Page 27 of I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life

“I do too,” I sighed, “I’ve always thought you’d have been really good friends. She actually encouraged me to reach out a few times… it just always felt… I don’t know. I should have.”

“I’m sorry things got so bad between us. I never got the chance to meet her. She sounds like she was really special,” Nalini smiled, and yet I wondered if things happened for a reason. If Nalini and I understood each other better because we’d been apart and life had brought us back together again.

“We need to stop apologizing,” I finally chuckled, “we were seventeen, we’re both in our thirties now. I think we’ve grown up enough to get past it.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Nalini scoffed, “I’m still trying to convince my students I’m not ancient.” I winced; I definitely didn’t feel old enough to be considered “ancient.”

“Don’t deflect; I mean it. We have a fresh start, and we know better than we did back then,” I continued. “What happened, happened. And there’s nothing left to apologize for.” She nodded, though I could tell she was still a little wary about it all. I couldn’t exactly blame her — I had no idea how to reassure her the past was the past. And before I could try, my phone’s alarm went off, letting me know Cassidy needed to be picked up from her sleepover.

“I have to go pick up Cass,” I said, not wanting to move away from the way we were still somewhat cuddled together on the couch. It felt like I was leaving something behind, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was yet. Not when we’d gone from a kiss to me crying over Julia. I had so much to process, so much I didn’t understand, and so much that felt right — even though a voice in the back of my head almost believed everything that happened should feel wrong.

Chapter twenty-one

Nalini

Ihated having a love life. Or kind of a love life. It was complicated. And I detested complicated.

Kissing Kam had been amazing, and pulling back had been what was best for both of us, but despite it being entirely too emotionally cumbersome to even really talk about, it didn’t stop it from being a love life.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t dated before — but most of my relationships fizzled out after a couple of weeks. It was like you explained to someone you’re demisexual and not into hookups, and suddenly you’re ghosted. I needed an emotional connection; I needed there to be something real, and it seemed like nobody else even tried to understand any time I attempted to date

Sometimes I was jealous of Misty’s constant hookups and how easily she seemed to move through the dating world. Other times, I was jealous of Peri being aroace and keeping herself out of it entirely. It was like I was stuck in a strange in-between, and while I didn’t feel broken, I sure felt awkward having to explain being demisexual only to get rejected again and again.

I’d called a Code Magenta sleepover with Misty and Peri to talk about my newfound almost-love life. We’d watched terrible movies and eaten all the baked goods I’d stress-baked. I’d told them about what happened and how I’d been the mature one and stopped things before we both regretted it. And while it'd helped having them as a sounding board, I still had no idea how to even talk to Kam without thinking about how perfect a kisser he was. Which wasn’t great when we’d agreed to remain friends.

Thankfully, I had a break from thinking about it. The New Year’s Eve Festival was coming up, and I had a booth to run. The meeting was only a technicality; Mary-Marigold, the mayor’s event-coordinating wife, had us do almost the same thing every year. Which worked well, as everyone who volunteered did almost the same thing every year, too.

There’d always been two types of people in Briar Hill: those who volunteered for our town events, and those who attended. Especially during our spring and summer events, when tourism was high, plenty of people came from out of town for our Festivals. But it was rare for the volunteer meetings to be packed, so when I walked into the community center, I was shocked to find it standing room only.

Most of the volunteers were people who grew up here, the ones who’d grown up with the festivals, and wanted to put them on for the next generation. It was a big deal when one of the regulars retired from their festival booth; it practically signaled the end of an era. This presented another mystery: most of the people in the room were not locals, but instead, Millennial women who looked like they were applying for a dating show.

I heard whispers, as I pushed my way through the crowd, of disappointed conversations talking about how they thought it’d be Jack or Noah who was here, while others were debating how to talk to him. I rolled my eyes at everyone here, determined to turn Kameron into the next Bachelor. The more I fought to get into the room, the more I realized I didn’t recognize half the people here.

By the time I got to the chairs, I realized there was only one open: the one right next to Kam. Despite all these women being determined to become the next Mrs. Raine, they’d clearly all chickened out on the idea of actually sitting next to him.

“I heard a rumor there’s someone famous here,” I teased him as I sat down, hearing an audible gasp from no less than three people who were shocked by my apparent audacity. “You know anything about that?”

“Nope, I’m just here to volunteer,” Kam said as I caught Maya and her friends all glaring daggers at me from the corner of my eye. I had no idea if she’d wanted this seat empty for a reason or if she had some sort of plan to rescue Kam from all the strangers, but I decided to ignore it. “Wasn’t her name Vanessa in high school?” he asked as he pointed at the stage, ignoring everyone in a way that was clearly practiced.

“Who? Mary-Marigold?” I laughed, “It was. She tried to be a reality TV star not long after you moved and chose a new name to rebrand herself. Her career never took off, but the name stuck. We’re all used to it by now.”

Kam nodded and looked around the room. This wasn’t the time to talk about the somewhat awkward vibes that'd sprung up between us. Not when Mary-Marigold clearly was avoiding starting the meeting with how stressed she looked. The townies kept looking at Kam, trying to decide if he was encouraging everyone here or if he was here to volunteer himself.

Though I did think it helped that he was actively and obviously trying to avoid the spectacle. I’d wished I had that ability. This was the closest thing I’d come to in years to my former infamy, and if the slow uptick in glares my way meant anything, it meant by the end of the meeting almost every stranger would know who I was.

Great.

“I think there’s going to be a rush of people trying to be your booth partner,” I grimaced. “Is it always like this for you?

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how many people are disappointed it’s me here,” Kam scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I really am trying to get involved with the town. Your friend Misty had a…” he started, before an earsplitting blast of mic feedback silenced the room.

“Hello, everyone!” Mary-Marigold anxiously laughed into the microphone. She launched into her usual speech about the history of the Festival, the different booths we typically had, and how the volunteer sign-ups were going to go. It was a speech she used for almost every single town event, and I had it almost memorized, while Kameron was hanging on to almost every word. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to see that my group chat with Peri and Misty exploded.

Peri-Dot

Would it be wrong to pull the fire alarm?

Misty-cal