Chapter Text
You know those moments before the end credits roll, when the music soars and the magic hour light hits the protagonists at the right angle so they’re glowing before their kiss sends them off to live the rest of their fictionally blissful lives? Well, that will never be me. I make other people’s dreams come true, never mine. Instead of the leading lady, I’m the best friend. At this moment, I’ve never been more resentful of the role.
I glance over my shoulder at the couple seated one row back and seven seats over. I could blame my fidgeting on the uncomfortable green folding chair responsible for cutting off the circulation to my butt, but that’s not it.
Applause breaks out around me, sending my heart racing. Surely, I hadn’t missed it. And anyway, I’ve been keeping a not-so-discreet eye on the couple through all six innings of Game One of the World Series, just in case. Sidney is on his feet clapping (as are all the other fans, I notice belatedly). My attention snaps to the field in time to catch a player round home plate.
Even the stranger next to me notices how unfocused I am, elbowing me at the end of the inning as she says, “You sure seem more fascinated by whatever’s going on back there than in the game.” She follows the direction of my gaze, eyes landing on Sidney. “I can see why you’d find him distracting.”
Color heats my cheeks. “Oh, I—”
“But from the way blondie’s clinging to him, I don’t think anyone else stands much of a chance.” She shrugs. “Too bad.”
A stone settles in my stomach, threatening to drag me down. My neighbor has no idea how right she is. During the seventh inning stretch Eliza will propose, and I planned the whole stupid thing. The woman is even sitting in my seat, which is why I’m over here. When she heard I’d gotten tickets to celebrate Sidney’s major sale for a practically unheard of eight book deal with more zeros than seemed real, Eliza begged for my help.
So, like the best friend I am (I suppose I should clarify I’m Sidney’s best friend), not Eliza’s, I agreed. Because Sidney’s happiness is more important than my own, right? That’s what I tell myself anyway, although a small part of me—okay, a piece of me the size of Texas, though realistically it’s more the size of North and South America—knows there’s a chance he might say no.
But why wouldn’t he say yes? Unlike me, everything comes easy to her. Besides, she’s gorgeous and funny. Not to mention, she adores him. But more importantly, he’s always smiling; a dimple pops in his cheek and the lines around his eyes soften as if proving my point.
His brown orbs lock on mine and he mouths, Great game. I nod. I’m pretty sure LA is winning, judging by how many times I’ve almost had a heart attack from the stadium erupting into applause. Tonight, if I can pull myself away from the large bottle of wine I already have chilling at home, I’ll watch the replays, so I’m prepared when Sidney talks about the game at work tomorrow.
The woman beside me stands, and I shift my knees to the side so she can pass. This is it. The seventh inning stretch. Retreating to the bathroom sounds like the best idea I’ve ever had, but I freeze. If Sidney notices my absence, it might raise questions. The last thing I need is for him to suspect my feelings, especially now.
Unable to look at him, I develop a sudden fascination with the jumbotron while my fingers shred the napkin from my long-forgotten hotdog into millions of tiny pieces. Any second, my life will change. I’m about to lose my best friend and any chance that he could have been something more.
I struggle to breathe. Their faces flash up on the screen. Eliza’s talking. Flipping open a box containing a ring which she holds out to Sidney. His eyes widen. Seconds pass. He’s silent. Hope rises in my chest, only for me to go numb when he nods slowly. The ring is slipped on his finger. Someone shouts, “He said yes.” Before they kiss, I avert my eyes.
That’s it. A battle I didn’t even know I was fighting, finished.
My seatmate returns. I don’t bother making room for her to pass, so she climbs over my legs to reach her seat.
“That’s some lucky woman,” she says. “I bet they’ll remember this for the rest of their lives.”
Perhaps it’s the grunt, or maybe it’s whatever contorted look my face had shifted into, but the woman doesn’t attempt conversation with me again.
The game resumes. Strike. Ball. Foul ball. Strike. Strike out. I can’t concentrate on the field. My back is stiffer than a brand-new hardback book. Dreading what I’ll see if I turn around, my gaze remains forward. Darn my failing peripheral vision. I can’t even sneak a peek out of the corner of my eye. Have the overhead lights suddenly all focused on me as though I’m the star of the play? I press a clammy palm to my neck. Despite the chill of the October evening, heat radiates off me.
The rest of the game passes in a blur. Most of the fans have left while I’m in a trance. With legs that feel more like bricks, I slowly make my way up the stairs toward the exit. Sidney and Eliza are waiting, her arm wrapped around his waist as random people congratulate them. She’s beaming. The tips of his ears are pink, but otherwise, there’s not a wrinkle on his face.
“Congratulations,” I say far too loudly that even I wince at the word.
Sidney looks at me, and the jackrabbit that’s taken up residence in my heart ever since I first laid eyes on him takes off. It’s not only because the stupid organ has a terrible tendency to do that whenever his gaze lands on me, but because I’m terrified of what he’ll see. I refuse to be the other woman—not that Sidney would ever cheat. I’m the best friend.
“Are you feeling okay, Charlotte?” Sidney asks.
I force the corners of my lips upward. I ought to be getting an Oscar for mustering a smile given that a category five storm just battered my soul. “Just a little tired.”
“You poor thing,” Eliza coos. “It’s thanks to Charlotte that I pulled this whole thing off. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” She pulls away from Sidney to embrace me. “Thank you, Charlotte.” She keeps an arm around me, which I’m very tempted to fling off as if I can’t support my weight—which is, unfortunately, mostly true. She focuses her attention on Sidney. “You should make sure Charlotte gets home safely. We can celebrate later.”
And now she’s being nice to me. Ugh. It would make me a terrible person if I hate her.
“No, no, I’m fine.” I break free of Eliza’s hold and stumble. Familiar hands halt my descent. I meet Sidney’s eyes for the first time.
He squints at me. “Really?”
I school my features into what I hope is a neutral expression. “Sitting in the sun wore me out.” The sun set hours ago, but could anyone blame me for my brain not firing on all cylinders? “You should go out.” My throat snags on the next work. I swallow, forcing myself to speak. “Celebrate.”
“I don’t mind,” Eliza says. “We have the rest of our lives.”
I can’t help it; I wrinkle my nose. If I were her, I would mind, but she might be a better person than me. “I don’t want to be a bother.” Sweat beads at my hairline from all the attention.
Sidney pats my arm. “You’re never a bother.”
“I-if you’re sure …” I look from Eliza to Sidney. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, anyway.”