One Big Mistake: a friends to lovers rom-com

by Whitney Barbetti

  “Hour away. One of them is going to rent a room from me when this place is done.”

  “Oh,” I said. “No wild night for you then, huh?”

  “No.” An awkward silence lasted for a moment before my brother asked, “What about you? Still chasing that girl?”

  He and I had talked about my most recent ex-girlfriend just two days before, the day she and I had split up, but it was evident that his memory wasn’t totally there. I wanted to pretend like we’d never had this conversation before, but in a weird way, it felt like lying not to acknowledge that I’d already told him. “Psh,” I said, playing it cool. “I’ve got a quiet night ahead of me. You know I don’t chase girls. Especially not any at the moment.”

  “What was her name? She works at a grocery store. Right?”

  I was impressed that he remembered that much about someone who never really came around the house but had forgotten that she and I weren’t dating anymore. “Megan.”

  “Megan. Yes. She’s cute.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s not in the picture anymore.”

  “Oh, why?”

  “We weren’t really moving in the same direction.” She dumped me. And I wasn’t heartbroken about it.

  “Is there more than one direction to move in a relationship?”

  “Duh.” I brushed dried mud off my knees. “She wanted to talk about moving in together. We only dated six months and I was still in the phase of deciding if I liked her enough to see her more than once or twice a week.”

  “You didn’t already know that before you started dating?”

  “I didn’t really know her before we started dating.”

  “That’s why you become friends with someone first.”

  “No, that doesn’t work.”

  Asa laughed at me. “Sure it does. Weren’t you friends with Tori back in the day, before you started chasing her?”

  “Okay, for one—I didn’t chase her. And two, no. We’re friends now, but back then she was just someone fascinating to me.”

  “And she’s not anymore?”

  “She’s a friend now,” I said again. “There are friends,” I said, using my left hand to make an invisible box. “And there are girlfriends.” I made a separate box with my right hand. “I can go from girlfriend to friend—rare, might I note—but the other way doesn’t work because I can’t go friend to girlfriend and back to friend. If I hooked up with a friend, I can’t undo that and go back to being friends like before.”

  “What kind of bullshit hypothesis is that?”

  “It’s my bullshit hypothesis.”

  “And it’s not founded by any truth. Plenty of people have fallen in love with their friends.”

  “But those people aren’t me,” I said. “If I had become friends with Megan before we dated, she’d have seen how much of a dick I am—so we wouldn’t have dated. And if somehow we had, how I was as a boyfriend would’ve made her not want to be my friend afterward.”

  “There’s a solution, you know. Maybe don’t be a shitty boyfriend.”

  “I’m not a shitty boyfriend. I’m just not the most present one.”

  “Yeah, that makes you pretty shitty, no offense.”

  “Okay, fine. I’m shitty. I’m selfish because I like my alone time and no one I’ve dated seems to get that. I’m inattentive because I don’t respond to texts right away and I’m boring because I’d rather stay in than go out ninety percent of the time.” I didn’t know why it bugged me so much that my brother was asking me these questions. We’d talked about girls before, but he’d never questioned my dating philosophy.

  “Are those things girls have said about you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm.” My brother raked his fingers through his beard. I might be bigger than him, but the bastard had grown a better beard than me and he knew it. “I don’t think being the opposite of clingy makes you a bad boyfriend.”

  “Apparently, you haven’t been dating around Amber Lake recently.”

  “No. No, I haven’t.” We stared out over the lake for a while. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

  I held a breath. Had he already forgotten what we’d just discussed?

  “Since you’re not seeing Megan?”

  I let go of the breath.

  “Probably going to look up paint colors for the place. I’m no fashion expert—”

  “—understatement of the year.”

  “Yeah, says the guy who wears the same four flannels in the same order. Red, blue, green, black. You take such risks, big brother.”

  “That’s because that’s the order mom organizes them in my closet.”

  “Do I need to say, ‘you could be a grown ass adult and do it yourself’ back to you?”

  Asa squinted at me. “Touché.”

  4

  NAVY

  My plan had been to go by the store and check on Roger and Delilah, but I was so wrapped up in my head that I found myself sitting at the local pizza place, picking at the lone slice I’d bought. My twin sisters, Jade and Rose, were sleeping over at a friend’s house as they often did on weekends. I probably wouldn’t even see them until Sunday night. Since I was staying at my aunt’s while she was out of town, I didn’t go to my apartment like I usually would.

  I absorbed the energy of those I was in contact with, like a thirsty sponge. I wasn’t usually the girl in a booth alone, moping. Violet had really worried me and until she was back in Amber Lake, I didn’t think I would be able to rest.

  My phone buzzed across the table, knocking into my soda.

  Keane: Whatcha doin?

  It was from Keane. I took a photo of the pizza and sent it to him without typing any actual words. His reply was quick.

  Keane: Wild Friday night you’re having. Save me a slice. I’ll be there in a min.

  I rubbed a hand over my face. I probably looked as haggard as I felt, but Keane had seen me worse. He’d seen me at my lowest—one of the many times my parents had broken promises—and he’d quietly mopped up my face during at least a couple regretful drunk cries after a breakup.

