Page 26 of Friendshipped
“I would never have set up an online profile for myself. It feels weird and … just weird. I would have talked to you about it first anyway.”
“You would?” I ask.
“Yes. I would. I talk to you about everything important.” she says. “But when Jayme put it out there, I realized Felicia’s partly right. I’m stagnant. I’m not getting younger. I haven’t had a serious relationship since college. Maybe I should try.”
She says that last line quietly.
I want to say something, to roll over and hover over her and share my heart—to tell her what she really means to me, that she’s my best friend, but so much more. I want to dream about our future together. And right here, under the star smattered sky, on our favorite old blanket, I want to kiss her full, pink lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them to stare off into the darkness, trying to reel in my feelings and sort my rambling thoughts.
Lexi and I lie on the blanket, looking up into the vast moonlight sky together. I love nights like this when it’s just the two of us. How many more of these will I get?
Rob’s right. I need to give Lexi a safe and anonymous way to tell me she feels something for me, or for her to tell me whether or not she considers me an option for more than friendship.
“So, you don’t know anyone in real life who sparks your interest?” I ask, holding my breath after the words are out there, hanging in the space between us.
Lexi’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t really spend a lot of time with anyone but you, Trev.”
“True,” I say.
My heart starts leaping around like the brainiac in the front row of class screamingPick me! Pick me!
“I mean, you know the guys in town, and a few at work,” she says. “None of them do it for me.”
I remain quiet waiting like a man facing the gallows, hoping for a pardon, but knowing his chances are slim. She mentioned me in the midst of her short list of men she knows well enough to date. She may not realize she did, but she led with our time together. If she says she doesn’t know anyone who interests her after including me in her list, I have her answer.
“So,” Lexi says. “There’s no one.”
With those three words, the guillotine drops. She doesn’t feel for me the way I feel for her. I know I have to let Lexi date other men.
9
Lexi
Felicia and I sit on opposite ends of my childhood bed after church. Felicia sleeps here when she comes to visit since mom turned her old room into what she calls the girl den.
From my old bedroom window, I watch Mom and Dad on the backyard bench swing, rocking together. He’s got his arm around her shoulders and she’s leaning into him. The shredded pork simmers in the crockpot, the smell of the rolls in the oven wafts upstairs, and Mom’s side dishes are made and in the fridge.
“I never realized how good we had it growing up,” I tell Felicia.
“How so?” she asks.
“You know. Mom and Dad have a steady relationship. They really love one another. We had good neighbors, a solid community. We couldn’t ask for better.”
Felicia follows my line of sight out to where our parents are sitting.
“Yeah,” she says. “Sometimes the best things in life are right under our noses.”
“I’m toying around with maybe trying to get in shape,” I tell Felicia, wincing as the words leave my mouth.
Giving her something to improve is like throwing krill into the middle of a pod of whales.
I haven’t thought much about my appearance for a few years. Everyone around me loves me as I am. I’m probably what most people would call a curvy girl. Something about throwing myself back into the dating world makes me hyperaware of how people will look at me.
“You have to do what makes you happy, Lexi,” Felicia surprisingly answers me. “You know I only want to see you living your best life.”
“I know you do,” I tell her. “But that saying should be burned to the ground.”
