The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

Too bad he went from being real cute to being the worst guy on the planet for not holding on to his tray with a plate full of red sauce to my friends. I guess I’ll find other friends.

  “Lilliana, the sauce is all over your hair,” one of the girls pointed.

  My fingers had picked the red creamy tomato sauce from my long brown hair that I had spent an hour straightening that morning.

  “She looks like she belongs at the bottom of a tomato sauce plant,” a girl said from across the room and everyone laughed but this time it was at me.

  I wanted to run to the bathroom and not come out until the last bell but instead I raised my eyes.

  He stood in front of me and his dark blue eyes opened wide. He mouthed, “Sorry,” picked up his tray, and strode away leaving me there with people still laughing.

  You’re cute but it’s too late, dude. I’ll be lucky if I have one friend left after today.

  Ugh! I rolled my eyes and looked down at my tomato-speckled top.

  There was no doubt that he ruined the silk top I had spent fifteen minutes debating if I should wear to school since it was part of my expensive back-to-school wardrobe. My mom made me use my birthday money to pay for it because it cost more than half her clothes budget for me.

  It’s ruined.

  He’s going to pay for this. One day, I’ll make him pay. He not only made me a laughing-stock in front of the whole school but he also destroyed my silk top and with a simple silent “sorry” walked away as if nothing happened.

  And throughout high school, he always managed to mess up my hair or my clothes or my shoes. He always feigned clumsiness or whatever other excuse he decided would appease me.

  It never did.

  Because I knew it was a lie.

  Worst part was that deep down every time he accidently touched me I felt warm but my head always fought against him.

  He had made me a laughingstock in front of the whole school and I couldn’t let my heart forget it.

  But no matter how much I tried to avoid him, we always ended up having at least one class together. What made it worse was that I couldn’t even avoid him in the afternoon clubs.

  Clubs I thought for sure he wouldn’t be interested in he joined anyway.

  Did he really want to join the Crochet Club? Or did he want to harass me for the four years?

  Freshman year, he announced that his grandmother loved to crochet and knit and he wanted to donate his crocheted hats to preemies in the NICU to help her. Everyone loved him for that act of kindness and welcomed him with loving arms. Everyone except me because I suspected he lied, but every Thursday afternoon he produced hat after hat.

  It didn’t help his geeky status but he didn’t care. He continued to show up every club day.

  During all four years, I tried ignoring him but it hadn’t worked.

  He hung in there like a bad hang nail I couldn’t cut.

  Thank goodness once we graduated, he left for an out-of-state college and his family moved away a couple of years later.

  I never had to see him in Benton Beach, where I worked, or Newton, where I lived.

  The past should always stay in the past.

  Despite when you continued to think about…

  “Lilliana?” The gorgeous guy with dark blue eyes waved his hand in front of me. “I don’t believe you’ve heard a word I’ve said since they dropped the plates.”

  I blinked a couple of times as the server picked up the last pieces of the broken plate of tortellini and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Uhm…”

  How do you admit that you’re thinking of someone from high school that you haven’t seen in eight years? That one guy I didn’t even like.

  Another wasted date.

  Thank goodness our server had dropped off the check with our coffee before the plate fell off his tray.

  I gulped the coffee as I thought of an excuse to leave when my phone’s alarm rang. “Sorry, the tomato sauce reminded me of a client’s request that I should take care of tonight. You understand, right?” I grabbed my bag, not waiting for him to agree, and set two twenties on the table. “I’m terribly sorry.” I smiled as I placed my black cloth napkin on the table and stood. “Maybe a raincheck when my job eases up,” I said it like a statement. One I didn’t think I’d ever fulfill.

  He nodded and smiled. “Sure, whenever you can find the time,” he said but his tone sounded resigned as if he knew that my workload would always be too much.

  How could I accept another date when I spent ten minutes thinking about the high school boy that I didn’t even like instead of the man in front of me. It didn’t bode well for future dates.

  My legs couldn’t carry me out of the marina fast enough.

  The mystery of my life was that no matter how great the guy seemed to be my heart would always find a way to remind me of him.

  I can’t believe that I’m still thinking about the day I met him and our high school years while on a date with a gorgeous guy who looks just like him.

  When will I stop thinking about him and the past?

  Matthew

  It seemed like I had been waiting forever but it had only been a minute until my best friend, Enrique Rodriguez, had answered his phone. I stared at the napkin on the old wooden table at McSorley’s Old Ale House in New York City, which had been a favorite hangout for Enrique and me during our four years of medical school.

  All our other classmates had left over the weekend but we decided to stay a few extra days and actually enjoy the city hanging out together. He was flying out the next evening and I was flying out the following morning.

  The irony of being the last of our group to be at McSorley’s was that our classmates had to drag both of us there four years ago. Neither one of us were heavy drinkers but the hassle-free atmosphere kept us coming back to relax after a long semester or clinics. The owners didn’t mind that we ordered waters instead of their ales. Probably because we always left a good tip to make up for not drinking.

  Glancing around the large room the nostalgia and sadness rolled into one sentiment because unless we purposely met up again in New York City, it would be our last time together at McSorley’s.

