Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Paisley
Eight years ago. . .
The dorm room door slammed hard behind Liz, rattling my silhouette pictures of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy on the wall.
I glanced up from my open textbook (Theories of Reading, real fascinating stuff) and The Return of the King playing on my laptop just in time to watch my roommate dramatically starfish on the floor. “Bad date, Lizzie?”
“Bad date?” Liz huffed, her honey-brown hair splayed around her like a halo. “No. Bad dates are for when he doesn’t open your door or when he orders you shellfish by accident because he doesn’t know you’re allergic. This? This was a catastrophe!”
Because Liz lived for theatrics, I didn’t bother reminding her she wasn’t allergic to shellfish, but she had ordered shellfish for Juliet once, who was allergic.
“Do you know what he did?” Liz demanded, oblivious to my train of thought.
I paused my movie to give her my full attention. Because she was my friend, but also because her date stories were always entertaining. “Hmm?”
“He talked about his toe fungus! Over the entrée!” she wailed with a shudder.
I gagged. “Ew!” This might take the cake for the worst horror date yet.
“But the final straw? He brought me flowers.”
“Uh, isn’t that a nice gesture?”
She popped up to look at me, jade eyes wide. “Sure it is. If you don’t pilfer them from a cemetery! He gave me grave flowers. That. He. Stole. From. A. Corpse.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
Liz scoffed. “Because he bragged about it! Can you imagine? I was honestly so touched by the gesture, but when he mentioned where they came from? I can respect thriftiness, but that? I just couldn’t.
” She flopped back down with a sigh. “We can’t all get a Jared.
He would never bring you stolen foliage. ”
My lips twitched. “I suppose not.” There was no supposing about it. Jared would never. He was too thoughtful for that. My very own Gilbert Blythe. When it came to first love and first boyfriends, I’d more than lucked out.
Our meeting had been so cliché. The quiet girl dropped her books, and the popular guy picked them up. So simple, but it changed everything.
“What had you all starry eyed when I came in?” Liz made kissy noises. “Thinking about Jared again?”
I tilted my laptop screen towards her. “Faramir and éowyn actually.”
“Ahh, I prefer Aragorn and Arwen myself.” Liz sighed dreamily. “The man knows how to wear leather.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry your date was a flop.”
“Eh, story of my life.” She fiddled with her dress sleeve, a beautiful pink chiffon.
“Maybe if I kiss enough toads—figuratively of course—I’ll find my prince.
” Vulnerability about love wasn’t common for Liz.
She was the most confident out of all four of us and never lacked for guys asking her out.
She was picky about her dates because she had standards, but she wasn’t afraid of putting herself out there.
“Or maybe I’ll be alone forever and adopt a dozen cats. You never know.”
That did it. Liz was never mopey about her love life unless the date really shook her. So I did what any best friend worth her salt would do.
“Want to grab ice cream with me to make up for it?” Did I have a paper to finish? Yes. But friends were worth the interruption. I could stay up later and get it done.
Liz’s entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You’re on!”
And the next morning, I bought her pink tulips—courtesy of CVS. Because no one deserved corpse flowers on a date.