  The chime above the door rang and though I knew only a minute had passed since his text, I didn’t actually expect it to be him.

  But it was. He gave me his big, cheesy grin and then leaned over the counter to flirt with the middle-aged cashier. Really, it was more of an attempt to flirt, because she swatted him away like she always did. “Get out of here with that mouth,” she said, giving him a soda cup as he dropped a couple of bills in the tip jar.

  He filled his soda and made his way to the table, still with that infectious grin that I loved so much. His hair was wet from rain, causing the ends to begin to curl. He had the prettiest little birthmark that topped the lone dimple on his face like a cherry on top of a sundae.

  Out of habit, I slid out of the booth and into his arms.

  “Mmm,” he said, giving me the big bear squeeze I adored so much. “Have I told you that you give the best damn hugs, Navy Jane?”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” When we separated after I’d held on just a touch too long, I knew from his expression that he sensed something was off.

  “Giving Rhonda hell?” I asked in deflection.

  “What’s this?” he asked, ignoring my question entirely as he picked up my soggy slice of pizza and then dropped it. “Have you been babysitting this slice for the last twelve hours or something?” Before I could open my mouth, he slid back out of the booth and approached the counter. I saw him hold up four fingers and Rhonda’s usually stony lips cracked a smile as he paid her, dropping the rest of his change into the jar. I couldn’t hear their conversation above the clatter of the people in the booth in front of me, but I knew he was sweet-talking her again, based on the paper plate she held up threateningly.

  When he returned to the table two minutes later, his arms were laden with four slices, each the size of my head.

  “You didn’t have to get me a slice,” I said as he plopped d
own opposite me.

  “Oh.” He pressed a hand to his chin and gazed thoughtfully at all four slices. “Did you think one of these was for you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have an impressive appetite, but four slices of Debbie’s NY pizza is a feat even for you.”

  “I’ve worked up an appetite.” But he shoved two of the four slices toward me anyway. I didn’t think I could eat one slice, much less two, so I pushed one back to him.

  “Went to the cabin?” I asked him, staring down at the slice of pizza. Keane had recently inherited half of the land his grandparents owned just on the edge of town, closer to the forest.

  “Yep. Asa and I mapped out the boundaries mostly. He tried to claim fifty-five percent off the shoreline for himself, but the dude hasn’t fished since he still crapped his pants, so I had to duel him for equal share.”

  I laughed despite the mood I was in. Keane was the most jovial, fun-loving person I knew, and though I hadn’t really been in the mood for company, him being here was already cheering me up.

  “Where are the Adorables?” he asked after taking half of a slice in one bite.

  The Adorables was a nickname he’d given my twin sisters growing up. It was mostly meant as sarcastic, because as kids they’d been tiny terrors—like a cat that looked you in the eyes as it knocked over a full glass of water. He treated them kindly and now that they were old enough, he called them the Adorables right to their face when he wanted to tease them. “They’re at their friend’s house for the night. Probably all weekend.”

  “Poor you,” he said and took a long pull from his soda. “So, tell me why you’re moping all by yourself at our favorite little pizzeria?”

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide my worries from him, but until I knew what was going on with Violet, I could at least give him a little lie. “My aunt left today.”

  “Oh, right. How’d that go? Did she cry all over you at security?”

  “Not too bad,” I said. “It’s just a lot, with the store and everything.”

  “‘Everything’ meaning The Adorables, yes?” He took another healthy bite of his pizza, finishing his first slice. “Well, I’ve got nothing going on. You know I can help if they need it. Like a ride or something.” He shook his head, sending his overly long hair into a mess that suited him. One curl rested right over his left eye and I reached forward to move it away from his face.

  “I know,” I said with a squeeze on his free hand. “I appreciate it. And I will take you up on it.” I wanted to tell him Violet was coming into town, but since I knew that would only lead to more questions I couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to answer, I rubbed my lips together.

  “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

  “Yep,” I said, crossing my fingers under the table. “How’s Asa doing?” His brother had come back from his last deployment with a traumatic brain injury and I knew from conversations with Keane that it was a delicate situation getting him acclimated to civilian life again, with an injury that affected him every day.

  “He’s good,” he replied, but his words didn’t echo in his eyes. I didn’t want to push him, not since he wasn’t pushing me. “You gonna eat that?”

  I picked at the crust. “Yeah.” But I didn’t pick up the slice, just picked at the darker spots along the crust’s edge.

  “Oh, I get it. No one has shown you how to eat pizza. Here.” He slid out his side of the booth and scooted in next to me.

  “Which is your dominant hand?” he asked me, holding both of them up limply like I was a marionette. “This one?” he asked, even though he knew. “K. Take your thumb and hold this side of the crust and use your other fingers to grab the opposite end of the crust. Now,” he said, curling his fingers around mine and applying pressure, “fold it in half, hot-dog style. You remember hot-dog style folding, right? Like in kindergarten. We are not doing hamburger style—that would be sacrilegious.”

  I rolled my eyes at him as he folded it in half and lifted it to my face.

