How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,19
be fine for a minute. Where’s Mom tonight?”
“Working a double,” Buzzy said.
“You okay at home by yourself?”
Buzzy nodded.
“You’re always welcome to crash at my place,” I said. “I can talk to your mother.”
“I’m good,” she said. She closed her books and dropped them to the ground. She stood and walked her chair closer. “I like being alone. I’ve been texting a boy.”
“Ooohhh,” I said.
“A boy?” Miss Crabapple asked. “What boy? Who is he?”
“Oliver,” she said. “He’s cute. Super cute.”
“Just texting?” I asked.
“Of course,” Buzzy said. “I’m not like some of the other girls.”
“Good,” I said.
“Boys are weird though,” she said.
“Wait until they turn into men,” Miss Crabapple said.
“I’m just feeling confused,” Buzzy said.
“You’re thirteen,” I said. “That’s normal. Don’t get too caught up in it.”
“My one friend Megan says she’s in love. Her and her boyfriend tell each other they love each other. I don’t feel that way though.”
“Nobody said you had to,” I said.
“You be smart for yourself, Buzzy,” Miss Crabapple said. “Make those boys chase you. Don’t you go chase the boys. Make them earn it.”
“Earn what?” Buzzy asked.
“Nothing,” I said. I pointed to the wine bottle so Miss Crabapple would drink some more. I looked at Buzzy. “What’s got you confused?”
“How I feel, I guess,” Buzzy said. “I like Oliver. I just don’t know what to do next.”
“Just trust yourself,” I said. “Maybe you two can meet up outside of school. At a park or something. Maybe go to a movie.”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Buzzy said. “Boys…”
I laughed.
I knew that feeling all too well.
So much so that I looked at my phone and felt my throat squeeze for a few seconds.
Buzzy was confused over boys and I was probably just as confused.
I had sent Jon almost fifty text messages.
Nobody knew about that except me and him.
He didn’t reply to a single text.
I guess when he exploded in front of everyone at the bakery and called it off, I thought it was just frustration. Like a fight between us.
But it was real.
He wanted nothing to do with me.
I hadn’t seen him or talked to him since that time.
And I needed to stop texting him.
I could not become that woman.
I put my phone away.
“Emily, tell the kid about your first love,” Miss Crabapple said. “Tell her it’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Buzzy said. “Will you tell me about your first boyfriend? Or crush?”
I opened my mouth.
Images of Liam flashed through my head way too fast.
Like they were conveniently stored there…
I felt my cheeks turn red.
“So his name was Liam?” Buzzy asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Liam. We were friends for a long time and then had feelings for each other. But… and this is a big but… we waited too long.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we kind of just danced around how we felt. Which is fine. Again, you’re a teenager. However, you asked for the story and I’m telling it. I had to move and the night we decided to tell each other our feelings… well, nothing happened.”
“You missed out on it,” Miss Crabapple said. “What about now? Track him down?”
“I know where he is,” I said.
I swallowed hard.
“So?” Buzzy asked. “It sounds so romantic.”
“He’s with someone,” I said. “Engaged to be married.”
“Screw that,” Miss Crabapple said. “You break that wedding up and get your man back.”
I laughed. “It’s not that easy. And I don’t think we should be talking about this with Buzzy. She’s confused as it is.”
“I love this story,” she said. “Tell me more.”
“I wish there was more. There’s not. Time… you know what? This is about you and Oliver. Not me and Liam. If you like Oliver, then keep texting him. And see where it goes. Don’t go by what other people say or do. That’s my best advice, okay? You will never be able to make everyone happy, Buzzy. So make yourself happy.”
“That’s solid advice,” Miss Crabapple said. “I’ll drink to that.”
She took another sip of wine.
Then she began to cough.
She slowly leaned forward and kept coughing.
I took the wine bottle from her hand and watched her.
She didn’t like when someone offered her help.
When she reached for my hand, I knew that was her version of asking for help.
“Ready to go home?” I whispered.
She nodded.
“It hurts tonight,” she whispered. “Everything.”
“Should I call someone?”
“No,” she said. “I just need rest.”
“Okay,” I said. I looked at Buzzy. “We’re going to get going. I’m tired.” I winked at Buzzy.
“Me too,” Buzzy said. “I’m going to finish my homework and text Oliver.”