The Cheat Sheet: A Romantic Comedy

We spend hours in our own world. Our love story tangible. Our hopes bared. Our souls light. Our fears set aside for this brief moment in time where nothing can touch us. In this place—in those arms—I am safe and free. I open my arms and dance in the rain. I twirl in the current. I lie back in the meadow as dark eyes sparkle above me.

Everything I want is right here in my arms. Drooling.

I look down at my own feet, propped up on a folded towel so my black and silver toenails can dry. Yeah, we came to a nail salon today because after Bree painted our nails for the first playoff game and we won, we got pretty superstitious about it. As long as we continue winning, we’ll continue painting.

Well, let’s call it, folks. Bree Camden’s time of death: 10:30 PM. Died of humiliation overdose

“Do you—do you want me to kiss you now?” I HATE how nervous I feel right now. Don’t let your voice quiver like a damn fool.

“No! Absolutely not!” She pauses, looks out the window for a few seconds, and then pivots her gaze back to me. “Well, maybe. Actually, yes.” Another pause with a definitive headshake. “Wait, no. It’s better to only kiss in public so we don’t feel like it’s real.”

“It will be real.”

She glares at me. “No. It. Won’t.”

“My very real lips will be on your very real lips, Bree. That’s the very definition of real. It will not be in our heads

Looking at her over my shoulder, I smile and wink. “You should be.”

She’s frozen for a second and I think, Derek, you magnificent devil, it worked. But then her eyes widen and she bursts out laughing. “Did you just WINK at me?!”

Okay, so apparently winking goes into the non-sexy category for Bree. She roasts me all the way out the door, and I will murder Derek at practice tomorrow

My heart is in my throat. No, it’s in my hands. I’m holding it out here for her to take

In the words of Mrs. Bennet, she has no sympathy for my poor nerves

He’s mine! Uh, wait, what? No.

He’s fake mine.

Wh-what’s happening right now?”

“Just relax. Pretend you like me.” Oh the irony.