Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“No onions, no mustard, not too much mayo, and not too much ketchup,” I said to our waitress. “But could you mix the ketchup and mayo up? Oh! And do you have barbeque sauce?” She had a dead look in her eye that turned vicious as I started to order. “And a side of fries, unless they’re crinkle fries, then I’ll just do without them. But if you have waffle fries, I’ll have two servings.” She angrily punched my order into her tablet, glaring at me.
Aiden had cleared his throat and leaned forward. “I’ll just have the number three.”
“You know,” he said once our food arrived. “I’d wondered why the burrito at Juanita’s food truck had such a unique selection of toppings in it. Now I get it.”
“Listen,” I said between bites. “It’s not bad to be picky.”
He nodded at my plate. “Are you going to eat the pickle?”
“Ick, no it’s all yours.” I stabbed it with the toothpick from my burger and placed it on his plate.
“You don’t like pickles?” He frowned.
“It’s the juice.” I shuddered. “Kids at my middle school used to drink it, and it grossed me out.”
He laughed, biting off half the pickle.
“What about you?” I asked. “Any food you despise?”
He titled his head, his eyes turned to the ceiling in thought. “I don’t like beans. Of any sort.”
“Me either!” I beamed at him and reached across the linoleum black and white table and raised my hand for a high five. Aiden rolled his eyes before slapping my hand back, the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “It’s the texture.”
“I watched this movie as a kid,” he began. “ Dennis the Menace ? He was kidnapped and he had dinner with the guys who kidnapped him, but all they had to eat were beans. They stuffed their faces with it, and that scene always made me sick.”
I nodded in understanding. “My dad knew I didn’t like beans, so when he would get mad at me, he’d make beans for dinner.” The restaurant was nearly empty, our voices echoing in the small building. “I used to hide them under my rice, and he always let me get away with it.”
Aiden finished off the rest of his pickle and grinned. It was so rare for Aiden to grin. Sure, he smiled and would laugh sometimes, but to watch his whole face morph because of a grin that I’d caused made me glow. “Rosie’s dark side finally comes out.”
“For that, I’m stealing a fry.”
And that started us eating off of each other’s plates. Sometimes when we reached across the table, our hands brushed, and I’d ignore the shock it sent through me. A while later, I hadn’t touched my own fries, but I had eaten most of Aiden’s, and he’d eaten mine.
“Have you ever been in love?” I asked.
Aiden paused with his arm halfway across the table. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “Because you hate romance.”
He popped my fry in his mouth. “I don’t hate romance. I hate romance novels .”
I rolled my eyes. “I feel like you can’t say that when you haven’t read one.”
“I told you I’ve read Pride and Prejudice ,” he said defensively.
“That’s not what we both mean, and you know it.”
“I’ve been in love before,” he said carefully. “Sort of. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m sure you have,” he said, ignoring the question. “Tell me about your first love. I bet you had some sweeping romance with fate and sparks and all the things you read about.”
“Honestly? I don’t think I’ve been in love.” I swirled the straw in my water around, avoiding his gaze. “I thought I was in love, but in retrospect I wasn’t. Because I read romance novels and the love in those stories is just so different from what I’ve experienced. With my ex-boyfriend it was … routine and habitual, a cycle we couldn’t break. When I am in love, I don’t want to have to wonder if it’s love, you know? I want to know with certainty that there is nothing else I would rather feel.”
He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could say anything. “And I know romance novels can be unrealistic, but there are Happy Ever Afters. And, I don’t know … sure, love can be messy, and it can hurt, but I think it’s supposed to heal, too.”
“I know what you mean,” he said quietly. “Every time I’ve been in love, or at least thought I was, I thought I had to give up a part of myself. I couldn’t be completely me.”
I snatched one of his fries and gestured for him to take one of mine. I held it up. “To easy, true love.”
“To easy, true love,” he agreed, and we clinked.
Aiden and I had way more in common than I ever thought. We both watched Big Brother , and dipped our French fries in our milkshakes. Aiden was apparently super into making playlists, too.
“I used to spend hours debating the transition from one song to the next, burning CDs in my bedroom,” he admitted.
“Did you ever make one for a girl?” I asked, cheekily.
He rolled his eyes. “No. I would make them based on a book I’d just read. I’d try to emulate the plot or the vibes of it. I would—”
My phone started buzzing. I cursed and silenced it. But it buzzed again. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered. I shut it off again and shoved it under my leg.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No,” I shook my head. “My family’s just—” My phone buzzed again, the chair amplifying the sound.
“Take it,” he urged. “I don’t mind, really.”
I hastily swiped the green. “What?” I asked sharply.
“Is that any way to greet your baby sister?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hi, Maria. How are you?”
“I’m good,” she said brightly. I paused, waiting for her to continue.
“Is that it? You’re not calling about some urgent matter?”
“I can’t call to say hi to my big sister?”
“You can call, and when I don’t answer, you can send a text.”
“Look at you. Goes to New York for one year and becomes too busy to care about us southern folk,” she tsked. “So are you coming home for Christmas or not?”
