Page 100 of Betting on the Best Friend
“Charlie thinks it does.”
“Why does Charlie think it matters?” My dad’s forehead furrows. “I figured he’d be doing heel clicks or something.”
“We haven’t talked about the kiss yet because Niles interrupted—”
“Whoa, what?” Ava yelps.
“When we were kissing, Niles interrupted us and accused me of cheating with Charlie while we were together.”
They all look at me.
“Honey,” my mom says, “maybe you better back up and give us the whole story.”
So I do. When I finish, Joey rubs his hands over his face, my dad looks bewildered, Ava is wearing her equation-solving expression, and my mom is shaking her head at me.
“You aren’t usually my hot mess child, but today . . .” But she’s smiling. “What do you think Charlie is going to say when you talk to him about this kiss?”
“That I’m turning it into something it isn’t,” I answer. “That I’m letting it confuse me about my own feelings.”
Ava frowns. “Bold of him to assume he knows how you feel better than you do.”
“If it wasn’t Charlie, I’d agree,” I say. “But there are times when it feels like he knows me better than I know myself.”
“And he thinks you’re confused because . . .” my dad prompts.
“Because he thinks I’m going to talk myself into being with him because that’s what I do,” I say. “Or he thinks I do. I drift into relationships because it’s comfortable for me.”
Joey rubs his chin. “This isn’t that?”
I scratch my neck and look for the right words. “I’ve spent days thinking about that. After that Pitch-a-Friend date, I wondered. I know everyone there thought we should be a couple. I forced myself to pay attention to my brain. Heart.” I press a hand to my stomach. “And here. This is where most of my clues came from.”
My mom nods, well aware of how my stomach reacts to any intense emotion. “What do they say?”
I touch my head. “I know I love him. Always have.” I move my hand to my heart. “It seems like this kind y’all are talking about.” I press both hands to my stomach. “But this is a mess. Just why now, why now, why now, nonstop.”
“Want my theory?” my mom asks.
“As long as it’s something I want to hear.”
She smiles. “You’ve always felt safe with Charlie. To be yourself, silly, flawed, angry, passionate about your causes. Everything has changed. You know how he feels. You know you have chemistry. Do you still feel safe?”
I draw my knees up to my chest to rest my chin on them. “I worry a lot about saying the wrong thing. I have to think carefully about everything coming out of my mouth. It’s stressful, and it didn’t used to be.”
“Do you worry because you think he’ll think less of you if you say the wrong thing?” my dad asks.
“No. That I’ll hurt him.”
Mom makes a soft humming sound. “But you can still be fully you?”
I nod.
“Then you have your answer.” She reaches over to brush my hair from my eyes and smile into them. “How does that make you feel?”
I love Charlie. I’minlove with Charlie?
My hands relax on my stomach as it settles.
I’m in love with Charlie.