  Our last time being free from the medical school routine.

  It would become part of my former life as a medical student: A distant memory that I’d miss once I returned to South Florida and began my residency.

  Just as college and high school had become distant memories, both of which would always be part of my past.

  My fingers twirled the napkin round and round thinking about my former life in South Florida as Enrique continued his conversation with his fiancée. She wanted his opinion as she didn’t want to be a bridezilla and overrun their wedding.

  The deep rich brown color of the napkin reminded me of the girl with the longest hair and the cutest freckles from high school.

  Lilliana Francesca. The one girl I thought about…a lot. The one girl who drew me back to South Florida.

  I could still recall everything that happened that day despite how many years had passed.

  My first day at Stonehaven High, I stood at the entrance of the cafeteria scanning the area by the windows, hoping to find at least one friend from the youth group my parents had made me attend during the summer. Once I spotted her talking to a group of girls, I couldn’t help staring at her profile as I held the strap of my backpack.

  Not sure why I couldn’t stop looking at her because she seemed to have a normal profile but there was something about her that caused me to want to see her face.

  She laughed with her friends, loudly and without inhibition, and turned her head in my direction. I stepped aside to let a couple by, hoping that she hadn’t caught me staring.

  Waiting a couple of minutes, I strode to the serving line, not even peeking in her direction. I quickly picked the ravioli combo lunch, grabbed a water bottle, and paid for my meal.

  I took a deep breath before I entered the eating area and my
eyes slowly perused the window area hoping to see one of the guys from youth group.

  Our gazes met and my heart seemed to spiral as if it pirouetted around a Christmas tree.

  Dang, she has the most beautiful amber eyes I’ve ever seen.

  She looked away first and I quickly rescanned the area. Hoping that he would arrive soon, I slowed my pace.

  What I really wanted to do was run up to her and find out who she was, but acting like a stalker would not make a good impression.

  And I wanted to impress her…as much as a lanky fourteen year old boy with thick glasses and a mouth full of metal could impress a beauty like her. The only thing I had going for me was my long hair that girls always liked to play with at the private middle school in New York.

  My feet shuffled forward as I moved toward the tables closest to her.

  A couple of feet from her table, I snuck a peek at her again, failing to see the football player, who could have been a senior in college, strutting toward me. If I hadn’t been hyper focused on her I would have moved aside. A second later, he shoved his shoulder into mine causing my shoulder to jerk back.

  Whether he did it on purpose or not, I’d always wondered, but decided that it was better to pretend it was an accident.

  A future high school reunion might provide the answer.

  The tray slipped out of my fingers, and landed in front of her, the tomato sauce dotted her hair and top.

  I focused on her reaction as I waited for the football player to apologize.

  She didn’t appear ready to kill me.

  A few girls laughed by her table but I couldn’t hear what they had said.

  But her expression changed and I instantly knew she had put me in the guy to watch out for.

  “Dude, watch where you’re going,” the guy growled. He wore the school football jersey and he had the buzz cut that all the football players sported at Stonehaven High.

  Our haircuts are polar opposites. Will I fit in?

  I muttered, “Tight quarters,” to the football player I decided I would stay clear of for four years.

  I let him pass me before I made my way to her table.

  A girl shouted something from across the cafeteria and everyone laughed.

  I wanted to reach down and hug her but all I could do was mouth, “Sorry,” as she met my gaze. Her look confirmed that she demoted me to the guy to avoid list, probably in the number one spot.

  Still, being a clueless teen, I thought maybe I had a chance so I smiled before I picked up my tray and walked to the opposite side of the cafeteria.

  She smelled like fresh strawberries with tomato sauces. Maybe we can laugh about it.

  I thought of ways that I could convince her that I wouldn’t do it again.

  It took me days to find out her name but no matter how much I tried to be friendly she always pushed me away. Not that she was mean about it but I could tell that she didn’t want to forgive me for covering her in tomato sauce.

  And her rejection during the beginning of the school year should have been enough to make forget about pursuing her but it didn’t.

  Instead her rejections caused a spark in me to spend as much time with her and change her mind that I wasn’t a jerk.

  It was short lived.

  After a couple of months of failing to change her opinion I decided not to bother.

  But I still liked her and it seemed that we always ended with one class together and one extra-curriculum activity. It shocked me when I saw her in the crocheting club freshman year as she didn’t seem the type but I wasn’t giving up my goal to make one hundred hats for the NICU unit merely because she had signed up as well.

  Disappointing my grandmother wasn’t in my game plan.

  “Dude, are you paying attention to me?” Enrique shook his head. “Why are you in space? Were you out drinking before we met?”

  “You know that I don’t drink in the morning.” I scoffed. “Sorry, what did you ask me again?”

  “I asked you three times if you can make it to dance lessons starting next Friday night.”

  “Sure thing. I told you I would do my best to make sure I didn’t embarrass your family when we dance merengue or salsa.”

  He sighed. “You really haven’t been listening to me, even though your head was nodding away. I said it’s our dance number, we’re learning. You need a partner to learn merengue and salsa so that will be the following week if Ginny can schedule everyone at the same time.”

