The Upside of Unrequited

by Becky Albertalli

  The train passes Rhode Island Avenue, and Olivia tucks her knees up and rests her chin on top of them. Which is a pretty impressive position to assume in a Metro seat, especially when you’re six feet and change. She tilts her head toward me and smiles. “So, Will texted you?”

  “Um. Sort of?”

  “How do you sort of text someone?”

  I close my eyes and lean back. “I don’t know. Well, I think Cass and Mina forced him to.”

  Olivia giggles.

  “No, I mean it,” I say. “I’m pretty sure Cassie made Mina harass him until he did it.”

  “So Cassie forced Mina to force Will to text you.”

  “Exactly.”

  Olivia’s tiny smile. “Yeah, you might be overthinking this.”

  But here’s the thing Olivia doesn’t get. I’m not trying to overthink things. I’m trying to be less careful. But you have to be your heart’s own goalie.

  And if I’m going to be rejected, I want to see it coming.

  I WAKE UP TO MY phone buzzing: four texts from Abby.

  Were u drunk texting Simon on my phone last night?!

  And I’m not a squib!!!!

  (What’s a squib??)

  Did u seriously get drunk?

  I can’t move yet. I stare at my light fixture. I’ve never noticed this, but it’s collecting a thin layer of dust. And a bulb is burned out. I should fix that, eventually. Maybe when I’m slightly less catatonic.

  But I really should get out of bed. It’s the Fourth of July. That’s actually a pretty big deal in our neighborhood. There’s a parade, with papier-mâché animal heads and clowns and entire floats dedicated to composting. That is a thing here: moving platforms decorated to honor decayed perishables.

  Cassie’s rustling in the bunk bed above me. “Oh hey,” she says finally, her voice thick with sleep. “You up?”

  “Kind of.”

  She laughs. “Me too. Ughhh. Last night was . . . something.”

  I’m scared to know what she means by that. Maybe something happened after Olivia and I left. Maybe Drunk Cassie evolved into Drunk-as-Fuck Cassie, or even the ultimate Shitfaced Cassie.

  I don’t even want to imagine what Shitfaced Cassie might have said about me to Will. Shitfaced Cassie is not known for her carefulness.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something neutral. Anything. My Fourth of July outfit: a pale denim shirtdress over navy leggings with white stars. And I don’t care if anyone side-eyes me for wearing leggings in July, because I am not here for chub rub. Also, they’re very patriotic leggings.

  But then Cassie shifts, and the bed creaks, and I’m nervous all over again. I feel like the two negative ends of a magnet. Like there are parts of me that can’t come together. If Cassie did say something to Will, I want to know. But also, I never want to know.

  “Hey, so I invited Mina to the parade and fireworks and stuff,” Cassie says suddenly.

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Are you cool with that?”

  I sit up slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because . . . I don’t know.” I hear her yawn. “I know that’s usually our thing.”

  And it’s true: normally Cassie and I watch the parade together. And yes, under normal circumstances, the idea of Mina tagging along might bother me a little. But I’m so preoccupied by boy drama right now that it barely even registers.

  It occurs to me that this may be exactly why Cassie wants me to have a boyfriend in the first place.

  She hoists off the top bunk a moment later, sliding in beside me under my blanket. “Anyway, you and Will were so cute last night.”

  “Um. Okay.” I hug my knees.

  “For real. He was totally flirting with you. Mina gave him so much shit after you left.”

  “What did she say to him?” I blurt.

  Cassie just smiles, and I feel this wave of quiet panic.

  “Cassie! What?”

  “Oh my God. Stop worrying!”

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because you actually like this guy, and it’s so fucking cute. Crush number twenty-seven, right?”

  “I don’t have a crush on Will.”

  Cassie laughs. “Okay.”

  “Wait. Did you tell him I did?”

  “Molly. No. Stop freaking out.”

  “Okay.”

  And for a moment, she’s silent.

  “But, like, okay. Real talk,” she says finally. “This boyfriend thing. Do you actually want this to happen?”

  “I don’t know. I guess so.”

