The Romantics

by Leah Konen

  (I couldn’t have agreed more. Which is why I had planned to save Gael’s real-deal romance for months later, when he was in a better place, at least somewhat. But just like you humans, I don’t always get what I want. Far from it.)

  Gael was thinking about how soon would be too soon to look Cara up on Facebook, send her a message, when he saw, of all people, Sammy walking down his driveway.

  “Oh,” she said, startled. She stopped short, right in front of the tree that had been there forever, the one that Mason had fallen out of once, but in his Mason luck, hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch. “Hey. I was just leaving. I rode back from the restaurant with your mom.”

  “Err, sorry for causing a scene,” Gael offered.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It was just a shitty situation.”

  Apology taken care of, Gael went right back to daydreaming about Cara. Her cool T-shirt, and her hot sauce thievery, and that way she had of smiling so big . . .

  Gael didn’t notice the way Sammy tugged at the hem of her dress. He was replaying the kiss in his head, marveling at how something had, almost miraculously, actually gone well for him.

  God, was he insane to even think about liking someone so soon? (Yes.)

  And if he was insane, did it even matter? (Yes, again.)

  Gael felt better than he had since before Anika broke the news via public makeout sesh. His emptiness had turned to lightness, like if he didn’t focus on the here and now, he’d float away.

  He barely even heard Sammy when she said, “You know, I haven’t been completely honest with you . . .”

  Sammy stood in front of him with a serious look in her eyes, waiting for him to say the words that would send the truth tumbling out, a truth she’d wanted to divulge for a while but hadn’t quite found the right opportunity. (It’s easy, Gael. Just listen to the girl. Ask her what she means.)

  But (of course) that’s not what Gael did.

  “Sorry, what?” he asked.

  Sammy shook her head quickly. She took two steps back, growing the space between them.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I’ll see you on Monday.” She scuttled down the driveway as quickly as her legs could take her, which was very quickly, Sammy being five foot nine, the same height as Gael.

  Gael, for his part, headed into his house, not bothering to give Sammy Sutton so much as a second thought.

  how to crush a crush (aka phase one)

  Despite a few clever attempts at tipping the scales in my favor (not limited to, but including, both the Internet and phone service temporarily going down at his dad’s place), by Sunday, Gael had found Cara on Facebook, and asked her if she wanted to accompany him to REI. He’d decided a nondate was the easiest place to start.

  Perhaps he would have been able to wait a bit longer if he hadn’t been bored out of his mind at his dad’s place that weekend. The apartment was a not-so-cheerful three-bedroom that didn’t even have a Blu-ray player. I may have accidentally given Gael’s dad HBO access, but not even that could hold Gael off for long—between back-to-back episodes of Game of Thrones and Mason’s frequent phone calls, none of which he answered, Gael was perpetually reminded that betrayal was not reserved to lands filled with dragons and dwarves.

  Not to mention his dad was driving him nuts. Gael had apologized to both his mom and dad independently (another fun thing about split households, you had to say everything twice!) and his dad had not only forgiven him, but he seemed intent on finding a way for them to bond. He made attempt after attempt at family fun times (including cooking brunch together, going to the farmers’ market, and even indulging in a post-dinner family walk), which only served to make Gael more suspicious that his dad truly did have a reason to feel guilty.

  Long story short—Gael had to get out of the house. He told Cara he needed something frivolous like wool socks, and he asked if she wanted to offer her expert hiking opinion. She didn’t hesitate to say yes.

  Ladies and gentleman, it was time to put Phase One of Mission: Directing Gael Away from the Wrong Girl into action. I have a whole treasure trove of proven ways to nip romance in the bud, and with Gael, I was prepared to use any and all within my reach.

  Without further ado, behold my handiwork:

  First Defense: Annoyance

  “Hey!” Cara said eagerly, as she hopped into Gael’s car. He’d been idling in front of her dorm for ten minutes past their agreed-upon pick-up time, but she didn’t apologize. She buckled her seat belt as Gael pulled away from UNC’s South Campus and back toward Highway 54.

