Love? Maybe. (20 page)

I
t’s Jillian’s idea for all of us to have dinner together. Her vision was a triple date at Wink or some other fancy restaurant, but I convinced her that maybe a picnic might be more fun. We decided to have the least romantic, least Valentine’s Day food possible. Anything red or pink or heart-shaped we ruled off-limits.

Jillian, Claire, and I agree to take care of the food and we assign the guys to take care of the entertainment. Too bad their idea of entertainment is throwing Frisbees for Charlie’s dog to fetch. Of course none of us took into account that it was still technically winter. I stamp my feet to try to bring some circulation back into them. My boots leave imprints in the snow. “I still can’t believe it actually snowed.” I say.

Jillian rolls her eyes. “This isn’t exactly snow.” She kicks at the ground, exposing the yellow grass beneath.

It’s Claire’s turn to roll her eyes. “If we have to listen to your stories of blizzards and ice storms in New York one more time—”

“Sorry,” Jillian says. She kicks at the snow again. “Even though it’s about the wimpiest snowstorm I’ve ever seen, it’s still pretty cool.” We decided against canceling the picnic, figuring it sort of fit into the whole misfit Valentine’s theme we had going. “Our snowman is pretty sad though.” The three of us laugh at the knee-high snowman, his head threatening to roll off his shoulders at any minute. A snowball whizzes past us, hitting the tree just behind Claire.

“Oh it’s on,” Jillian says. She bends and packs a snowball in her gloved hands and sends it flying back toward Jeremy. Her aim is better than his. The snowball hits his shoulder before breaking apart. I figure it’s enough to start Snowball War II, but Jeremy just grins at her.

I sit on the edge of the picnic table bench, trying to keep as little of me in contact with the cold metal as I can. I watch as Charlie launches another Frisbee in the air and Duncan, the world’s ugliest and awesomest dog, tears after it. “Do you know what’s funny?” I ask.

“What?” Claire asks, sitting down beside me.

I look over at her. Her cell phone isn’t in sight. “Those three actually ate the chocolates we made.”

“You’re right,” Jillian says, sitting down on the other side of Claire. “Wait, what are you saying?”

I laugh at the intensity of her voice. “What I’m not saying is that the potion worked.”

“Good thing,” Claire says. I smirk over at her. She’s right. If the potion had worked, there’s a good chance we’d be having a picnic with Stuart and Ben and some random guy Jillian was crushing on.

“Oh my goodness,” Jillian says, jumping to her feet.

“What?” I ask. Jillian just shakes her head and hurries off toward the parking lot. I look over at Claire, but she just shrugs. I see a furry blur out of the corner of my eye. I brace myself for impact just in time to keep Duncan from knocking me to the ground. I scratch his ears, smiling at his goofy face. He gives me one huge lick then flops on the snow at my feet.

“Ew,” I say, swiping at my slobbery cheek with my hand. I look down at Duncan. “No offense,” I say. In response, he wags his tail harder. Charlie sits down beside me, so close our shoulders are touching, and Alex and Jeremy fall on what’s left of the pretzels.

“Where did Jillian go?” Jeremy asks. Claire makes big eyes at him and shakes her head. Suspicious. I look over toward the parking lot and see Jillian walking toward us, carrying a cake with candles poking out of its top. She walks slowly to keep the flames from going out. Jeremy starts and soon everyone else is singing “Happy Birthday” to me. Very loud and very off-key. Jillian reaches us and holds the cake in front of me.

“Make a wish,” Charlie says. I glance over at him before closing my eyes. I hear the clink of the tags on Duncan’s collar, then feel a paw on my leg. My eyes fly open just in time to see Duncan take a huge bite out of the cake. “Duncan! No!” Charlie says, but it’s too late. I laugh at the guilty look on Duncan’s face as he tries to lick the blob of yellow frosting off his nose.

While the cake is a little mangled, the candles are still all in place and actually still lit. I try to think of a wish. Just two weeks ago, I probably could have listed a dozen things I wanted, but now I can’t think of a single thing to wish for. I close my eyes again, take a deep breath, and blow out the candles.

To Kathy Dawson and Claire Evans: thank you for believing in me, challenging me, and giving me hard truths and generosity in equal measure. To my agent, Peter Steinberg, thank you for following your instinct and for your general awesomeness. Thank you to everyone else at Dial Books for taking me in and being so supportive. Thank you to my nieces, Heather, Natalie, Nicole, and Holly, for inspiring me to write books that I hope you will love. Thank you to my son, Harrison, and my nephews, Ryan and Colin, for your patience with all the “yucky romance.” Thank you to my mom and my sister, Terry. I have no idea why you love me as much as you do. Thank you to Bob and Patrick and Thomas and Alisa for believing in me.