  She rolls her eyes. “That’s a yes. And that’s great, okay? You’re allowed to want this.”

  I bite my lip.

  “But at some point, you have to put yourself on the line. You know?”

  Okay. I know she’s right. I mean, my brain knows it. But I can’t seem to get the rest of me on board. It’s like trying to hold my breath. There’s this protective thing inside of me that opens my mouth, unpinches my nose.

  “I know,” I say.

  “Like, say Will knew you were interested. What’s the worst that could happen? He’d reject you? So what? You move on to crush number twenty-eight.”

  Move on. So what.

  But there’s this awfulness that comes when a guy thinks you like him. It’s as if he’s fully clothed and you’re naked in front of him. It’s like your heart suddenly lives outside your body, and whenever he wants, he can reach out and squeeze it.

  Unless he happens to like you back.

  I don’t want to third-wheel it with Cassie and Mina, so I end up going to a parade-watching party near the Dance Exchange with my moms. And Xav. And Grandma. Wild times. It’s hosted by these people Nadine knows from baby group, so the party is full of babies.

  I am seventeen years old, and this is my social life.

  Xav immediately starts climbing on some other baby’s stroller, and my moms and Grandma drink lemonade on the front steps. All the adults are super relaxed. There are boobs out all over the place, and half-naked toddlers with foam pool noodles, and cloth diapers everywhere. I recognize a few of the adults, who seem to know I’m one of Xavier’s sisters, but don’t know which one. I don’t think they actually care which one I am. They mainly seem interested in where I’m applying to college.

  I mean, maybe I should start carrying flyers with my list of schools, ranked by preference. Or maybe—maybe—these random adults should reflect on why they give a shit in the first place.

  “Hey,” Nadine says, catching my eye. “You okay?”

  “What?”

  “You seem, like . . . kind of surly.”

  “I’m feeling kind of surly.”

  “Okay, well, now you’re smiling,” she says. “Way to ruin it.”

  But she’s right: I am surly and moody and not quite myself. This must be a hangover thing. Or a Cassie-making-my-brain-hurt thing. Either way, I am clearly unfit for human company right now. But then I glance across the street, just in time to see Reid step onto the sidewalk.

  Reid Wertheim. Here, of all places. And he looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him. I cross the street to greet him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” He points to a little blue bungalow.

  “No way.” I grin.

  He grins back, and for a minute, we’re both quiet. But my heart beats really quickly, and it’s actually kind of nice.

  “So, what are you doing here?” he asks.

  “I’m, uh.” I glance across the street at the party house, and of course, Patty, Nadine, and Grandma are all watching me. BREAKING NEWS: MOLLY IS SPEAKING TO AN ACTUAL BOY. TUNE IN NOW AS THE STORY UNFOLDS. I mean, at least my moms have the dignity to glance away when I catch them. Grandma gives me a thumbs-up.

  I turn to Reid quickly. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Oh. Sure!” He does this flush-cheeked kind of smile. “But I have to be back at the store in about forty-five minutes. I was just grabbing lunch.”

  “Wa
it, I don’t want you to miss your lunch.”

  “I don’t care. I’d rather walk around with you. Really.”

  Oh. My heart is pounding. Why is my heart pounding?

  We walk up Maple, and I feel tongue-tied. Not even tongue-tied. I mean, my tongue isn’t the problem. It’s my brain. It’s like this:

  Me: Hey, brain. Let’s think of something cool to say!

  Brain: UHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

  Me: Okay, it doesn’t have to be cool. Just something semi-coherent . . .

  Brain: UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

  Me: COME ON, BRAIN, GIVE ME SOMETHING.

  Brain: *white noise*

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Hey, how’d the cookie dough turn out?” Reid asks finally.

  “Oh!” I laugh. “I actually did save you some.”

  “Really?” His eyes light up behind his glasses.

  “Really! And it came out awesome.” Finally, finally—something unlocks in my brain, and I’m me again. “I think it tastes better than regular cookie dough. The consistency’s slightly different. But in a good way. You’ll like it.”

  “I know I will.”

  “We can grab it right now, if you want. It’s just at my house.”

