Definitely, Maybe in Love

My throat went dry, thinking of exactly who I wanted to kiss.

I tried very hard to stay in the present, to concentrate on Masen’s words for the next half hour, but even when we were done and I was back at the library, my mind kept hopelessly drifting, drifting, drifting…

“Hey.”

I jerked my gaze from my notebook to find Mel staring down at me.

“What are you doodling?” She walked around the table to take a better look. “Is that argyle?”

I stared at my paper. It was indeed a cluster of argyle diamonds. “No, it’s, uhh.” I quickly scribbled over the sketch. “Pizza.”

“Pizza?” She examined the doddle again. “Wow. You really suck at drawing.”

“Right?” I laughed, closing my notebook. “I guess I’m hungry.”

“Well, then, let’s chow.”

“I can’t,” I said, dragging over my laptop. “I’ve got a paper due and two tests to cram for. I’ll be here all night.”

Mel pulled at the back of my chair. “You have to eat, babe. Come on. We’ll hop over to your place and I’ll cook for you. How does that sound?”

She didn’t have to threaten bodily harm to convince me to get out for a while, to eat something solid before I pulled an all-night study session. She wasn’t the best chef in the world, but the thought of someone cooking for me did sound incredibly comforting.

After not much of a fight, I allowed her to lead me home.

…

“And it’s also a maturing experience,” I said. “I’m learning a lot about myself and the world around me.”

“Watch out for the car!” Mel yelled.

I froze in place, one foot hanging off the curb as a pickup made a tight turn around the corner. After it passed, Mel grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back. “Pay attention to where you’re walking,” she said. “You’re in La-La Land.”

“I’m not in La-La Land,” I defended. “I was just—”

“You were just talking about Henry Knightly.”

Was I? I thought I was talking about school.

“So?” I said defensively, zipping up my coat, suddenly regretting being dragged from the library.

“So, I haven’t seen you for two weeks.” She dug through her book bag, her hand resurfacing with a tube of pink lip gloss. “I want to hear about you.” She applied the shiny tint to her lips.

“I am telling you about me.”

“Oh?” she blinked and dropped the gloss in her bag. “Oh,” she repeated with an accompanying nod. “Okay. Continue. But without stepping into traffic, please. You were saying it’s a maturing experience to hang out with Henry.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying hard to remember where my earlier train of thought had been headed. “That’s how I’m looking at it,” I added, dipping one foot off the curb. Mel narrowed her eyes at my daredevilness.

“Last I heard, you were about to jump off the Golden Gate because he was the only person willing to help with your thesis.” She linked her arm through mine and pulled me to the middle of the sidewalk as we walked toward my house.

“That’s still true.”

“But you’re spending all this time with him.”

“It’s called research.”

Mel’s expression bent in confusion in the gathering twilight. “I thought you hated the guy.”

“I never said that.”

She thought for a moment, biting her lip. “Are you still fighting?”

“We disagree but we don’t fight.” I paused, considering if this was wholly truthful. “Not anymore. We kind of made an agreement about that. We’re more productive now.”

A blue BMW drove toward us. It slowed, and Julia waved from the passenger side, Dart behind the wheel. All shiny teeth and shiny hair, they were a commercial for Old Navy. He honked the horn; Mel and I waved back.

“Disagreeing with Henry is natural. We’re so different,” I continued, then laughed at just how understated that was. “You know me, and you know how Henry is.”

“Not really,” she said. “I don’t know him. Not as well as you do.”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her vocal inflection.

Mel stopped walking to dig through her bag again, swearing impatiently under her breath. “I know I have a Kit Kat in here somewhere.”

“Chocolate before dinner? How unlike you.”

“Better than a cigarette,” she grumbled. “I quit smoking last week. Ah-ha!” She pulled out a candy bar and held it up like the Olympic torch.

“You quit smoking? When exactly did you start?”

Mel tore open the candy bar wrapper with her teeth. “The week before that.”

I laughed. “Anything to get you off the dreaded cocoa bean.”

“It’s a vicious cycle,” she said, taking a big bite, eyes closed, sugar being absorbed into her blood stream, endorphins all abuzz. The candy bar was gone in approximately three bites. She wadded up the empty wrapper then grabbed her phone. “Tyler’s calling again.”

“Ah.” I smiled. “The elusive summer boyfriend in Washington. When will I get to meet him?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” She shot me a withering glance. “I’ve been inviting you up to my grandparents’ house for ten years. Just say the word and we’ll go.” She smiled down at her phone and texted something. “What I wouldn’t do for seven minutes in heaven with Tyler right now.”

“Classy, Mel.”

“Speaking of,” she said as we neared my house, “how does Alex fit into the steaming and beefy pot of testosterone stew you’ve got simmering in your Crock-Pot?” She eyed me up and down.

“I haven’t seen Alex in a few weeks,” I said. “Not since—”

“Thanksgiving. I know.” Mel’s words had an I-told-you-so behind them.

When I huffed, I could see my breath. “To answer your question, Melanie, Henry and I don’t discuss Alex Parks, okay?” I actually felt my chin sticking out, like I was appalled at having to explain myself.

We crossed the street, passing by a frat house. A group of guys were outside playing Frisbee wearing only shorts. It was dark and freezing. Mel stopped to gawk.

“I don’t particularly care about whatever happened between Henry and Alex,” I added, “and I’m sure Henry doesn’t either.” I broke off, worried that I might have said too much. As far as I knew, Mel had no knowledge of their turbulent history, and it wasn’t my place to share.

“Very diplomatic,” Mel said. “You should run for office.”

We stopped in front of my house. No lights were on. Across the street, the black Viper was in the driveway, parked crooked like always.

“So, if you’re not allowed to argue,” she said, “that means there’s no political discussions between you two, no money talk, no women’s lib, no Alex. What do you guys do in that tiny study room? There’s not even space enough to… Ohhh.” She grinned and hooked her arm through mine. “Does he brush his teeth first? And use mouthwash? He looks like he has a very clean mouth.” She moaned and stared off into space. “Mmm, I bet it’s like kissing a tunnel of minty freshness, right?”

“What?” I exclaimed. “I haven’t been kissing Henry Knightly!”

The front door across the street slammed. Mel and I jumped about a mile. I whirled around to see Henry standing under the porch light, wearing a black leather jacket. No doubt, there was some form of argyle attached to his body.

“It’s a little early for you to be home, isn’t it, Spring?” he called out, pointing at his watch. I felt Mel tighten her grip on my arm. “Don’t tell me all campus libraries burned to the ground.”

Without bothering to look at her, I knew Mel’s curious eyes were glued on me, studying my every move. I could practically hear her panting as she waited for my answer. Henry was halfway across his lawn now.