Gina had tons of friends of her own. Some threw themselves at Nick. A few looked at him like they expected him to grow horns. A small group seemed to actually like him (those were his favorites).
Nick was good at lying to everyone, except himself—he was perfectly aware, even back then, that he was in love with Gina. And how could he not be? Gina Pearl Worth was the most amazing woman in the world. She was kind to everyone, especially to animals and those less fortunate than her. She was the hardest working person he ever met—how she found the time to study, work two jobs, run track, and volunteer at a local shelter was beyond comprehension—and the least judgmental one. She was slowly beginning to form a political view of her own but remained tolerant of divergent opinions, carefully considering the rationale behind every single argument presented to her. Nick had always found her pretty, but now he found her gorgeous. He finally understood what all those clichés about inner beauty really meant. In fact, her only flaw was how private she was.
While Nick poured his heart out to Gina, she didn’t share any personal stories of her own. Nick didn’t want to press her. His trust in her had come naturally—he wanted the same to be true for her of him. But he was curious. All he knew about her family was that her brother liked Pearl Jam. She never referenced her own parents, which had made him craft far-fetched stories in his mind, including ones about her being a product of the foster system or perhaps an orphan. She was an optimistic, upbeat person, but she also seemed to be walking around without a piece of herself, almost as if an invisible limb had been cut off and she still felt its absence in every step she took. Nick was ravenously curious to know more about her.
With Christmas break around the corner, he asked about her plans for the holidays, hoping to glean information about her parents or her hometown.
“I’m actually working a double shift on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day,” she said with a smile. “It pays time and a half.”
“What about… your family?” Nick’s heart began to thump inside his chest the minute he asked the question.
She was silent for a moment. “They’re in Salt Lake City,” she finally said.
“In Utah?”
“That’s the one.”
“You’re not going to visit them?”
Gina looked down. “My parents they don’t… they don’t talk to me.” He watched as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m a disappointment to them.”
Nick was stunned into silence. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she told him she came from a coven of witches. Gina was a beautiful and accomplished young woman—what sort of parents would be disappointed by her?
“It’s OK to ask me why,” she said. “I trust you.”
He felt his heart dance inside his chest. He listened as she told him about her family: being brought up in the LDS faith, losing her brother, being rejected by her parents. It was not a feel-good story. In fact, it was downright tragic.
“My parents never forgave me choosing NYU. They saw it as an act of betrayal because it’s where Alan came when he left our home. I just wanted to live where he had lived, to feel close to him somehow. I tried to explain this to them, but they wouldn’t hear of it. They said they had learned their lesson with Alan. They gave me two choices: I could stay in Salt Lake City and live the life they had planned for me or I could leave and never come back.”
“Have you tried calling them?” Nick asked. “Maybe they changed their minds and are too proud to call you?”
“Once,” she whispered. “I called my house and my dad picked up and said, ‘I don’t know who you are. Both my son and my daughter are dead.’ And then he hung up.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nick said. He felt his soul hurting for her.
“There are worse things in the world. Someday I’m going to have a family of my own and it’ll all be different.” That had been the first time Nick had longed for children. Children with Gina.
They had been friends for almost three months—and they’d grown as close as Nick thought two people could. He would bring her snacks at work so they could spend her ten-minute break together. When he got the flu, she spoon-fed him soup and checked his temperature. They had gone to the movies together at least a dozen times, and they had shared more meals than he could count. Nick didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved Gina. And yet he did.
The strange part: they’d never kissed. Nick had never even tried. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he wanted to respect her just-friends caveat.
But in that moment the yearning was too strong.
He had to kiss her. And so he did.
Her rejection of him had been instant, unthinking. As though the idea of being with him in a romantic sense was intolerable. Nick felt his heart break a little, but mostly he felt scared that he had potentially ruined the best relationship he had ever had.
“I care for you, Nick,” she said. “Just not like that.”
“Why not?” he asked, fully aware that he sounded like a child begging for something that had been deemed off limits.
“Because we’re friends and I like that.” Her tone was unconvincing—he felt a flutter of hope.
“We’d still be friends,” Nick said, cupping her hand. “We’d share an even deeper connection.” He moved towards her, feeling more like himself, like the man who had effortlessly seduced so many women. Of course, Gina would never be just another seduction. She would be his first real girlfriend, someone he could love, maybe even marry