  “Okay,” he said, his lips close to my ear. “The pointy end goes into your mouth.”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

  “What’s so funny?” he feigned innocence.

  “Come on.” I gave him a look as the pizza hovered in front of my face. “‘The pointy end goes into your mouth,’ really?”

  “What are you trying to say?” Then, with a dramatic shake of his head he said in a stage whisper, “Are you being perverted right now? Why, Navy Jane, I never knew you possessed such a filthy mind.”

  “Just give me the stupid bite of pizza,” I said with a laugh, attempting to bring it closer but he was infinitely stronger than me and halted my attempts.

  “Ex-squeeze me. ‘Stupid pizza’? Those do not belong in the same sentence. Ever.”

  “You’re right,” I said with mock solemnity. “Can I please have a bite of pizza, sir?”

  He shuddered next to me. “Oh, the things you do to me when you call me ‘sir’.”

  “God,” I said, shoving him with my shoulder and taking the bite anyway. “You’re terrible.”

  “You’re the one thinking about pointy ends entering your mouth,” he said and yanked his plate across the table. “Rhonda!” he called across the restaurant, earning a half dozen startled heads swiveling toward us. “You did a good job,” he said emphatically, holding up his pizza like it was a flag he was proud to wave.

  Rhonda’s ruddy cheeks darkened a deeper red and she waved him off with a laugh. She was used to Keane’s antics—and so was I—but it still caught you off guard when you weren’t expecting it.

  “So,” I said, as I swallowed my bite. “How was your day with Asa, besides fighting over the shoreline?”

  “Good,” he said. “He got me in the mud though.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah, I was being a smartass because I’m bigger than him now, so he put my ass in its place.” He grinned like he was proud of being knocked down. Knowing Keane’s admiration of his brother growing up, I wasn’t surprised. He always thought of him as a hero, even when Asa teased him or made him grow up quick so he could fight back when Asa pinned him.

  “I bet a few months out in the sunshine, building stuff between your cabin and his will make him a tough match for you.”

  Keane swallowed his next bite after chewing it thoughtfully. “Probably. I’ll need to step up my gym game.”

  “What gym game?”

  He tapped me on the forehead. “Exactly.”

  I swatted his hand away. “You used to do that all the time when we were kids,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, except then my fingers were coated in pencil lead or some other substance.”

  I paused. “What? You did it on purpose?”

  He let out a roaring laugh. “Yeah, you always had my fingerprint on your face somewhere, unbeknownst to you.”

  “How did I never notice?” In memory, I rubbed my forehead but there wasn’t anything there.

  “You usually rubbed it off before anyone noticed, but those years you had bangs covered them up pretty well when I managed to land one on your forehead.”

  “Oh, the bangs.” I cringed, remembering the razor straight bangs that were constantly in my eyes. “That phase lasted too long for comfort.”

  “Yeah, pretty much all through the teenage years.”

  “Not all of them,” I said defensively. “I think when I was fifteen, I finally let them grow out.”

  “That’s when you and Hollis started packing the makeup on your faces.”

  “Oh,” I said, cringing again. Keane was my best friend, but Hollis was my best girl friend. That’s what happens when your friends have seen you through some really horrible decisions. Hollis and I shared an apartment, but we no longer shared terrible makeup taste. “You’re just bringing up all my best hits.”

  “I’m sure I’ve got plenty more of my own.”

  “Like when you dyed your hair yellow-blonde and got a perm the same week?”

/>   “Okay, excuse me. That was the style.”

  “No, that was the style when Justin Timberlake did it.”

  I leaned back to see him better. I much preferred the brown he sported now.

  “Your hair was already curly; I don’t know why you permed it.”

  He shifted his shoulders as if he was put-out. “Uh, duh, because ramen noodle hair was all the rage.” His Valley Girl impersonation needed work.

  “In the early two-thousands, maybe. That’s when Justin had it. You were only a decade or so late to the trend.”

  “Doesn’t that make me retro?”

  A giggle gurgled in my throat. “No.” I never realized how much I needed Keane as a distraction until he practically forced his presence upon me.

  “But hey, that hair is what made you have a crush on me, isn’t it?”

  Now my cheeks turned as red as Rhonda’s had. “What?” I squeaked. I practically downed half my drink. “I don’t think so…”

  Please don’t bring this up.

  Please, please don’t bring this up.

  Because he was sitting beside me, he couldn’t read my face as well as usual, so he most definitely brought it up.

  “Oh, yeah, I remember.” Keane’s tone was teasing because my crush had been practically a lifetime ago—at least it felt that way. “When you admitted it to me. Was that eighth grade?”

  Ninth. But I wasn’t going to confirm it for him. I didn’t really want to travel this particular route in our trip down memory lane. “Hm. I’m not sure. But remember, you told me you had a crush on me first.” I hoped that’d throw him off course.

  “Heck yeah, I did. But then you were so nice to me that a friendship won out.”

  I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to push it.

  But I wasn’t so lucky. “No. I remember. Because it was homecoming. So that had to have been high school. Maybe tenth grade?”