Unlike me.
“Oh my God. How are you still so gorgeous after everything you’ve been through,” she asked P.M. while somehow deftly avoiding getting her perfectly made-up face licked by the dog she was complimenting.
Actually, no—that was a lie. There wasn’t any evidence that she was even wearing makeup. Her flawless skin really did glow, and her hazel eyes were really that anime large and wide, no foundation, contour, or mascara required.
She was basically a fairy-tale princess come to life—with mermaid-level hair to match.
But why would this ideal woman be here on a random February weekend?
One glance at Artyom answered that question. He watched her with a soft, fond look as she gushed over P.M.
My heart stuttered with a new realization. So, Artyom did have a girlfriend. Just not one who went to the University of Gemidgee.
One who was my exact opposite in every way: light where I was dark, with wavy mermaid hair compared to the dreads I’d settled on after giving up on keeping up with hair extensions my sophomore year.
My stomach cramped with a weird emotion as I watched Artyom watch her. Seriously, could she be any more perfect?
I would soon regret asking myself that question.
“Oh my gosh, I’m being so rude. I should introduce myself to you, too. Hi, I’m Ruthie!” The modern-day princess stood up to reveal one more opposite quality from me.
She was tall—at least 5’10”—compared to my slight, stooped-over 5’4”. And the way her leggings stretched over her toned legs made it clear she probably had an athletic build under that purple hoodie. That, and the word VOLLEYBALL revealed itself underneath the words NORTHWESTERN when she rose to her feet.
So she was a brilliant, beautiful, kind, college-level athlete,with a cutesy name and a down-to-earth, friendly vibe that made her really hard to hate.
The answer to my question was a heart-sinkingyes. Yes, she could be even more perfect.
I didn’t know whether to feel totally pathetic or completely confused.
What was Artyom doing making loaded “anything” deals with me when he had a relationship going with this vision of perfection?
I plastered a polite smile on my face anyway. It wasn’t his girlfriend’s fault she was dating a callous asshole.
“Hi, Ruthie,” I said, shaking her hand as best I could while still hanging on to P.M.’s towel harness. “I’m Lydia.”
“I know,” she practically squealed. “And I can’t thank you enough for rescuing P.M. from that awful situation. I can’t wait to take her home!”
“Wait, what?” I asked, shaking my head. “Who said you could take P.M. home?”
Ruthie looked at me, her fairy-tale face scrunching with confusion. Then she turned to glare at Artyom. “Oh my God, Yommie. Did you really not tell her about me?”
Lydia
“Oh my God,Yommie. Did you really not tell her about me?”
The gorgeous Northwestern volleyball player plopped her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the boyfriend who—no, had not told me about her. In fact, I could only hope we hadn’t overlapped in any way when I almost hooked up with him in Berlin.
Guilt—and a whole lot of resentment—cramped my stomach at just the thought of that.
Artyom’s expression remained guilt-free, though, and completely unapologetic. “Puppy is needing good home. You have good home. I making you two meet. What else is there to be saying before you are meeting?”
“Oh my God, why are you such a robot?” The young goddess slapped his arm. “I swear, you’re worse than my dad sometimes. After everything Lydia went through to save P.M., do you really think she’s just going to send her home with anyone? I mean, did you even tell her why you picked my family to adopt this particular baby?”
There was no longer any question about it. These two had known each other for a long time if she was comfortable enough to hit him on the arm and even dare to check him.
A pang of guilt shot through me. Here Ruthie was, advocating for my feelings against her thoughtless boyfriend, and she had no idea about what had transpired in Berlin—or about the “anything” deal that had gone down before her arrival.
Artyom just cranked his head, like Ruthie was a pain he was trying to work out of his neck.
