Page 2 of Quarantine Crush
I watch in silence, my stomach in knots, because I know immediately what this is. The “shoot your shot” challenge has been viral on the video-sharing app, FlipFlop, for weeks now. Girls with secret crushes on their male best friends record a surprise kiss, and the reactions range from adorable to cringey.
One guy even pushes a pillow into his female bestie’s face when she goes for it. The sadness and humiliation in her eyes as she ends the video is enough to make me want to cry for her.
Most are well-received though, and by the time I’m done watching whatever compilation video Hadley dug up, I’m feeling slightly more optimistic. Though, I’m not entirely convinced that I won’t vomit at the idea of trying it for myself.
“Well?” Hadley prompts when I don’t say anything. She tilts her head, her platinum locks barely brushing her shoulder as she stares me down. “Easy, right? No big speeches or anything.”
“Oh, yeah,” I snort. “Piece of cake, Had.”
I start to get up, intent on brushing off the entire thing. Hadley grabs me, pushing to her feet too. With an iron grip on my wrist, my gal-pal, and closest friend besides Knox, stares me dead in the eye with a look that would turn lesser beings to stone.
“Embry Hess, you are going to go home and put on your sexiest casual wear, and when Knox Jacobs arrives, you are going to shoot your shot like the confident, deserving goddess you are. Do you hear me?”
I blink.
“Calm down, Had.”
“You’ve been a mess for weeks, Em. Since the moment Knox announced he was coming home, you’ve been distracted. Even before that. Hell, for as long as we’ve been friends. It’s like you two have been in a long-distance relationship this whole time, except you don’t get any of the perks like sexting or the occasional three a.m. dick pic.”
I snort. “Seriously? You’re the only person I know who would consider a three a.m. dick pic a good thing, Hads.”
Hadley shrugs before continuing her rant. “My point is you two act like a couple. You’re constantly sending each other care packages. You Facetime every Saturday and spend hours telling each other about your week. Hell, you guys even share your streaming services.”
“You’re just mad because I won’t give you my login for Disney plus.”
“Friends don’t keep friends from bingeing the JoBros,” Hadley quips before leveling me with a glare. “Now stop trying to distract me with your betrayal. I’ve watched you try to get up the courage to tell him how you feel more than once over the years, merely to chicken out and then mope around when he leaves again. It’s time, girl. You deserve to know once and for all. But most of all, you deserve to be happy.”
I bite my lip against the emotions that threaten to drown me as my deepest secret rears its ugly head. The truth I’ve kept hidden from everyone–even Hadley. I worked up the nerve to shoot my shot with Knox once, and the sting of that failure still haunts me. I don’t think I can handle putting myself out there again and facing rejection. Not from him. But when I look down at the empty shot glass in my free hand, my eyes zero in on the phrase printed in black, blocky letters.You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.
My alcohol-blurred mind takes one look at it and knows it must be a sign from the universe.
I look up at Hadley again, heart racing now.
Maybe it’s the liquid courage she’s plied me with, still, I find myself nodding. Somewhere in the back of my mind, Roar, by Katy Perry is echoing, beating back the uncertainty and nauseating fear of everything that could go wrong with this idea.
“You’re right,” I hear myself saying. Like some braver, crazier version of myself has taken over my mouth. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to lay all my cards on the table this time.”
“Hell yeah, you are.” Hadley squeezes my hand, and the fearlessness in her blue eyes is like a superpower seeping into my skin.
I lift my chin. Square my shoulders. And shove away the paralyzing fear that’s held me back for so long.
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to shoot my shot with Knox Jacobs.”
* * *
“Help me,”I whine into my laptop.
Laughter floats back at me through the grainy connection of our Skype call, and I glare at my three best girlfriends.
“Do you want me to back out?” I threaten. “Because I will, and then you whores will have to go elsewhere for your entertainment.”
My words sober the group.
“I still think you should wear that black dress,” Nina says, pointing to the dress I’ve already discarded on my bed.
“No way,” I say, shaking my head. “I’d never wear that to just sit around my house. It looks like lingerie. It’s meant for the club where you’re wanting a man to think about dragging you off to bed.”
“Are we not sleeping with him?” Nina asks, confused. “I thought we were going for the shock and awe effect.”
