Page 65 of Between Love and War
Kate rolls her eyes and lifts her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Please, it’s the loser game in high school. There’s this guy who taught me how.”
“And here I thought you never had a boyfriend.”
“I haven’t!” she says quickly. “He wasn’t a boyfriend. He was barely a friend. I mean… I liked him. At the time. And I thought he liked me back. But turns out he just needed someone decent enough to play with for the interschool chess tournament, and I was the nearest warm body who knows what the chess pieces are called. He stopped talking to me after we won gold.”
“Ouch.”
Kate shrugs. “I read way too much into it. Which isn’t shocking. I’m a hopeless romantic.”
I look at her. “And… you’restillone? I’d have lost all belief in love.”
“That’s not surprising. You’re a big, giant quitter.” She chuckles to herself. I don’t tell her that if I were a big, giant quitter, I’d have given up on basketball in high school.“Kidding,” she adds. “But yeah, I still dream about the grand, sweeping love stories.”
I narrow my eyes at her in confusion. “Really? You’re still holding out for the big romance? Sparks flying? Epic declarations in the rain?”
“Maybe not the rain, I don’t wanna get pneumonia,” Kate says. “But yeah. I don’t know. I still want it.” She holds out her fingers as she lists her life plan. “Meet someone, get the sweeping declaration of love, marriage, and two kids. That’s it. That’s the plan.”
“That’s it? The whole plan?” I ask.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be brave and do something else. But I don’t know.”
“Okay…” I say, unsure if I should prod. I don’t. “Well that’s still pretty nice. Most people wouldn’t admit they still want that stuff.”
We’re not playing chess anymore. Just sitting on her bed, facing each other.
She shrugs again, this time smaller. “I mean… it’s not like I have people lining up to deliver grand gestures. Or gestures in general. Or even, like, a mildly enthusiastic wave.”
“Well, maybe they just don’t know how to approach you.”
Kate raises a skeptical brow. “Approach me?”
“You give off a vibe,” I say, gesturing vaguely. “Like you’re about to assign homework if someone breathes too loud.”
She shakes her head, laughing now. “So what, you’re saying I need help being more approachable? I am literally the kindest person in Magnolia Heights.”
“I’m saying,” I reply, “if you want the sweeping romance and the sparks and the poetic confessions under mildly threatening weather conditions—you might need a little… charisma training.”
Kate gives me a long look. “You’re offering to train me. In charisma. You. Who doesn’t answer press questions and doesn’t do interviews,” she says, deadpan.
“That’s by choice, Katie, not because Ican’tdo it. I can be charismatic when I want to be,” I say. “And yeah, maybe ‘train’ is a bit much. I’m simply… nudging you.”
I don’t know what I’m doing. Am I really offering to help her be more appealing to guys? Are we that kind of ‘friends’ now?
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “How are you even going to do that?”
“For starters, you’re either too kind or too deadly. You need to find that sweet middle,” I say.
“Thisisthe sweet middle,” she says, gesturing to herself.
I chuckle, and so does she. Kate finally reaches forward and starts putting the chessboard away, sighing like she’s accepted that the game isn’t happening. We’ve been sitting here too long, talking instead of competing.
“Forget it,” I say. “You’re gonna do just fine on your own.”
“No,” she replies. “Maybe you can just, give me unsolicited feedback from time to time. If I’m talking too much, not talking enough, babbling about irrelevant stuff.”
I laugh. “Sure, Katherine, I’ll try.”
Then she yawns, soft and sudden. The meds must be kicking in.
