“What do you think being in love feels like?”
“What?” I look down at where Abby’s head is resting in my lap. Flipping through another one of her romance novels, she doesn’t even look up. It was another one of those questions, the kind she asks when her life isn’t as perfect as the heroines she reads about.
Normally, I ignore them or tease her. Maybe it was the warmth of the sun beaming down on us. The first warm day of the year has everyone spread out on the grassy lawn on campus. Or the wistful sigh that preceded the question. Abby, who has never kept a boyfriend longer than a month, puts the hopeless in ‘hopeless romantic.’ Or maybe it was how her freshly dyed hair felt between my fingers. It's red now, but it was blue before that, then purple, and then pink. And, when June rolls around, she'll dye it rainbow as she has every year since I came out to her on the night of our junior prom.
Either way, I scrunch my lips to the side in thought, I felt like answering.
“Being in love…” I begin, my heart hammering in my chest. I hope she can’t hear it from where she lays, “feels like breathing.”
Her hands still on the pages and, for a moment, I stop breathing. Abby sits up and spins to face me with an incredulous look, “Julia Quinn!” I raise my eyebrows at her use of my full name, praying that I come off amused and not like I’m dying from the nerves.
“Are you in love?” Abby squeals.
I chuckle, “What makes you say that?”
Here it is, I panic, it's going to come out. She'll know.
Abby rolls her eyes and puts on a serious look. She tilts her head up to the sky and sighs dramatically. It is not until she begins speaking in a fake brooding voice that I realize she's mocking me, “Being in love feels like breathing.”
She opens one eye to peek over at me. Laughing, I push her shoulder slightly, “Whatever. You asked.”
“Yeah,” She starts in a duh tone, “I also asked if you'd ever tried edible underwear yesterday and I got no response.”
I throw her a long look, but my nerves calm down all the same, I'm not ready for her to know. I can’t lose her.
Abby gasps and grabs my arm with both hands. Scooting closer, she tries to whisper, “Is it that girl in your Bio Lab? Do you remember when you forgot your textbook and I had to bring it? That girl who was sitting next to you, I bet she likes you too. I swear she was glaring daggers at me when I came in!”
I did remember that day. I remember how panicked I was when I realized I had forgotten my textbook that, even though I had been confident in my knowledge of the unit, was required. I remember the guilt and relief when Abby canceled her plans just to bring it to me. I remember Abby the most. Her yellow sundress that she bought just for that day, V-shaped neckline, the tight bodice, the way the skirt flared out at her hips and ended mid-thigh. She had sandals on with her toes painted white and her nails orange. More than anything I remember the locket she was wearing.
The little heart shape resting on her chest, a JQ engraved on the front. It was mine, my mom gave it to me for my 21st birthday. Abby must’ve grabbed it off of my desk that morning.
“I just saw it sitting there,” she says nervously, following my gaze. She thinks I'm mad. “And it matches so well with the dress and… I should've asked though.”
I look back up to her eyes and shake my head, “It’s alright, it does match your outfit.”
In truth, I couldn't care less whether it matched or that she’d taken it. I would have given her anything if she asked, just to see her smile. All I could think about was how it looked on her, how my initials fit so perfectly sitting on her chest. How that day, and every other day she borrowed my necklace, I could pretend that it was hers, that she was mine.
“Uhh, Earth to Julia,” Abby waves her hand back and forth in front of my face. I blink and I’m back on the grass in front of the campus library with an expectant Abby in front of me.
“I don't remember that day,” I lie.
“Then who is it?” Abby scoffs, moving her hand back and forth to shield her eyes from the sun. I reach up for the sunglasses resting on her head and slide them on her nose. She forgot about them again. Bright and cheery Abby always seemed to forget about herself around others. It’s okay, though, I always remember for her.
“There's no one,” I shrug, “I just heard my mom say something like that one time.”
She looks like she doesn’t believe me at first, but eventually, she nods to herself. I wonder what she was thinking about, what conclusion she came to so quickly that she dropped the topic. Satisfied, Abby nods and lays her head back down in my lap, and picks up her book.
“Yeah, okay,” she grins up at me, “There's no way you wouldn’t tell me if you had a crush. Or if you didn’t, that I wouldn’t be able to tell if my bestie liked one, besides, you’re a bad liar.”
I begin stroking her hair with a small smile, “The worst.”
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