,” Prudence replied matter-of-factly.

“Yes,but—and this is the really interesting part—the student posed that because Rosaline denied Romeo’s advances at the beginning—which is what any normal girl would do,right?—the story is actually a satire about the very real problem in the sixteenth century of marrying girls much too young. Julietisthirteen in the play, after all. Romeo’s sixteen. And, to back up the student’s claim, they pointed out that the Montagues and Capulets originated inThe Divine Comedyby—”

“Dante, is it?”

“Exactly. It was really, really fascinating.”

Prudence shook her head. “Nerd,” she said lovingly.

I smiled at her. “Takes one to know one. So, where are we meeting these strangers who will find out our deepest and darkest secrets?”

She laughed. “C’mon, it’s notthatbad. It’s not like we’re giving them our fanfic usernames.”

In the living room, she already had her laptop set up on the coffee table, with the aforementioned cheese board and veggie tray. We sat down, and waited for someone named Janelle (aka JakesNob42), to email us the link to the video call. It came three minutes late, and when we were finally let into the room, I knew we had found our people. There were five others on the call. The youngest—Aditi, wearing a beanie readingSPACE QUEENpulled far over their dark hair—was videoing in from their dorm room under the covers, while Janelle, a slender woman in her thirties, sipped something from a Twihard mug, already in her pajamas with a wrap over her box braids. There was Matt, a larger middle-aged white man with scruffy blond hair and black-framed glasses, and Olivia, who looked about my and Pru’s age, with pink-dyed hair and a white cat pawing at her keyboard. Then there was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen. Dark hair, long pale face with a regal nose, where thin glasses sat on the edge, moles dotting his face like a constellation.He was reading something off-screen until we came on, and then quickly exited out of it. This was Benji.

Pru waved at everyone with an “Evening, everyone! I’m Pru, and this is Elsy.”

I gave a brief wave. “Hello.”

The woman with pink hair tossed her cat off her keyboard for a third time. “Finally!Pru’s told us a lot about you!”

I gave my best friend a cautious look. “She has?”

“Nothing bad!” Pru quickly added. “I promise.”

“But youdohave to answer a question,” said Matt. “To settle an argument we’re having.”

Aditi rolled their eyes under the covers. “It’s not an argument. There’s aclearanswer.”

I nodded.Okay.

Janelle ate a fuego Taaki chip and asked, “Favorite love interest in Quixotic Falls, go. Team Will or Team Jake?”

Benji muttered, having gone back to reading something just off-screen, “No love for Thomas, I see.”

“Or Maya!” Olivia added.

To which Benji replied, “Maya isn’t a love interest.”

“Yet,” Olivia corrected. “I can dream. Oh, orRuby.” She gave a pleasant sigh. “She has such bi wife energy.”

And was one of the best characters, in my opinion. The books were sectioned off into couples, and they were all companions of one another. The first was Junie and Will, the second Ruby and Jake, the third Gemma and Thomas. The fourth was Bea, but her love interest was a mystery. The book wouldn’t come out for a few months, after all.

I gave a laugh. I guess I should’ve been nervous, but there really wasn’t a wrong answer. There were just fun answers. “Will,obviously.”

Pru gave a gasp. “Seriously, not Jake?”

Olivia sighed. “And still, no love for Maya …”

Matt said, “What about Frank? He was the real MVP of the third book …”

Two hours later, after we’d all said goodbye, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. We didn’t talk atallabout the first book, because we’d read them already, and the conversations filled my heart so full, I thought I just might burst.

Pru ate the last piece of cheddar from the cheese board and asked, “So? What do you think?”

I tried to stop smiling, but I couldn’t. For a very long time, it’d just been Pru and me, talking about books we read together, so I didn’t think how different it’d feel to be a part of a group that was just as unapologetically enthusiastic. I didn’t know it then, but it would sate a part of my soul that had been thirsty for connection—for community—for so long, I’d forgotten to water it. I’d forgotten that in it, joy could bloom.

“I think,” I said, feeling like I was still in a dream, “I’m in love.”

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