Page 55 of Okay, Cupid

“You’re telling me.”

“And I know that …” He pauses, and I can almost hear what’s coming next like a prophet. “I know that what happened last summer might still have you worried. But Richard wasn’t just hyping you up for no reason, Jude. You’re an amazing Cupid, and you’re good at what you do.”

“Do you really believe that?”

He nods. “Your confidence being shaken is normal. You only truly fail if you stay down when you fall.”

“God,” I groan. “That was the corniest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I think I got that from a movie you made me watch. Did it help?”

“Kind of.” I hate to admit it, but I do feel better now, in a way. Cal’s right—it’s just my anxiety getting to me.

To become human would mean leaving this all behind, sacrificing everything I’ve built to leave Leah and Richard behind.

And Cal … a life without Cal would be a quiet one, maybe. But it’d also be so lonely.

I’m a Cupid. I belong in this world. I belong with Leah and Richard, and I belong with Cal. This is my home; these are my people.

“Oh wow, you clean up nicely,” Alice says as she unlocks the front doors of the school for me. It’s weird being at the school after-hours, all the lights off, no students milling about.

It’s eerie.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “I’m the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been.”

Sure, I’ve done my makeup and my hair: I’ve tried to go for something natural looking, no patterns or anything ornate like that. Some foundation, eye shadow, light blush, my brows. The most outlandish thing I did was draw on some fake freckles. But the outfit itself is too formal—for some reason, I decided I should wear a tie. A tie.

“If it helps, you don’t look it. It’s just a couple of hours. Think you can make it?”

“I’ll survive.”

“Come on, we’re just setting up in the auditorium.”

I follow Alice through the empty hallways that seem so eerie without any students walking through them.

“Are your parents coming?”

“My dad is.”

“Just him?” I ask.

“Well, considering my mom divorced him and moved back to Vietnam, I doubt she’ll show.”

Oh. “Ouch.”

“Eh. It was a few years ago. I’m fine with it.” Her voice is so nonchalant.

“I mean … should you be, though?”

She actually laughs at that. “Not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“I guess not.” I go quiet.

“My dad and I are fine as we are. I’ve already been through all those emotions. I accepted a while ago that she’s not coming back. And I don’t blame her. She never wanted to marry my dad. She felt like she had to. She never wanted kids—she didn’t keep that a secret. It’s just how life went.”

“That’s still not fair to you,” I say.

She snorts. “You my therapist now?”