  “Makes sense.” The server picked up our glasses. I’d been so busy remembering Lilliana that I hadn’t taken more than a couple of sips. “It’s in Benton Beach?” I scrunched my eyebrows, trying to recall what he had said so I didn’t look like a complete idiot in front of him.

  He nodded. “No, we decided to use Fred Astaire Dance Studio in Wellington right by the furniture store. You can’t miss the studio’s sign from State Route 441/7.”

  “I’ll definitely be there. And you’ll be happy to know that I’ve reached out to the other groomsmen to plan your bachelor party. Do you know who my partner is yet?”

  “You’ll be escorting Ginny’s younger sister, as she’s the maid of honor down the aisle and of course dancing with her. Ginny is finalizing a diner at the Breakers at six so I’ll set up the dancing at eight-thirty.” He pointed at my phone. “Maybe I should send you a calendar invite?”

  We laughed because I was notorious for entering everything on my calendar app.

  “Has she settled her mind if she wants us to wear tuxedos? I have a black one if that is the color she chooses but I have to send it out to the cleaners and the Stonehaven cleaners will do a great job. Only thing is that I have to give them three weeks for a tuxedo or they’ll charge a hefty amount.”

  “Not sure. Ginny may want grey tuxes instead of black ones or maybe suits but she hasn’t decided yet. She still has plenty of time to decide as we’re easier than the bridesmaid dresses. I think she said that the Belevieau family has a bunch of them at the island from somebody’s wedding instead of everyone bringing their own if she decides to go with tuxes. And the local tailor can fix any alterations during the week.” He waved his index finger. “Just remember that there can’t be any girls jumping out of a cake at the bachelor party. In fact, don’t have any girls there.” He laughed. “Ginny will allow her sister to string you up by your fingernails if you violate that rule. Too bad you didn’t meet Binny the last time she was up here. Ginny says she thinks you’ll like her sister.”

  What kind of girl is named Binny? I’ve never asked him if that was her real name or her nickname. But with a name like Binny, she may be the type to get her manicure twice a week. “You know that I’m not ready for a relationship. At least not until a few months after I begin my residency.” It was the excuse that I always used because despite having dated in college and med school I still hoped that Lilliana would agree to give me a chance.

  When choosing hospitals to begin my residence my junior, I applied within fifty miles of Stonehaven.

  I’d stalked her social media pages and she hadn’t left the area.

  Too bad she somehow always managed to be out of town when I was there interviewing the year before.

  “I’m warning you, once you meet Binny you might just change your mind. Remember the dinner at the Breakers for dinner next week and then the dance place. We could all follow each other. You’re not heading anywhere the following week, are you?”

  I checked my phone. “Nope, I’ll return to Stonehaven Monday and I’m not planning to leave the Stonehaven area. Who’ll be at the dinner?”

  “Great. I think Ginny said that everyone including Binny will be there. That is if she can get out of work. Let’s see what Binny thinks of you once she meets you.”

  I smiled as I reached for my wallet knowing that Binny would never outshine Lilliana.

  Nobody ever did.

  Lilliana

  “I’m not sure I can make it this Friday,” I whispered into the phone. “Why do I hav
e to be there, again?” My attention did not waver from the mahogany double door.

  My client frowned on anyone speaking on their cell phone right before a meeting but I made an exception since they had yet to arrive and my sister was in Australia. A couple of people had raised their eyebrows when my phone broke the silence in the conference room but I had ignored them. She usually didn’t call unless it was important. Unfortunately, her wedding plans pushed everything into super important.

  “We thought it would be good for the entire wedding party to have dinner together. It’ll make it easier than meeting for the first time during the group dance practices, where we’ll be super stressed trying to learn the dances. You’re my maid of honor, so please say you’ll come. I know it is really short notice but I haven’t had a chance to talk to you in two weeks.” She sighed. “You’re always so busy working and the time difference is horrible. Anyway, it’s at six Friday night so you should be done with work. We’re having it in a private room at the Breakers Hotel and we’re paying for it.” She sounded as if she was bribing me.

  “Hold on.” I scrolled through my phone and confirmed that my last meeting was at three.

  I can run home, shower, and change into jeans before then, so why not.

  “Sure. I’ll be there. Now I need to get off the phone as this meeting is about to start. Love you.”

  “Wear something cute and not jeans. Love you, too!”

  I don’t understand why she couldn’t send me an email and why do I have to wear something cute. Wedding day, please hurry up and get here before she really loses it.

  The client’s team rushed into the large conference room with their hands full of binders and I shut everything out ready for the onslaught of work.

  The large clock sitting on the bathroom counter read ten minutes before seven as I adjusted my silky red dress. Snapping my bag, I stared at the mirror and thought it looked cute enough for a dinner to meet with the two groomsmen and best man I hadn’t met.

  It’s not as if either of them would catch my attention. Enrique was a great guy for my sister but he was intense. He probably needed to be as a future surgeon. If his two medical friends acted as he did they would definitely be too intense for me.