Someone You Love by Kristen Granata

Charly

Never go to a Taylor Swift concert when you’re going through a breakup.

Jenny and I had a lot of fun last night, but every damn love song reminded me of Bryce. I must’ve cried about twenty times. The little girl next to me handed me a tissue at one point.

I’m so pathetic.

What’s worse, I came home to write about it in my journal, and realized that I don’t have it. I searched my apartment high and low, but it’s nowhere to be found.

So, that’s it. Mom’s bucket list is complete, and the journal she got me is gone. The summer is officially over for good.

Cold soda pours over my hand as it overflows from the cup. “Shit.” I’ve been walking around the diner in a daze, forgetting orders, and overfilling cups at the fountain. I keep telling myself it’s because I was out late last night, but the truth is, I haven’t been myself since I got back to New York.

Jenny scurries behind the counter, and takes the tray of sodas out of my hands. “Table four needs a menu.”

“Okay, so I’ll drop off a menu on my way to bring these drinks to table six.”

“I’ve got table six for you. Go to table four.”

My eyes narrow. “What is going on? What’s wrong with table four? Is it that creepy dude in the trench coat again? I swear, I think he’s naked under that thing.”

She chews her bottom lip. “Greg is here. He wants to talk to you.”

“Are you kidding me?” I slap my palm against my forehead. “I’d rather get flashed by the trench coat.”

Jenny curls her top lip in disgust. “Eww. Don’t put that out into the universe. Now go. The sooner you talk to Greg the Cheater, the sooner he’ll go away.”

After I throw a silent tantrum, I take slow, tentative steps toward table four. I go the long way around the perimeter of the room so I can walk up behind Greg, giving me more time to collect my thoughts.

How is it going to feel coming face to face with him for the first time since I last saw him?

Is he still with Brenda?

Were there others before Brenda?

What will I say to him?

His long leg bounces under the table, and his hands are folded on top of the paper placemat. He’s in a light-grey suit, which means he came here straight from work, and his leather briefcase is propped up against the side of the booth.

His blue eyes lift to mine when I stop beside his table. “Charly.” He swallows. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard your tacos were back on the menu.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “You know I always loved those.”

“Hmm.” I nod, and pull out my pad from my apron tied around my waist. “Will that be all?”

He hands reach out, and wrap around mine. “Charly, please sit. I know you’re working, but I won’t take up too much of your time.”

I stifle a groan, and slump into the booth across from him. “You have five minutes.”

“Look, I hate the way we left things, and I just want to apologize to you. Face to face. You didn’t deserve what I did to you.”

Images of Greg with his pants down around his ankles, screwing his coworker on the kitchen table flash through my mind. “I definitely didn’t deserve that.”

“I know you were dealing with a lot during most of our relationship.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Choose your next words wisely.”

“I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did.” His eyes roam the diner, bouncing from wall to wall like he’s searching for the words he wants. “I should’ve talked to you about how I was feeling, and things could’ve gone a lot differently. I’m sorry I didn’t do that. It’s been bothering me that we never got closure. That I ended things the way I did.”

I close my eyes, and when I open them again, I’m reaching across the table for Greg’s hand. “I forgive you, Greg. I’m not mad at you. I never was. I understand why you did what you did, and though I wish you wouldn’t have done it that way, it doesn’t matter now because you weren’t right for me, and I wasn’t right for you. So, it’s all water under the bridge.”

“Really?”

I nod. “Maybe next time, in your future relationship, you’ll communicate with your girlfriend instead of taking the easy way out.”

Greg opens his mouth to speak, but someone stops next to our table, drawing his attention. “Uh ...”

I glance up, and my mouth falls open.

Familiar blue eyes stare down at me like lasers. They’re such a stark contrast against his tanned skin and dark hair. They flick to my hands, still joined with Greg’s on the table, and I pull them back onto my lap. Then, a slow, sly grin creeps across his face.

Greg leans in. “Are you ... do you ...?”

I gesture to the man towering over me. “Greg, this is Anthony, the quarterback for the New England Patriots. Anthony, this is my ex-boyfriend, Greg.”

Anthony’s eyes light up in amusement. “Greg the Cheater?”

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Anthony sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet ya, Greg.” As soon as Greg places his hand inside Anthony’s massive grip, Anthony jerks him out of the booth. “You should get going now. Have a nice night.”

Greg stumbles, and leans down to pick up his briefcase, his eyes bouncing between me and Anthony, who’s trying to make himself comfortable in the narrow booth. “Uh, Charly ...?”

“Like I told you, Greg. No hard feelings. I forgive you.”

He nods. “Okay. Bye, I guess.”

Anthony gives him a dramatic wave. “Buh-bye, Greg.”

Greg scurries off like he isn’t sure if Anthony will come charging after him.

I slap my palm over my mouth as a laugh bursts from my throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He grins, leaning back and draping his arm over the top of the booth. “Came here to see you.”

“Why?” My heart stalls out. “Oh, my God. Is Bryce okay? Is it Beatrice? Did something happen?”

“Whoa, whoa. Relax.” He lifts his palm. “Everyone is fine.”

I clutch my chest. “Oh, thank God.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You would’ve known that if you answered any of Bryce’s phone calls.”

I roll my eyes. “Is that what this is about? He’s mad that I’m not picking up, so he sent his minion to make it better?”

“Okay, hold on a sec’.” He raises his index finger. “First of all, I am no one’s minion. I am the quarterback. I’m the team captain, and I make the plays. I’m ... well, whoever is in charge of the minions.”

I can’t help but smile. “Okay. So, why are you here then?”

He clasps his hands on the table. “I’m here because I need a date to a charity gala next week.”

