Page 26 of Let It Be Me

We were in his car the day I realized it. He’d just gotten his license that afternoon and had planned to pick up a couple of friends to ride around with, but a mile down the road he decided it was better if it was just the two of us. The windows were open, blowing his glossy hair, and he’d looked over at me with a smile that was pure contentment. The back of my neck had prickled, and it hit me, quiet and fierce, that I was in love.

Harboring a secret love for Lorenzo Rossi hardly made me original at our school. Lorenzo was like a teen girl’s fantasy drawn out of thin air: beautiful but didn’t seem to know it, kind but a little distant, bad boy enough to be dangerous but too sweet to really tear you apart. But none of those girls loved him for the reasons I did.

Lorenzo made it okay to be me. When my boldness stopped being cute and cheeky and started making my life messy, he never made me feel like there was something wrong with me. Other friends either found my self-destructive nature hilarious or a liability they didn’t want to be associated with. Lorenzo didn’t try to convince me I was any of the above. I wasn’t proud that I was always spinning my wheels and never gettinganywhere or that my enthusiasm meant I tried everything and excelled at nothing, but I didn’t feel like a failure when he looked at me. At home and at school, everything I did was disappointing. In between, which was always spent with him, I had someone who liked me the way I was. I was always safe with Lorenzo.

But I saw the girls he dated, and they were nothing like me. They were goal-oriented achievers, sure of what they wanted and destined to get it, just like Lorenzo himself. Even at the height of his wild-child phase, he still managed to have his shit together: He sailed through classes with nothing less than a B, excelled at football and wrestling, had a million friends, and the bright, high-achieving girls he dated reflected that. Meanwhile, I was busy barely passing my classes and carefully selecting the boys most likely to be expelled, imprisoned, or get me pregnant and peace out. I’m just not the girl who lands someone like Lorenzo. Even our friendship went against nature. He might have loved my flawed self, but clearly he wanted a partner who was striving for the same things he was. I knew better than to believe I could ever ask for his heart. So I buried those feelings deep, dated other guys, and clung to him as my best friend. I have no right to anything more.

I’ve just closed my eyes when my phone buzzes at my side.

Brad: You still up for plans on Friday? Just let me know what time.

Brad. I haven’t thought about him in ... days? Last week he asked me out on a date for Friday, which was exciting and also weird. I didn’t even know guys did that anymore. I was supposed to let him know what time I’d be done with work. Of course, that was when I had a job.

I wait for the rush of excitement to hit me again, but all I get is a dull feeling of anticipation. I know I like this guy. I just have to remember why. I glance at Lorenzo, feeling a flicker of annoyance at him. He unleashes years’ worth of emotional angst inside me and now he dreams peacefully. Such a guy.

I text Brad back:

Ruby: Can’t wait. I’m free after 7.

I don’t care if I seem overeager. The prospect of me and Lorenzo together, however briefly I believed in it, has exhausted me, and I need to put it behind me. I don’t want to open that door and find a flicker of hope still burning.

Lorenzo will never be mine.

TEN

lorenzo

I’m supposedto be relieved surgery is over. I’m not. Now the hard part has started.

I hate being helpless. I hate feeling weak when six months ago I was the strongest I’ve ever been. I hate that Ruby is wasting her summer days on me.

Surprisingly, what I don’t hate is Ruby doting on me.

My place has smelled amazing ever since we got back from the hospital. She’s been cooking nonstop, and even though I already knew she’s a great cook, she’s been busting out new recipes the last couple of days, and not one has been a flop. If she’s annoyed by how helpless and needy I am, she doesn’t show it. In fact, I think she likes it. I shouldn’t be surprised she’s a nurturer. Her heart is constantly breaking over lost animals and crying kids and stuff like that. I just didn’t expect her to turn her sympathy on me.

I probably underestimate her, but Ruby’s life is kind of a mess. She’s forgetful, fickle, constantly changing her mind. I love that about her, but reliability isn’t her game. And these last few days, she’s pulled it off brilliantly. For me. No one else would have done that.

My phone beeps with a text. I sigh when I see who it’s from: Alli. It’s like she knows what I was thinking and wants to remind me, actually, there is someone else who would have done that. But she’s the last person I want taking care of me.

“You’re frowning.” Ruby walks in with a tray of food. “Who are you texting?”

I look up from my phone. “You didn’t tell me Alli texted you to check in on me.”

“Sorry,” she says with a shrug, not even a little sorry. “I figured you knew she’d text me at some point. I certainly did.” She sets the tray down on the coffee table and hands me a napkin.

“Why would I know that?”

“Because the girl spends every waking hour thinking about you?”

“Stop.”

“Oh, please, it’s uncomfortable. I mean, she spends five months in the most romantic city on earth and all she does is pine for you.”

“What can I say? Parisian men have nothing on us Italians.” I look over the lunch spread: a fried-eggplant sandwich with marinara and a big arugula salad. “This looks amazing. Thanks, Ruby. Now go to work. You can’t be late for your first shift.”

“You really can’t wait to get out from under my nurse’s thumb, huh?”

“Yeah, you caught me. I’m just dying to trade your gourmet meals for Cash’s undercooked ramen noodles. I still can’t decide if I’d rather spend tonight starving or with food poisoning.”

---