  “I’m glad you were down to come,” Gael said, opting to forgive her lateness. “I remembered you saying you needed hiking boots.”

  Cara smiled, pulled her long hair into a ponytail, and leaned back in her seat. “Indeed, I do.”

  She put her feet up on the dash, something Gael always hated, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned up the volume as his new favorite song came on.

  After a few seconds, Cara switched to a country station without even asking.

  But she did ask if they could stop at Starbucks because she really wanted a pumpkin spice latte.

  (Look, I wasn’t using mind control, I promise. Free will, yada yada yada. But Cara had censored herself in past relationships, and it was totally fair of me to remind her of that fact. To urge her, ever so slightly, to not hold back, to listen to the music she wanted, embrace her love of Starbucks, literally kick her feet up. Of course, I also happened to know that these very behaviors would annoy Gael to no end.)

  Second Defense: Incompatibility

  The parking lot in front of REI was for some reason blocked off so Gael and Cara had to park by the movie theater (it’s amazing what people will believe when you put up a few official-looking cones). Once out of the car, Gael took in Cara’s full outfit. Birkenstocks, ripped jeans, and a Willie Nelson T-shirt. Anika wouldn’t have been caught dead looking that laid-back and casual. And yet, he thought, Cara looked great.

  “Ready to spend way more money than we should on outdoor gear?” Cara asked eagerly. “And use it for a year and then take advantage of the store’s amazing return policy?” She winked and tightened her ponytail. Gael laughed.

  As they walked through the parking lot, the autumn sun cast a hard-to-miss glint across the COMING SOON poster. Gael could hardly contain his excitement. “You stoked for the new Wes Anderson movie?”

  Cara shrugged.

  “What?” he asked. “You think he’s overhyped?”

  She hopped from the curb to the road and back up again, then grabbed onto the pole of a NO PARKING sign and used her hand to swing around it. In the distance, a fountain trickled happily. “I don’t know,” Cara said. “To tell you the truth, I don’t have much of an opinion. I’m not really that into movies. Except for James Cameron ones. He’s pretty much the best director ever.”

  Third Defense: Jealousy

  In REI, Gael and Cara headed past hydration packs and kayaks to the women’s shoe area, where Cara grabbed a few pairs of boots to try on. In minutes, a brawny guy who looked like a cross between Mason and Bradley Cooper rushed to help them.

  The guy brought out a stack of boxes, and Cara sat down. She slid her feet into the first pair.

  “Too tight?” the dude asked as he obnoxiously pinched her toes with his too-big hands.

  She shook her head. “Just right,” she said with a smirk. Was she flirting with him? Gael wondered.

  Cara hopped up, did a couple of paces around the room. She sat back down. “Let me try on the next pair.”

  The two of them went back and forth like that, and Gael couldn’t help but notice that every time Cara walked around, the guy’s eyes followed her—and he had a feeling it wasn’t because he was hoping she’d buy a co-op membership.

  Finally, Cara asked to try on the first pair again. After biting her lip and doing yet another lap, she sat down. “I’ll take ’em,” she said matter-of-factly.

  The Not-so-Fortunate Results

 
Cara turned to Gael and gave him a toothy smile. She wiggled her feet back and forth, and she looked so carefree and enchanting that he found it hard to be turned off by her love of Titanic or her penchant for Starbucks specialty drinks.

  “Thanks for putting up with me,” she said.

  “Anytime,” Gael said.

  But what he thought was—I’d put up with a lot more to spend time with you.

  Ugh. It was time to step it up with Phase Two.

  everyone’s an advice columnist these days

  The next day, during lunch at school, Gael headed to his usual spot in the outdoor courtyard. It was already halfway through October, the leaves had fallen, and the temperatures had cooled. No one besides him was still sitting outside, but navigating lunch-table dynamics didn’t exactly appeal to Gael.

  I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of the school cafeteria. Whether from your own experience or from watching movies, you should be familiar with the usual social divisions, and Gael’s high school was no exception. Before The Ultimate Betrayal (TUB), Gael had always sat with his own little cohort of not-so-nerdy band nerds—Anika, Jenna, Danny, Mason, and occasionally one or two of the girls from Jenna’s AP biology class.

