Page 52 of Never Not Friends

Movement at my side pulls my attention away from the video, and suddenly, my senses go into high alert. I get the feeling that everyone is looking at me. Like maybe there’s something in my teeth, or somehow my shirt became unbuttoned and I’m flashing everyone. That’s the feeling coming over me when the random man with the very nice teeth approaches my table.

I barely have enough time to glance around and see all eyes on me before I pull my AirPods out to greet him.

That’s when it all clicks.

With the AirPods out of my ear—and the laptop speakers blaring my video to all of Starbucks—it dawns on me that my Bluetooth hasn’t been connected at all for the last few minutes.

Heartbreak Central has been blasting throughout the entire restaurant.

I scramble to pause the video, and in the deafening silence, the man speaks, “Hey, your computer isn’t connected to your AirPods. We could all hear what you’re watching. I just thought you’d want to know.”

You guessed right, buddy! I definitely want to know if everyone in the popular drink establishment can hear a stranger on YouTube tell me I’m obsessed with a man who loves someone else.

The sad excuse of my life never ceases to amaze.

That’s when the man leans in, lowering his voice for my ears only. “Sounds like you’re really struggling. Maybe you should talk to a professional and get some help.” He offers a kind smile with a little shrug before returning to his seat.

You know the shade of strawberry milk—it’s like a cute little pink color? Well, that’s not the kind of blush I was blessed with.

No.

My sort of blush matches my red hair. It’s like the kind of sunburn a fair person—such as myself—would get after wandering in the Arizona desert for ten days without sunblock.

My sunburn-blush coats my skin as I sheepishly thank the man. I’m keenly aware of every other patron in the store watching this drama unfold.

I can’t stay here. Not after this kind of humiliation.

Closing my laptop, I pack up my things, somehow managing to keep all of my movements slow and steady, as if I’m not panicking to the very core of my soul.

I even give a few closed-lip smiles to those around me, just so that they all feel good, because that’s who I am. Emma makes sure everybody else around her is okay.

The controlled movements from moments ago are replaced with a brisk walk out the door and to my car. Once safely inside, my head drops, resting my forehead against the warm, leather steering wheel.

Once again, Vinny Brooks is the epicenter of all my joy and all my embarrassing heartache.

I grab my phone, sending a desperate text to Avery.

Emma:

The YouTube video did not work. What else do you have in your heartbreak bag of tricks?

Avery:

So many things.

Emma:

I’m scared to ask.

Avery:

It’s time for a blind date.

Emma:

No. Absolutely not. I’m not ready.

Just the mention of a blind date sends my stomach into a knotted ball.