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Chloe
“Thesearethebestfrenchfriesihavevereaten,” I saywith a mouthful of potato deliciousness. Finn and I are sitting in his car in the parking lot of a drive-thru diner in Hollywood, takeout food in our laps. I’m glad to see my baseball player eats burgers and fries once in a while. If he’d ordered a salad I may have had to switch him for Giancarlo. Just kidding.
“I’m happy you’re enjoying them,” Finn says. “So, about this curse…”
My head falls back against the seat. “I was hoping you’d fuhgeddaboudit.” Apparently when I’m drunk I also try and talk with a New York accent.
“I could, but I’ve got some indirect experience with them so maybe I can help. I’m not superstitious myself, but I have teammates who are and believe they’ll be cursed if they don’t do certain things.”
He has a point. And maybe a fresh perspective will help with the wretchedness that is my love life. “Promise not to think it’s crazy?”
“I can guarantee you I’ve heard crazier.” He turns and casts an understanding gaze on me. “I promise.”
I take another bite of my burger. I’ve only confided in Jillian and my dad about this. And they both think it’s not me. A twist of fate, wrong guy, terrible timing—those are the descriptions they like to use. “I’m a reverse good luck charm. Every time I fall in love my boyfriends end up meeting the loves of their lives and drop me like I’m hot.”
Finn fights a smile.
“This isn’t sunny. I mean funny.”
“I know. So, they drop you like it’s hot—” one corner of his mouth quirks up “—catching you by surprise?”
“Yes.”
“That sucks.”
“Tell me aboudit.”
Another quirk. “It’s happened every single time?”
“Uh-huh.” I pop a fry in my mouth. “This last time was the worst, though. Leo broke up with me on our one-year anniversary. I thought he was gonna proposition me. I mean propose to me. Instead he introduced me to Adele.”
“The singer?”
“Yo funny.”
He laughs lightly. “I could say the same to you. So, this is why you don’t want to date anymore?”
“Yep. I’m done with men. Not this burger, though, so no more talking.” My cheeks burn from confessing something so embarrassing and hurtful. To be put in the same awkward position several times must mean there is something wrong with me, I don’t care what my dad and Jillian say.
Finn obliges my request, finishing his food before I finish mine. I’m nearing the end of my hamburger, stuffing my face, and so engrossed in eating, that I don’t have time to stop the special spread from dripping out the bottom of the bun and landing on my dress. Normally, this wouldn’t be the end of the world. But not tonight. I look down to find a giant pink-orange splotch on the bodice of my gown.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. No!” I drop what’s left of my burger into the paper bag holding my fries then gather up some napkins. What do I do? What do I do? I don’t want to accidently rub the sauce into the delicate material. I lightly dab at the stain, trying to soak it up, but I make it worse instead. “Shit!”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Finn’s soothing words are not what I need right now.
“It’s not okay.” Tears build behind my eyelids. “This is my bridesmaid dress for my best friend’s wedding. I’m the maid of honor and I’ve ruined the dress. She’s going to hate me. Then she’s going to kill me.” I lick a napkin then wipe at my chest some more because the stainhasto come out.It has too.
Finn takes hold of my wrist. “Slow down there. I’m sure it can be cleaned.”
“What do you know about cleaning?”
“I’ll have you know I did my own laundry in high school and if I can get dirt and grass stains out of my baseball pants, I can help with that stain on your dress.”
I sniffle. “That is totally different. We can’t put this dress in the washing machine. Look at it.”
“I have been. All night.”
His cerulean-eyed disclosure burrows under my skin. The air inside the car grows heavy, Finn’s admission turning our discussion into something else entirely. Something I’m finding harder and harder to ignore.