  Since TUB, however, Gael had been eating outside alone.

  So Gael was quite shocked when, as he sat down on the concrete, leaned against the bricks, and pulled out his Monday usual, a sad ham-and-cheese sandwich his mom had haphazardly thrown together this morning (lunch had been so much better when his dad packed it), he saw Danny and Jenna walking toward him.

  “Dude,” Danny said, hair neatly combed and gelled, one hand on the strap of his backpack. “Enough of this lunch outside. Come in and sit with us.”

  Gael took a bite of his sandwich and shook his head.

  “Come on,” Jenna said. Her own hair was the opposite of Danny’s, auburn and wild and frizzy, like she’d just stuck her finger in an electrical socket. They made an odd but cute couple. She looked over to Danny, and he nodded at her. “We miss you,” she said. “And it’s cold as balls out here.”

  Danny definitely put her up to that, Gael thought. But still, it was nice.

  Gael swallowed and took a sip from his Nalgene bottle. “I have zero desire to sit with Anika and Mason,” he said.

  “They aren’t sitting with us anymore,” Jenna said. He detected a hint of annoyance in her voice. She crossed her arms and smiled forcefully.

  Danny’s smile was more genuine. “We didn’t think it was quite fair that they did the wrong thing and you got the shit end of the stick.”

  Jenna laughed. A few weeks ago at lunch, she’d said “shit end of the stick” accidentally, and it had stuck.

  Gael laughed, too. It was pretty funny, no matter how many times you said it.

  And he had gotten the shit end of the stick. They were right. Why was he letting Mason and Anika’s selfishness ruin his other friendships, too?

  Without saying anything, Gael grabbed his sandwich and backpack and followed them inside to their usual table. As promised, Anika and Mason were on the opposite end of the cafeteria, eating with two girls from Anika’s Bhangra dance group and laughing. He tried to ignore them.

  Danny and Jenna spent the next thirty minutes flirtatiously arguing about which season of Doctor Who was the best and discussing whether they really needed to do the biology reading or if they should try and Google the answers to the worksheet.

  Gael was mostly silent, until Danny, as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head, stopped talking about bio and looked at him with excitement in his eyes.

  “Maybe you need to hook up with somebody else. Especially if she’s hotter than Anika.”

  Jenna smacked him on his ultra-skinny arm. “Could you be any more chauvinistic? He needs some space and to not pull someone else into this drama.” She looked at him all serious, and Gael swore even her freckles looked like they weren’t messing around. “Like they say on Reddit, lawyer up, delete Facebook, hit the gym. Except for the lawyer part, obviously. Oh, and stop publicly slut-shaming Anika in restaurants.”

  Eeesh, Gael thought, brutal. Was that what he really had done?

  He tried to think of a respectful way to defend himself, but Danny shrugged and moved on: “It might be a lot easier to get over Anika if he got under someone else, all I’m saying.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “You just heard that on a bad TV show and wanted a chance to say it.”

  “Maybe,” Danny said, and then he kissed her sloppily.

  Between their PDA and conflicting advice, Gael only felt worse. In fact, none of the advice Gael received these days seemed to help:

  Last night, his dad had handed him one of the awkward self-help books he had read when he and his mom split up, and then he asked for about the millionth time since the separation if Gael was sure he didn’t want to try therapy.

  That morning, his mom had begged him to accompany her to a meditation-focused yoga class on Wednesday.

  At breakfast, Piper had read him his love horoscope, which suggested he be open to “those who offer deep conversation and intellectual intrigue.” (Okay, I was the one who dug up that gem.)

  And in chemistry before lunch, Mason had reminded him that now was the time that Gael needed a friend the most. Mason didn’t seem to appreciate the irony of the situation.

  The problem with the advice he was getting was the problem with almost all advice having to do with me. People suggest what they themselves would want or need. But the act of loving is such a unique experience, it’s damn near impossible for anyone but me to know exactly what someone needs at any given time—and even I get it wrong sometimes.

