Page 79 of Okay, Cupid

“Maybe, but isn’t poetry up for interpretation?”

“I’d agree with you if we didn’t spend two entire days dissecting that thing. The poem has a meaning.”

“Not if I decide it doesn’t.”

“You can’t just—”

“Too late!” He stops me dead in my tracks. “I’ve made an executive decision. Frost was a hack; the poem has no meaning.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can.” Huy pauses. “I was elected … the … mayor of poetry.”

“The mayor of poetry?”

“Mhmm.”

“Elected by the people?”

“For the people,” he says. “So, I’ve signed that into law.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re no fun.”

There’s that smile again, so obvious on his lips.

“Besides,” he continues, “you don’t know if the promised path is the best option either. Andy could’ve been fired; she could’ve lost who she truly is, her relationships. She could’ve ended up just like Miranda.”

“Right, but that’s a movie,” I tell him. “This is real life.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean the risk isn’t worth taking sometimes.”

“You’d give up your whole life for some unknown future? Really?”

He hesitates, as if to prove my point. But then he finally answers me. “If I thought that version of myself might be happier, then why not?”

“It’s not always about happiness,” I tell him.

“I know, which is why I think you should chase it when you can.”

His words sting, like salt in a wound, and I have to remember that I can’t just decide to go against the grain, to decide against everything that I’ve ever known for some potential nothing. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I’d ever get the chance to find Alice again, or Neve.

Or Huy.

This is my life.

And it’s my duty to live it in service to humans, to be a Cupid.

That’s it.

“Oh jeez. It’s soooooo late.” Huy stifles a yawn, which then makes me yawn. “I should go to bed.”

“This was fun,” I tell him. “And I got to show you my favorite movie.”

“Is it your favorite?” he asks.

“Yeah.”