  Which is two blocks away. I live two blocks from Reid.

  I have to admit, there’s something quietly thrilling about this. I’m bringing a boy to my house. For cookie dough purposes. Totally platonic. But still. A boy. My house.

  “You know, I didn’t put this together before,” Reid says, following me through the back door, “but I actually walk by your house sometimes with my cat.”

  I smile up at him. “With your cat? Like on a leash?”

  “Yeah, it has a little harness thing on it. But just the gray cat. Elefante.” He shrugs. “The other ones aren’t into it.”

  “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you walking a cat in front of my house.”

  “Maybe I should stop wearing my invisibility cloak.”

  I laugh and head toward the kitchen. “So, the cookie dough is in the fridge. Do you want vanilla ice cream on top?”

  He tilts his head. “Do I?”

  “I think you do.” I open the fridge and dig it out from behind Patty’s extensive Greek yogurt collection.

  He beams when he sees it. “You put my name on it?”

  I did. Which, of course, necessitated a very brief trip to Facebook. Not to stalk. Just to confirm the spelling: Reid, as opposed to Reed. But yes, Reid Wertheim has a Facebook profile. And yes, Reid Wertheim is Single. Not that it matters. I just happened to notice.

  “Oh, right—you need ice cream,” I say quickly.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m about to be ruined for all other food, Molly.”

  And I’m about to make a wiseass comment about Mini Eggs, but there’s a sudden burst of laughter from upstairs. I’m so startled, I almost jump. I definitely thought Reid and I were the only ones home.

  But then I hear Cassie’s voice, and Mina’s low, husky laugh, and oh.

  OH.

  And all I can think is this: DEAR GOD. PLEASE LET THIS NOT BE SEX. Is that even a thing? Daytime Fourth of July sex? Because I’m pretty sure I won’t survive overhearing sex in the presence of Middle Earth Reid.

  I look at him. He looks at me. And then I hear the familiar creaking thud of Cassie’s footsteps on the stairs. She and Mina appear in the kitchen doorway moments later.

  Fully clothed. Holding hands.

  “Whoa. I didn’t know you were home,” Cassie says.

  “We just got here.”

  “Aww, Molly, you look so cute and patriotic,” says Mina. And then she looks up at Reid. “Oh hey!”

  Reid looks startled. “Hey, Mina.”

  I look back and forth between them. “Wait, you know each other?”

  Reid nods. “We go to school together.”

  Cassie peers up at him. “But I don’t know you.”

  “Oh. This is Reid,” I say, trying to sound casual. Which shouldn’t be this difficult. This should be an effortlessly casual situation. “And this is my sister, Cassie.”

  “Ohhhh. You’re the guy from work,” Cassie says.

  There’s this hanging pause, during which Reid nods, and I blush, and Mina looks at Cassie, and then the freezer starts beeping. So, I shut it quickly, and pass the ice cream to Reid.

  Super casual.

  Though now Reid knows I’ve mentioned him to Cassie. Which is pretty great. Let’s just add him to the list of guys who now think I’m obsessed with them.

  “Anyway, Olivia’s meeting us at the cheesecake place,” Cassie says. “Come with us.”

  “Right now?”

  She nods. “Put some ice cream in there, and let’s go.”

  Reid has to go back to work, but he walks with us up Tulip Avenue, hugging the jar of cookie dough to his chest. He and Mina end up talking about this teacher from their school, and I’m still kind of thrown by the fact that they know each other. It’s not like I mind. But it’s this little shift in my head.

  And I guess it kind of sucks that he seems to have forgotten about me. I mean, maybe this teacher they’re talking about is a really interesting person. None of my teachers are that interesting, to be honest.

  But when we get to the cheesecake bakery, Reid turns to me suddenly. “Okay, well,” he says, and his hand hovers close to me, like he’s about to rest it on my shoulder. Or maybe he’s about to hug me.

  Maybe.

  It would definitely be cool if my brain could keep functioning right now.

  But there must be a force field around me, because Reid whips his hand back and wraps his hands around the mason jar like a baseball bat.

