Page 21 of A Novel Love Story

True. Some people would call this place perfect, even.

I was just overthinking things. Trying to find some flaw in this wonderland—and I needed to stop. Enjoy myself.Relax.

My attention wandered out the window, to all the people and the shops. Down the street, I thought I saw the flash of pink hair and my heart leapt into my throat. There was only one person with pink hair in Eloraton. I scooted closer to the window to see. As I did, my watch caught on the handle of the syrup pot, and I dumped it into my lap. “Shit,” I cursed, quickly righting the syrup, and grabbed a handful of napkins. It was a good thing the syrup was slow, because it only got me a little bit. I scooted out of the booth, muttering about going to clean myself up in the restroom. Anders pointed in the right direction, but I was already on my way.

The restroom was on the far side of the café. The door was squeaky, and the only functional stall didn’t have a very good lock on it. On the back of the door, there were names etched into it, secret messages and smiley faces and signatures, all real, indented under my fingers.

The soap smelled like lemons, and the water from the sink was cool, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ruby was very good at faking a smile. Because I was, too.

I still remembered lying on the living room floor, the carpet scratchy and the bookcases impossibly tall, after finishing Ruby’s story. We stared at the speckled ceiling for a long while, listening to the toddler in the apartment above run back and forth, sounding like a miniature elephant.

“Well,” I had said, after a while, as Pru got up to make us some tea in the kitchen. “I guess that was a happy ending.”

“Of course it was,” Pru replied, coming back into the living room with two cups of chai, and she offered me one as I sat up. “Ruby got her guy. And that kiss in the rain? Delicious. God, I thought she’d strip him down in the waterfall scene and do him there.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Under the waterfall? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Live a little, Elsy,” she chided, curling up on the couch. “What didn’t you like about it?”

I sipped on my chai. The honey had a lavender taste to it. “What about her own dreams?”

“She found new ones. I mean, it’s not reallyrealisticto go off and become a pop star.”

“That’s what bothers me, I think,” I replied, as I joined her on the couch. “Because a romance isn’t supposed to be realistic. If it was, every story would end with everyone dying alone in an old folks’ home.”

“Wow, Elsy. Tell me how youreallyfeel.”

I gave a frustrated sigh. “All I’m saying is why couldn’t she have both? Her dreamsandJake?”

Pru tilted her head in thought. “And Jake’s dreams?”

“Exactly, why couldn’t he settle instead?”

She rolled her eyes. “Elsy, I love you, but I think you think too much about all this. It was a fun romp! They get to stay in Eloraton with their friends and have fun! It’s not that deep.”

Maybe not, but I was sure that if I was ever presented with that sort of choice—between my career and true love, I knew what I’d choose.

So did Pru.

And we were on opposite sides.

So I pushed my feelings down and said, “You’re right. I mean, that kiss in the rain? Todiefor.”

“Right?” Pru sighed. “I want to be kissed in the rain.”

I leaned closer to her and wiggled my eyebrows. “By Jasper?”

She seemed scandalized by the thought.“Eileen!”

I feigned innocence. “What? I thought he was hot …”

“He is but he’s—he’s ourneighbor.”

“A tale as old as time,” I pointed out, and she went pink around the ears.

“You’re the worst.”

“Thank you.” I bumped my shoulder against hers. She ended up dating Jasper. They fell in love. And now they were adventuring around Iceland and I was … here. We grew up on the same romances, we read the same stories, so how after all of that did she get it right, and I got it all so very, very wrong?

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