Page 83 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“You still haven’t answered me, Erica.”

“Sorry. I just feel so alive.”

“You feel alive?” she repeats after me and offers a warm smile. “I guess you feel alive because you are alive. And I’m so gloriously, wonderfully happy about that.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I lean back in the booth, grabbing my quesadilla and taking another cheesy, creamy bite. The food is delicious. The guacamole is top-tier. And yet, all I can think about is Tyler.

“You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“How did you know when you were in love with my brother? How did you really know?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I just felt it in my heart. It was the way he made me feel when he smiled at me. It was the way I thought about him when he wasn’t there. It was the way that, no matter how much I hated him or didn’t want to be around him, there was still a spot for him in my heart. Why are you asking?”

“Just because.”

“You think you feel that way about Tyler?” she asks. “I’m your best friend, Erica, and I’m not going to judge you.”

“I mean, I know you’re not going to judge me. But I feel like if I say it out loud, it makes it real. And if it makes it real, it cements it out there in the universe. And whenever you cement something like that in the universe, it often leads to heartbreak. And I’m just not ready for heartbreak. I just want to enjoy it.”

“Because you’re worried he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“He definitely doesn’t feel the same way. He’s different from me, and that’s okay. This is my first real love story, I guess. He’s my first lover; he’s my first everything. And I guess I’m not as naïve as I was before. I don’t necessarily think that this means he’s my last. I understand now that this just means that it’s... something. And sometimes somethings end.”

“How poetic.”

“What? I’m not trying to be one of the Brontë sisters.”

“I know. How are you feeling about the podcast? About the fact that we now have thirty-five people who’ve listened tosomething my brother’s invested a lot of money into... that I thought was going to make us rich and famous?”

Sabrina nods. “Just because we didn’t kill it with the first episode doesn’t mean our next episodes aren’t going to do really well.”

“I know. And actually, I’m okay with it. I mean, I’m not okay with it—my pride still hurts, and I’m disappointed. But I’ve realized something that I never realized before: it’s okay to fail. It’s okay to have to start over. It’s okay to not be okay. I guess I’ve been lucky that my own existence has been pretty good.”

Sabrina nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” She grabs her glass and drinks some water, then takes another slice of quesadilla and munches on it. “Erica, we’ve been best friends for a really long time, and you’ve always had things that I didn’t. But I want to tell you that I never—not once—felt like you took your life for granted. I never felt like you looked at me differently. I never felt like you thought you were better than me. Just in case you were worried that was how you came off.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” I sigh. “It’s not even about the fact that I’m worried people think that I think I’m better—because I don’t. I’m more worried, or not necessarily worried... but more concerned about the fact that—what have I ever done to really give back? I mean, yeah, I tried to help you out a little bit, but that was because of my own vested interest in our friendship and caring about you. What have I done for the bigger picture?”

“You don’t have to figure it all out in one day.”

“I know.” I change the subject. “Did I tell you that Tyler is so very talented?”

“You did. Maybe five times.”

“He created this painting of the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m just mesmerized. Like—it actually sold. And for ten thousand dollars. I mean, he doesn’t need the money, but how cool is that?”

“That’s really cool. I wish I’d seen it in person.” Sabrina nods.

“The museum curator, Pierre, asked him if he’d be willing to show his other painting in the next exhibit. But he said he’d think about it. He doesn’t think it will sell because it’s an anatomical picture of a heart. But weirder things have sold, right?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina studies my face and then grins. “I think you may have met the one, Erica.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think this man could very well be your soulmate.”

“He is not my soulmate. He’s just a guy that I met, who turns me on, that I’m having fun with and is just nice to be around.”

“But he makes your heart pitter-patter, right?”