  “Cool. Well. I guess I’ll see you at work,” he says, waving briefly. Then he grips the mason jar even tighter and starts walking toward town.

  “I can’t believe you work with Reid Wertheim,” Mina says, pushing through the door of the bakery. She holds the door for Cassie and me. “I’ve known him since first grade. He’s so sweet.”

  “Just like someone else I know,” Cassie says, grinning and elbowing me. Because that’s the word I get, too. Sweet. I’m pretty famous for it, actually. Every yearbook I own is filled with: Ur the sweetest. Stay sweet. Sometimes spelled like “sweat.”

  “He’s kind of cute,” Cassie adds. “What’s his deal?”

  “Reid?” Mina asks.

  “Yeah, like is he single?” asks Cassie, and my whole body goes on high alert.

  I mean, Reid’s Facebook profile said Single. Capital S Single. But maybe he’s one of those people who never updates his profile. Not that it matters.

  “Oh my God, this place is cute,” Mina says, peering up the staircase at the front of the bakery.

  “Right?” Cassie says, taking the steps two at a time. Mina and I follow her up.

  “So, this is literally a cheesecake bakery,” Mina says, laughing. “How did I not know about this?”

  “I guess you should hang out here more or something,” Cassie says.

  “I guess you’re right.” She smiles. And Cassie threads their fingers together, just for a minute. Probably no one even notices but me.

  I look quickly away, eyes on the display cases. WHAT’S UP, CHEESECAKES? I’M JUST GOING TO STARE AT YOU FOREVER. Because when a tender moment happens between any two people, I turn into an eleven-year-old boy. It is my most consistent talent.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see Olivia show up.

  We order some cheesecakes and bring them to a table. “So, wait. Back to Reid,” Cassie says, leaning toward her. “We still need the info on him.”

  I could hug her.

  Not that I care. I’m just curious. But still.

  “Right,” Mina says. “Well, he’s definitely single. Oh God. How to explain Reid . . .” She tilts her head. “Like, he’s one of those Ren Faire guys. Season pass, full costume.”

  Olivia smiles. “Aww. I love Ren Faire guys.”

  “Yeah—I don’t
know. I’d say he’s the kind of guy you marry, but not the kind of guy you date. Or have sex with.” Mina wrinkles her nose.

  Which pisses me off. Are there really people who just aren’t the sex type? I mean, obviously there are asexual people, but that’s different.

  I guess I’m wondering this: can a person be fundamentally sexually repulsive? I mean, maybe Reid’s not cool or muscular enough for sex. And if I like him anyway, what does that say about me? Is it because I’m scared to like someone hotter?

  I’m not saying I like him. But if I did. Hypothetically.

  I mean, Abby dates geeks. But when you’re that pretty, you can date anyone, and people know you picked the geek on purpose. Like, you could have had the hot guy, but you didn’t want him. But when you’re a fat geek who likes another fat geek, everyone assumes you’re settling.

  I feel a little sick. I can’t explain it.

  “Anyway, Will was seriously flirting with you last night,” Mina says.

  “Um. Okay.”

  I feel my face grow warm. I don’t know. I can’t entirely process the idea that someone like Will was actually flirting with me.

  “It’s so perfect, too, because even if the boyfriend thing doesn’t work out, you could always hook up with him. He’s great about that. I promise, he wouldn’t even be weird about it the next day.”

  I just look at her. To be honest, I kind of wonder how she knows that.

  “Well, Molly would be weird about it,” Cassie points out. And under the table, she presses her foot against mine, side by side.

  “I would not.”

  “You would,” Olivia says.

  I mean, they’re right. I’d be super weird. I’d get quiet and self-conscious, and I’d probably wonder for the rest of my life what Will thought about my kissing abilities. Or lack thereof.

  I feel really jittery, all of a sudden, and I need to do something with my hands. I take out my phone, and I have two missed texts from Reid. I take a bite of chocolate cheesecake and tap into my messages.

  Okay, so my official assessment of the cookie dough is:

  Cat emoji with heart eyes. Thumbs-up emoji. Trophy emoji. Beefy muscle arm emoji. Blissful eyes-closed smiling emoji.