“I already told Mom I don’t know,” I whispered, angling my body away from Aiden so he couldn’t hear. Maria and I both spoke broken Spanish, and we couldn’t really speak it to each other. We needed someone like my mom or our tías to guide us in conversation or else we’d be completely lost. I wished we were fluent as I sat here trying to have this conversation in front of Aiden. “I’m just trying to figure out the plane ticket and work stuff,” I lied.
I knew it wasn’t happening. I’d had an alert for flights set up since Halloween and nothing had been in my price range. Even if I took on more shifts at the Hideout, I still wouldn’t have enough for a roundtrip flight and rent next month. I knew I needed to tell them soon, but I hadn’t found the courage yet.
“I really need you here, Rosie.” I could hear the panic in her voice and frowned. Maria was the calm one. The one who did yoga in the morning and had an elaborate skin care routine she claimed was “meditative.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked softly.
“I just miss you. A lot.”
“I miss you, too. I’m sorry I don’t know yet. I’m going to try to pick up a few shifts—”
“Peter and I can help pay for your ticket.” Peter was Maria’s husband. They were high school sweethearts and got married just before I left for New York.
“No way. I know you two are saving up to get the house on Lott Street. Don’t worry about me. I’ll let y’all know soon, okay?”
“Fine. Fine. Love you,” she said as I hung up.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Aiden.
“Don’t worry about it. Is everything okay?” I hesitated, reaching for another of the last of his fries. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said kindly. “But we’re past using personal information against each other, okay?”
Loose strands fell out from my ponytail at the side of my face, and I pushed them behind my ear.
“I still haven’t told my family I can’t come home for the holidays,” I said, my voice small. “I’ve been trying so hard for the past few weeks. Balancing school and my social life and working myself dead, and I really thought I would make it. But the plane tickets are crazy expensive now that Christmas is two weeks out, and I won’t have anyone to cover my shifts.” My voice was wobbling. I shrugged and said, “It just sucks.”
“I’m sorry, Rosie,” he said affectionately. He reached over to grab my hand, his fingers curling around the back of mine.
“It’s not world ending.” I wiped away a stray tear with the hand Aiden wasn’t holding. “I’ll survive it. I just spent last Christmas by myself, and I hoped this year would be different. New York during this time is so fun, but only if you have someone to spend it with, you know?”
“Yeah,” he said sympathetically, his thumb sweeping over the back of my hand. Such a small touch that sent shivers down my spine.
“It’s okay, though. I’m applying for the Sam Frost Fellowship, have you heard of it?”
He paused. “Yeah,” he said carefully. “I have.”
“I’m hoping that if I get it, it’ll solve some of my money problems since tuition wouldn’t be as big of a problem. Then I’ll be able to go home more often. That kind of money is life changing.”
He hummed, nodding. “I get what you mean.”
“It’s alright, though. I’m just being dramatic.”
He tilted his head. “I could do Christmas with you.”
I took in a sharp breath. Aiden’s eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Oh, Aiden,” I said carefully. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he insisted.
“No, really, it’s okay.”
“Do you not want me to?” he asked tentatively, and my heart broke into a million little pieces. I didn’t know much about Aiden. I had pieced together his father’s feelings for him quite easily, and it was obvious to see that he had spent his life neglected and unwanted by his dad. But he wouldn’t feel that way from me.
“No!” I rushed. “I’d love it if you did, but really, I couldn’t make you—”
“I want to,” he said forcefully. “Seriously. A dinner isn’t enough to repay you for what you did. My dad—” He shook his head. “You saved me.” He blew out a breath. “I spend Christmas by myself anyway. You’d really be doing me a favor.”
“I like to do touristy things,” I warned. Part of me was trying to deter him, to push him away just so I could see if he really wanted to step closer.
He nodded, his smile reaching his eyes. “I figured.”
“I want to go to Central Park and probably Macy’s—”
“Rosie.” He squeezed my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine. “You’re not going to talk me out of it. I want to.”
I bit my lip, smiling. “Okay. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate as a thank you. Obviously.”
“Really, don’t worry about it. I’m excited.”
My smile kept growing wider. “Me too. I really can’t thank you enough. At least when I tell my family I’m not going to be alone, they won’t be as worried. And they won’t think I’m sulking about Simon—”
“Simon?” he asked. “Is that the boyfriend?”
Something about the way Aiden was looking at me, his face so open, made me want to spill my guts. My gaze slid away from his. “Ex-boyfriend. We dated back home for … well, years . We broke up last fall.” He raised his eyebrow, encouraging me to continue. I sighed and ran my hand down my face. “I was a little doe-eyed as a kid.”
“You? No way.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
I tossed my napkin at him. “Shut up. Before we started dating our sophomore year of high school, I had this huge crush on him. But I think I liked a person I created in my head, not Simon himself. And then when we started dating, I convinced myself that he was that person, and I wasn’t seeing it.”
“So what happened?”
