“Eric, I love this song. Let’s go dance.” Mom doesn’t evenwait for him to respond before she grabs his hand and drags him toward the dance floor.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Jaxson announces, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and asking, “What’s that face for?”
I’m furious that I failed my team and am not afraid to admit that I’m a sore loser. I hate my own attitude sometimes. I’m not even sure why I’m so upset right now—just that I am.
“I’m just not feeling veryautomatic supersonic hypnotic funky freshthis evening,” I answer.
Wren snorts a laugh beside me. “No. You clearly are not. I figured if anyone could win at Christmas trivia, it would be you.”
“Well, I feel like the Grinch right now, so Bah-humbug!” I wrap my arms around myself and continue to pout.
My brother eyes me for a second as he runs a hand through his curls. “Actually, Scrooge is who says that.”
He winces when I smack him on the arm. “Trivia is over! Go home to your adorable wife.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll see y'all later. Good luck with her,” he tells Wren before making his way through the bar, giving Luke a pat on the shoulder before leaving.
I turn in my seat to get a better view of the dance floor and search the growing crowd until I see my parents in the middle. Their dance moves are super cringy, but I admire their carefree nature with each other. I think what my parents have is worthy of a Hallmark movie. It's the kind of love that I dream of having one day.
I want to findmysomeone who I can sit on the couch with in blissful, comfortable silence with something I've baked sitting on the coffee table and my feet tucked under his thigh. I want to share all my happy, sad, funny moments with him forever, but it’s beginning to feel like that will never happen for me.
“I heard something about you,” Wren sing-songs, downing the rest of her drink.
I turn and scowl at her. “Go hear it again, because I don’t care.”
She ignores my grumpiness and continues, “That you’re dating two guys?—”
“Wren! You’ve been back in town for, what, a month, and you’re already believing the gossip?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I didn’t say I believed it. Just that I heard it. Did you forget that I work at a coffee shop, where people love to ‘spill the tea’?” she chuckles. “Do you want it to be true, though?”
“No, of course not!” I snap before going into the details of the horrible date I had last week and what led to the rumor being spread.
Once I’m finished, Wren studies me curiously. “Huh,” is all she says.
“I’m done with dating. If you see me catching feelings for anyone, do me a favor and throw a brick at my head.”
Wren laughs, bumping her shoulder into mine, and her hair tickles my neck. We fall into a silence, and a familiar sadness is shared between us as we watch our parents dance together. We both want what they have.
I remind myself that whatever I’m dealing with is nothing compared to what Wren has been through. She thought she’d found her forever person, only for him to ask for a divorce just two years into their marriage, claiming they moved too fast, that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. I can’t begin to imagine how that kind of rejection must feel.
She must see the concern on my face, because before I even open my mouth to ask if she's doing alright, she abruptly says, “You shouldn’t give up on love just because of some bad dates.”
Her words catch me off guard. If anyone has a reason to give up on love, it’s Wren. And yet, for a split second, I let what she said sink in and find myself respecting my sister even more.
“Lots and lots of bad dates,” I add, earning a grin from her.
“You just haven't found the right guy,” she says, her eyesroaming around the bar until they stop, and she smirks. “What about Luke?”
My heart pounds as soon as the question leaves her lips. I follow her line of sight until I spot Luke chatting with some of his co-workers. He laughs before our gazes lock, sending a bolt of awareness down my spine, making my palms begin to sweat with the rise in my blood pressure. And then I feel it, a tiny fluttering in the pit of my stomach as I realize that he somehow always senses when I’m looking at him.
I try to ignore the fact that he’s given me butterflies twice within the last week and return my attention to Wren. “He’s my best friend.”
“Yes, he is, but he could also be?—”
“We can’t, Wren. And you know why,” I cut her off, squeezing my hands together—a nervous tic of mine—as I’m reminded of what happened after Luke didn’t show up on our graduation night and how much work we had to put into rebuilding our friendship after that.
My heart feels like it drops to the floor. There it is, the familiar looming sense of dread that comes with having your heart completely shattered, reminding me that if I’m not careful, it'll happen again. And I can’t let that happen again.
