Are you sure you’re okay? You sound … off? Was it because of how I acted? I’m sorry I was such an idiot tonight. I saw you, and I couldn’t take it. I wanted to scoop you up in my arms and hold you and tell you everything. I hate your boyfriend. I know we don’t talk about him. I know he’s important to you, but you are such a bright light in this world, and every time you are near him, he’s like this black hole that sucks away everything. He doesn’t deserve you. Fuck. I’ve messed things up so bad. I want to tell you the truth. I want to stay away from you so I won’t tarnish you.
I botched it up again. One day, I will say what I mean when I speak to you.
Also. RE: Emma and me. Please. We are brother and sister, far as I’m concerned. The media has a field day with us but my feelings for her have never been more than protective older brother.
Lastly, did you mean to close your email with “LOVE” or were you falling asleep?
I wish I would just send this …
* * *
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: I was right again
Kate,
Glad you had a great time. You can thank me later for encouraging you to go.
Charlie sounds like a prat for not being charmed by you.
I saw the picture of said kiss on the internet, definitely just friends.
Get some sleep.
Xoxo
19
Charlie
I slidmy phone away with a frown. Kate sounded off. Forced glee. I hadn’t liked how Pete and his stupid mouth mullet treated her all night. My annoyance at his presence was turning into a different sort of worry.
If I could just know that she was okay.
“Wanna head out?” Harrison asked, appearing at my side. “There’s a pub round the corner, with some good greasy food.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” I had too much anxious energy to go back to his house at this point anyway. It’s not like I was worried about having a drink around these two. If I stayed in, I’d just keep staring at my inbox until I did something stupid like email her again.
The line between truth and fact was blurring with every exchange. I would need to stop responding soon. Or reveal the truth.
The bar was a quaint attempt at a real British pub, complete with union jacks plastered over everything.
“This feels like going to a Taco Bell in Mexico,” Emma said as we sat at the table. Then her eyebrows furrowed, and she added, “Wait. That doesn’t make sense. But something about it feels weird.”
“Like Disney branded ‘authentic British pub experience,’” I said with air quotes.
“Yeah, but the food is pretty good. Try the fish and chips,” Harrison said. “It’s the closest thing out here to home and it’s never crowded. Most of the regulars hardly give two shits about who I am.” He waved over a waitress. Maybe because it was LA, but she hardly reacted to seeing the three of us. That was good enough in my book.
“It wasn’t too bad, was it?” Emma asked me with an elbow nudge once their drinks and my food arrived. “The meet and greet?”
It took me a moment to register her question.
Yes. It was. I had a terrible time, and I wished I could both completely forget about it or have a re-do in which I actually talk to the woman I’ve been daydreaming about for two years.
“It was fine,” I said.