  Danny pulled away from Jenna’s kiss and fixed his eyes on Gael.

  “Come on,” he said. “There’s got to be some girl you at least think is cute.”

  Gael certainly wasn’t ready to jinx anything by telling them about Cara. One impulsive kiss, plus a trip to REI, did not a relationship make.

  So he shook his head and hoped neither Danny nor Jenna could see the color rising to his cheeks.

  welcome to the friend zone: temporarily, at least

  On Tuesday, Gael asked Cara if she wanted to test out her recent purchase on the Bolin Creek hiking path near his house.

  He was surprised by how quickly she said yes.

  (Knowing Cara, I wasn’t.)

  “How are the new shoes?” Gael asked as they stomped along the dirt path, tall trees rising around them.

  “Great,” Cara said forcefully, though the way she hobbled along made it look like they were anything but.

  “Are you sure?” Gael asked. “I can drive us back to your dorm and we could get different shoes. Or we could take a break. Or we could do something totally different if you don’t want to hike.”

  He took a deep breath, reminding himself not to sound so eager. All Gael wanted was an escape from his old life, and this new girl who knew exactly zero of his friends seemed like just the person to give it to him. So long as her feet didn’t start bleeding. “Really, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” she said, as leaves scattered across the path. “They just need to be broken in. Just like the guy at the store said.”

  Gael forced out visions of that universally good-looking REI dude. Just because Anika put traditional good looks over everything else didn’t mean that all girls did.

  As the wind whistled through the trees and the creek trilled in the distance and the sunlight made funny shadows on Cara’s skin, Gael couldn’t help but think about their kiss. It had been wonderful. Unexpected. It had reminded him of his first kiss with Anika. Not in an oh-please-shoot-me-now-I-will-never-forget-about-Anika kind of way. More in a maybe-life-does-go-on sort of way.

  And she’d kissed back, if only for the tiniest of seconds. He knew that she had.

  He forced himself to stop picking the skin on the side of his thumb. REI guy types certainly didn’t do that when they were nervous. In fact, the
Masons and REI guys of the world didn’t ever seem to get nervous. Bastards.

  Gael pointed to a clearing. “If you take that path, it heads to a bench near the creek. We could sit down for a minute and take a break,” he said.

  “Sweet,” Cara said. She skipped up ahead of him, obviously eager to rest her feet.

  As he caught up to her, the sound of the rushing creek intensified, matched only by the sound of rushing, pumping blood in his ears. Cara might not be perfect, Gael thought, but who was? So what if she had bad taste in movies and music? So what if she was perpetually late (he’d waited only eight minutes outside her dorm this time)? So what if she wasn’t a coffee snob like he was? So what if she was a tad pushy at times . . .

  Cara sat down on the rickety bench and immediately loosened the laces on her shoes. Gael noticed a tiny metal plaque he’d never seen before:

  FOR MARY, WHO MADE ME HAPPY EVERY DAY.

  YOU WILL ALWAYS BE IN MY HEART.

  Gael almost wanted to keep walking and find a slightly less sentimental bench, but it was too late. Cara grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to her.

  Then again, he thought, maybe the bench was a sign.

  (No, Gael. It was not a sign.)

  Once they were properly seated on the bench of eternal love, Gael opened his backpack and pulled the water bottles out. He handed one to Cara and then drank his down in a few gulps.

  “Whoa, there, killer,” she said.

  Gael laughed nervously. “I guess I was a little thirsty.”

  He put the cap back on and stuffed the bottle into his backpack. Then he turned to Cara.

  Her face was flushed, her forehead shiny, her eyes glistening, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail that never would have passed Anika’s standards. Her clothes wouldn’t, either: She wore bicycle shorts and a long-sleeve T-shirt from Bandido’s, a crappy Mexican restaurant and Franklin Street institution. The one time he and Anika had gone hiking together, she’d worn hot pink spandex pants, a matching top, and a polka-dot sports bra.