Page 31 of Friendshipped
I wonder if garlic would have the same effect on her as it has on vampires. It’s obvious the mirrors and sunlight aren’t doing a thing to slow her down.
“Today’s all about my sister, though,” Felicia says, steering us all happily back on track. “Tonight, she has a hot faux date with Trevor.”
“Not a date,” I say. “Definitely not hot. It’s a work thing.”
“A faux date,” Felicia repeats as if her words will confirm her absurd idea.
I glance at Laura and Shannon. “He has to review a restaurant in Columbus. I tag along for these things because anytime a food critic orders too much food, it’s obvious they’re doing a review. He needs to be incognito. If I’m along, we can swap dishes like an old married couple and no one’s the wiser. That way he’s able to taste more selections.”
I look at each of them in turn. “See, not a date. A work thing.”
I rest my case.
“Okay,” Laura says. “Whatever you say, Lexi.”
I turn to Shannon. She’s the only one left I might convince.
“It’s always been friendship between you two,” Shannon says, lifting one side of her mouth in a pinch while shrugging her shoulders. “If something datey were going to happen, it would have already.”
“Thank you,” I say, relieved that at least one of my closest people seems to have sense, but simultaneously feeling disappointed. I missed my chance for something datey to ever happen between Trevor and me.
I take the seat at Laura’s station, ready for her to work her magic. Laura gives me a trim and style while Felicia supervises and offers her stamp of approval. Then Shannon insists on doing my makeup. She’s really talented, but only does it for fun. She’s the receptionist at her father’s accounting firm for her actual job.
While I’m getting my haircut and makeover, I silently rehash the episode at my dorm Junior year and inwardly cringe. Despite the almost-kiss in high school, I never imagined Trevor would be interested in anything beyond friendship. And then the one time he tried to ask me out, I was dating Guy. After Trevor left my dorm, he didn’t talk to me until that Christmas—it was the longest three months of my life.
When Guy and I broke up, I swore to myself if I ever got a chance to let Trevor know my feelings for him, I would. But things were so awkward when Trevor and I got home that summer. I couldn’t risk pushing something when everything felt so precarious between us. Maybe I should have reached out then and tried to make something romantic happen.
Since we graduated and started working at the paper, I’ve searched for signs that Trevor might still have any interest in me. Nothing. And the biggest neon sign, flashing a bright blinking “no way,” was the conversation I overheard him having with Rob yesterday.
He obviously moved on. Maybe Trevor’s feelings for me really were more of a passing thing while mine have only gotten stronger with time. Yesterday he basically foisted me on the male population in the greater Dayton area by helping Felicia in her mission to set me up on the app.
Like it or not, I have my answer. I just have to accept it and move forward by seeking someone else and hoping they end up making me forget any feelings I ever had for Trevor.
“Take a look at you,” Shannon says, spinning the chair toward the mirror so I can see myself. I have to say I feel prettier than when I walked in.
“You two are the best,” I tell Laura and Shannon.
“And me,” Felicia adds. “I’m the best too, and don’t you forget it.”
“How could I, with you here to remind me?” I tease her.
* * *
After Felicia dropsme off at home, I change into a dress I haven’t worn in a while. Yes, it’s red. No this still isn’t a date. I research the level of dressiness needed for each of the places Trevor takes me. This one needs a little extra, so I’m obliging.
I hear Trevor’s knock.
“Come in!” I shout from upstairs as I grab my shoes and descend the staircase.
When he comes into view I say, “Why did you knock?”
He’s standing staring at me like I have something on my face. I turn toward the mirror at the bottom of my stairs. Nothing seems off except that I look made up and coiffed for a date.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Trevor says, swallowing. “You look great.”
“Thanks. You keep saying things like that,” I remind him.