A sharp pain stabs my chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Wait, just hear me out. Bryce isn’t going.”

My eyebrows pinch together. “Why not?”

He lifts a blocky shoulder. “I don’t know. Couldn’t get a straight answer out of him. But Nana is taking his ticket, and going in his place. That leaves one ticket left, and I need a plus one.”

My eyes narrow. “Why didn’t Beatrice call me to tell me this?”

“Bryce was going to tell you, but you never answered. Have you listened to any of his messages?”

My heart sinks. “That’s why he’s been calling?”

He nods. “He said Nana has your dress, and your journal too.”

“She found my journal? Oh, that’s great news.” I blow out a sigh of relief. “I thought it was gone forever.”

“See? This works out perfectly. So, whaddya say? Will you be my date, Miss Johnson?”

Why would I attend this event without Bryce? It was a big deal for him to go, and I hate that he’s regressing back to his reclusive ways.

Then again, it would be great to see Beatrice. She spent a lot of money on that dress, and I’d feel awful letting it go to waste. Plus, I’d get my journal back.

Before I can answer, I spot Jenny speed-walking down my aisle carrying a full tray of drinks. She winks, and places her finger over her mouth, signaling for me to be quiet as she approaches.

I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, giving her a look that asks, What are you doing?

As Jenny reaches our table, she trips and rolls her ankle. Her body flies forward—dumping the drinks all over Anthony.

Anthony sputters as we both spring to our feet. “Fuck, that’s cold!”

Ice cubes and soda slosh all over the table, and nearby patrons gasp.

Anthony spots Jenny on the floor, and bends down to help her to her feet. He lifts her as if she’s the size of a Chihuahua, steadying her with his grip on her biceps. “Are you okay?”

Stunned, Jenny gazes up into Anthony’s eyes. “Y-you’re not Greg.”

His head jerks back. “No. I’m Anthony.”

I peek out from behind his large frame. “He’s the quarterback for the New England Patriots.”

“Wait a second.” He releases her, and takes a step back. Ice cubes crunch under his feet. “You thought I was Greg the Cheater. You did that on purpose?”

Jenny brushes it off like it’s no big deal. “I was trying to shrivel up his dick with all the ice cubes. Maybe it would fall off or something.”

I hold my breath waiting for Anthony’s response while he stares at my best friend like she’s an alien.

Santiago comes running from the kitchen. “Sir, I am so sorry. Your entire meal is on the house. Can I get you a towel, or—”

Anthony throws his head back and closes his eyes, a loud bellowing laugh ripping from his chest. “Oh, my God. That’s amazing.” He looks at me, and jerks his thumb at Jenny. “This is your friend? She’s badass.”

I shake my head. “Oh, she’s definitely something.”

Santiago glares at Jenny. “Go get the mop and clean this up.”

Jenny grimaces at Anthony. “Sorry about all this.” Then, she saunters away singing, “Get a bucket and a mop. That’s a WAP. That’s a WAP.”

I slap my palm over my face. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Anthony leans down, and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Now you owe me. I’ll pick you up next weekend for our date night, Charly.”

And he walks out of the diner, leaving me standing in a puddle of soda and melting ice.

“What the hell happened?” Santiago asks.

“Jenny tripped over something on the floor. Someone’s briefcase maybe. I don’t know.”

His brown eyes narrow as if he doesn’t believe me, but a smirk tips his lips. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you can help your partner in crime and get this cleaned up.”

I salute him. “Yes, sir.”

He stalks away muttering Spanish expletives under his breath.

Jenny wheels the bucket out of the kitchen, and I apologize to the nearby customers who got splashed with soda and hit with ice cubes.

“Who was that, Charly?” Jenny’s brown eyes are wide as she whisper-yells. “And how do you know him? He was the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“He’s Bryce’s best friend. I met him while I was at the inn over the summer.” I swipe more ice cubes off the table into the bucket. “He wants me to be his date to the charity gala next week.”

“The one you were supposed to go to with Bryce?”

I nod. “He said Bryce isn’t going. But Beatrice will be there, and she has my journal.”

“Oh, good. See, I told you that you probably left it at the inn.” She pauses. “How would Bryce feel if you went with Anthony?”

I chew my bottom lip. “Does it matter? He doesn’t want to be with me.”

Jenny places her hand over mine to stop me from cleaning. “Char, you have to know he wants to be with you. I don’t know the guy, and even I know that.”

Sadness pricks my eyes. “Well, if he wanted to be with me, then he’d be with me.”

“You know it’s not as simple as that.” She tosses the soaked rag into the bucket. “Sometimes, loving someone isn’t enough to make you stay with them.”

My eyes widen. “Uh, okay. You’re gonna need to explain the fine print of that statement.”

She groans, and covers her face with her hands.

“Jen, is everything okay with Rob?”

She shakes her head, still covering her face. “Please don’t make me talk about it right now.”

I hold up my palms. “Okay, I won’t. But we are talking about it at some point.”

Guilt churns in my gut. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own sorrow that I haven’t noticed my best friend is going through something with her boyfriend.

“Why haven’t you talked to me about this?”

“I’m not ready to.” She slumps against the worn material of the booth. “Right now, I’d rather talk about your gorgeous friend. Tell me, how is it that you manage to find all the hot guys?”

“It’s easy finding a hot guy. It’s a bit more difficult finding a hot guy who actually wants to be with you. Greg cheated on me. Bryce can’t let himself trust me. And Anthony ... well, he’s a player.”

“Of course he is.” She rolls her eyes. “Men suck.”

My mind drifts to Bryce for the millionth time today. “Not all men suck.”

Jenny frowns. “I’m sorry about Bryce.”

“Me too.”

Me too.