I shook my head. “It took me way too long for me to realize how much of a jerk he was. I just … wanted to be loved so badly that I thought being hurt was part of the deal. He convinced me to stay in town for college, told me romance novels made my standards too high … It wasn’t until I moved here that I woke up from this decade long nap.” I hesitated. I hadn’t talked about this in so long. I had to blink back the tears because even though I was over Simon, I wasn’t over what he’d done to me and how he made me feel. “He told me I was destined to become an old lonely woman, surrounded by books.”
“ What? ” Aiden said sharply, pulling his shoulders back. His voice dropped to a deadly level.
I shrugged as if it meant nothing. As if I hadn’t wasted a near decade of my life hoping Simon would be who I wanted him to be.
“Everything sort of fell into place after we broke up. Why I couldn’t write anything romantic, why I was so unhappy, why I felt like there was something missing in my life.”
“Jesus Christ.” His eyes were narrowed, and his jaw was clenched. He was breathing slowly and barely moving his jaw.
“I think maybe he was right,” I said quietly. “I probably do need to lower my expectations.”
Aiden immediately shook his head. “No, Rosie. You don’t have to lower your expectations. You deserve more than your highest one. Any guy you’re with should be falling over himself to make you happy.”
I tried not read into his words, but I could feel my mind shifting. I’d once thought that Aiden was the antithetical romance hero. But maybe I was the antithetical heroine. I was argumentative and stubborn, but Aiden didn’t seem to mind anymore.
“Weak guys like that are just intimidated by strong women,” Aiden continued, each word a sharp cut into the air. “You shouldn’t have to beg someone for the bare minimum. He got too comfortable being with someone as wonderful as you and took you for granted.” He hung his head. “Rosie, I’m sorry. I never would’ve said that stuff about romance novels—”
“You didn’t know,” I said quietly. “I mean, it sucks that you did say it. But you haven’t since we started being friends. And besides, I make fun of literary fiction all the time.”
His face screwed up. “That’s different.”
“It’s not.”
“I didn’t know other people were making fun of you for romance. God, you must’ve thought I was exactly like that asshole this whole time.”
I frowned. “We were mean to each other. But we’re done with that now. I like hanging out with you too much.”
Aiden smiled, and my breath caught in my chest. “I like hanging out with you, too.”
I was the worst version of myself when I had a crush on someone. I couldn’t control my words or actions, both of which ended up coming off too strong and too cringey. It was like my mind became its own person with one goal in mind.
So, really, I couldn’t be blamed when I couldn’t stop talking about him.
“Aiden really liked that line, though,” I said to Ida as I sat in her office. I had rewritten a recent chapter and wanted to get Ida’s opinion on it.
“Okay, keep it then if you both like it,” she murmured, continuing to read on her screen. “You know, maybe Hunter’s best friend could also be into Maxine? Create some tension there.”
I frowned. “There’s no way Aiden would be open to introducing a love triangle. He’s already hesitant about the main romance as it is.”
Ida pushed her laptop screen down and glared at me. “Stop talking about Aiden. This is your book, too.”
“I know that,” I said defensively, crossing my arms across my chest.
“You’ve used his name in every single sentence since you walked in here.”
“Not true.” Ida gave me a deadpan, until I relented and said, “It’s your fault! You wanted the two of us to be friends!”
“Because I thought it would bring peace to my daily life but turns out you’re just as bad as friends.” She paused, studying me. “Is there something going on between you two?”
“No!” I nearly shouted. I cleared my throat and regrouped. “No. Nothing. We’re just … friends. We’ve been getting to know each other and spending a little bit more time together.”
“Uh-huh.” Ida bit back a smile, pushing her screen up.
“It’s true,” I insisted.
“I’m sure.”
I rolled my eyes, settling back in my seat. “Are you done antagonizing me or can we go over the chapter?”
“I think it’s looking good. Are you two ready to submit your pages for the midterm?”
“Nearly. The last chapter Aiden wrote kinda of screwed up my plan, so I need to fix that, but we’re close to done with our first half.”
“Perfect. And the fellowship piece? It’s due early January,” she reminded me.
“It’s going well,” I said excitedly. “I keep rereading it, and I think I’m almost ready to submit it, but something still feels a little off about it to me.”
“Well, you already know I think it’s great. But maybe a different set of eyes would serve you well?”
There was one obvious person to be that second set of eyes. Aiden knew my voice better than anyone by now, and I was sure his feedback would help me take the piece to the next level. I just had to work up the courage to ask.
“I missed you,” Maxine said, walking further into the room. My heart was pounding, a loud rush in my ears, but I hung onto her every word like she hung the moon.
“You missed me?”
“Don’t act so surprised. We’re friends now. Honestly, you might be my best friend.”
A Maxine-shaped space had been undeniably carved into my soul. Around her, I couldn’t ever stop the smiles that spread across my face—and given the way her eyes lit up every time my lips quirked, I didn’t want to.
I hadn’t really thought about Maxine as my best friend before, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could be myself around someone else. She might’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had.
“You might just be mine, too, Max.” I shot her a look. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
— Excerpt from Untitled by Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington