Page 35 of Kiss Me, Maybe
“That can’t possibly be true,” she says, dumping nearly an entire container of parmesan into the pan she’s working in. “I saw you reading a historical romance a few weeks back. What do you like about them?”
“About romance books?” I ask, surprised that she remembers, and she nods. “Living vicariously through made-up people’s romantic lives, probably. Guess I have that in common with a lot of my followers.”
“Why historical in particular?”
“This might sound reductive, but I like reading about women who are still virgins,” I tell her. “It’s one of the only times I can actually relate to a character in romance. In contemporary, there seems to be this unwritten rule that leading women who are still virgins in adulthood are at best unbelievable, at worst un-feminist, so you rarely see them as muchanymore. I think we can all agree that the 1800s was one of the worst eras to be a woman in, but I think it’s kinda nice to see the female characters in these books fight back against the rules that constrain them, including the whole virginity equals purity thing.”
“I never thought of it like that,” Krystal says, grabbing two plates from a cabinet. “I remember getting into an argument with my mom over the plot of one of those books.”
“What was the plot?”
“I hated how women were described as ‘ruined’ after having sex out of marriage, or evenperceivedto have. I can’t imagine my whole future being taken away from me after one kiss in the garden all because some nosy busybody was out trolling for gossip.”
“And now they’re forced to be married. You’d probably hate to know that’s one of my favorite tropes.” Her eyes bug out at me as she hands me a plate. “But the heroine can gain freedom after being ruined too—as long as it’s by the right man willing to strike the right deal, that is. And then they surprise themselves by falling in love in the process.”
“Does reading these romances ever make you want one for yourself?”
“More like it quenches my thirst for one,” I explain, twirling my fork in the pasta. “It works for a while, anyway. Makes me feel a little less alone.”
We don’t want you to be lonely.
My mother’s words come unbidden.Am I lonely?A few weeks ago, definitely. But that hollow feeling in my chest gets a little bit smaller the more Krystal and I hang out. If there’s nolonger a scavenger hunt, does that mean we won’t see each other as often anymore?
“Are you okay?” she asks when I’ve been silent a moment too long.
I glance back up at her. Heave a long-suffering sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“I like long stories.” She flashes an encouraging smile, taking a bite of food as I explain.
“My parents went to San Juan a couple of weeks ago,” I tell her. “They seemed worried about leaving me.”
“Why would they be worried?”
“Before they left, they said something I can’t get out of my head, about them not wanting me to be lonely.”
“Are you?” She looks at me beneath her lashes. “Lonely?”
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, but it does nothing to thwart the sudden stinging sensation in my eyes.
“Yeah.” The reply comes out breathless, like it takes every spare breath I have to get the single word out. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
I can’t stand her looking at me the way she is, the concern and pity swimming in her eyes beneath her creased brows. But she won’t leave me alone. Krystal follows me to the sofa, both of us leaving our food behind, and takes a seat beside me, so close there isn’t an inch of space between us.
“I’m a good chameleon,” I say. “It’s how I got through college without anyone knowing I’ve never been kissed. I figured the kind of shit people would say if they knew, so I did everything I could to bury the truth. I hid in plain sight.”
“I remember.” She nods. “You had Jacob wrapped around your finger when he worked at the bar.”
Jacob worked at Havana Bar around the time Marcela and I graduated college. He was cute, with his boy band haircut and easy grin. Huge flirt too. After a bit of back-and-forth, we made a deal that for every free drink he put in my hand, he’d earn one digit of my phone number. Unfortunately for Jacob, the ninth drink resulted in his termination.
“He was in the Reddit thread we found earlier. I’d totally forgotten about him until then.” Krystal shoots me a disbelieving look, and I shrug. “What? It’s not my fault he was forgettable.”
“Did you end up giving him the final digit?” she asks. “He did risk his employment for you.”
“About that.” I bite down on my bottom lip. “Aside from the area code, I was giving him random numbers the entire time.”
“Angela.” Her tone is quelling, but her mouth is wobbly from holding back a grin. She gives a single shake of her head before bursting out a loud laugh. “Poor Jacob.”
“PoorJacob? He’s currently telling anyone who’ll listen that I led him on and got him fired!”
