Elise Bryant - One True Loves

My life is not a romance novel.

Thats what Im trying to explain to my best friend, Tessa, as shes going all heart-eyed and swoony over my summer vacation plans. But the girl is having none of it.

Lenore, you dont understand, she says, throwing herself on her bed like its a goddamn fainting couch. I literally begged my parents for this scenario for years. Years! Or it was at least in the top five.

I arch my eyebrow at her in the mirror as I add another layer of mascara. I want my eyelashes to be thick and spidery, like Diana Rosss in the seventies. Top five? That sounds very official. Was it, like, written down?

Yes, in fact, but I can recite it from memory. She nods her head all serious and straightens her spine, oblivious that Im messing with her. Number oneshe starts pressing a pink-manicured finger into her palmsummer camp thats conveniently popular with boy band members just trying to live a normal life. Number two, small town thats inexplicably having a monthlong Christmas festival. Number three

I throw my hands up. Okay, I got it, sis. You really dont have to continue

Number three, she cuts me off, narrowing her big brown eyes at me. European vacation. And on a cruise ship too! The Mediterranean! The summer after graduation! Its like youve hit the romance jackpot! Except instead of money pouring out of the slot machine, its hearts and cute boys and sunshine and gelato and romantic historic buildings, and, I dont know, maybe even condoms.

A mischievous smile spreads across her face, and I think back to the Tessa I first met last yearmousy and anxious and likely to fall into a conniption if anyone even spoke the word condom in her presence. I know this is positive growth or whatever, but man, she can be irritating.

I turn around, rolling my eyes at her. Youve conveniently left out my parents and my sister and my brother, who, oh yeah, Im sharing a tiny little room with. Aint no condoms happening anywhere near me this summer.

Not with that attitude, she snorts. She holds her hands out wide, and her eyes go all unfocused, like my grandma Lenore (yes, we have the same name) when shes talking about what she got on a T.J. Maxx run. I can see it now. Youre in a floppy striped hat and that red high-waisted bathing suit you bought at Target last week

How do you remember that? You werent even with

Lying outstretched on the pool deck, your skin glowing in the sun. And a handsome stranger with a, like, ten-pack walks by, and is mesmerized by your beauty, and notices youre having trouble reaching the very middle of your back with your sunscreen... well, maybe not sunscreen because we dont wear that

Hold up, I say, and shes jerked out of her heart-eyed daze. What you mean, we dont wear that?

I mean, we dont need to wear sunscreen. You knowshe waves vaguelymelanin.

I blink at her, but no Im just fucking with you smile appears. This girl is for real. Of course we need to wear sunscreen! Tessa, are you really out here just walking around in the sun unprotected?

She shrugs and heads for her bookshelf. Anyway, thats not important right now.

Uh, skin cancer is important.

This is a love emergency, Lenore! Love is important. Honestly, you need to take this seriously, she scoffs, and now I dont know if shes messing with me. Love emergency? Maam, Im going on a family vacation.

We really dont need to be doing this right now, I say, but shes ignoring me, hands on her hips as she stands in front of her huge bookshelf with the spines arranged in a perfect rainbow. Research, she mutters to herself, tapping her chin. She needs to do research.

I shake my head and return my attention to the mirror, putting on a coat of bright coral lipstick that pops against my skin. Mom braided my locs into an intricate updo earlier today, and I tuck a few wayward strands in.

This is how Tessa is. Well, its a little extra, even for her. Probably just nerves for tonight. And lord knows Ive got them too. Jay still hasnt texted. Maybe I should check one more time. Tessas too busy to notice and try to stop me, after all...

A loud crash stops me from grabbing my phone that I definitely should not check one more time. Tessa was, judging by the chaos of fallen books around her, standing on something to reach a book on the top shelf. That wouldnt be too difficult normally, except it is right now, considering shes wearing a fluffy, pale pink tulle ball gown. Because, oh yeah, back up: we are about to leave for prom. Which means we actually really, really dont need to be doing this right now.

Are you okay?! I jump up, gathering the skirt of my teal lace mermaid dress, and rush to where shes flat on her back, lost in her fluttery confection of an outfit. The only body part I can find is an arm outstretched in the air, holding tight to a paperback book.

Im fine! she insists, batting away fabric so I can see her face. Fine, fine! This is what I was looking for!

She smiles slowly, and then presents the book to me, cradling it like its some sort of holy text. Anna and the French Kiss. Its hot pink with a heart and a picture of the Eiffel Tower, i.e., something I wouldnt read if you paid me. Well, okay, maybe if you paid me. But it would have to be enough to buy a Pyer Moss dress straight off the runway or something, and I know thats not whats happening here.

I need you to read this before you leave, and thenshe chuckles with a knowing smirkand then, well, youll see.

I shake my head. Get out of here with that. You know I dont have time to read this. What with finals and grad night and graduation. And the kinda big thing happening in, uhI check my phone for the time, and also to see if Jay has texted (he hasnt)two hours! Here, let me fix your hair. The back is flat now. I gently put the book that Im no-way-in-hell reading on her nightstand and grab a pick to fluff up her curls. But her arms are crossed and I can feel the scheming energy just wafting off her. Plus, I add, hoping itll get her to let that book go, Im not even going to Paris.

She dives for her desk, almost losing a fistful of curls in the process, and picks up a piece of paper. Oh yeah, youre right. This says Marseille. But theyre both in France, so how different can they be?

Is that... ? I move in for a closer look. It is. Our cruises itinerary. I dont remember giving her that, but okay.

Its online, she says, reading my mind. Public knowledge. Anyone could find it. Not weird at all. Here, let me send you something... its gonna take me a minute to find it though.

Her eyebrows press together as she types and scrolls on her phone, and I use this break in the nonsense to gather the rest of my outfit: gold starburst earrings, metallic pumps with embroidered block heels, a beaded purse that I picked up at an estate sale last week, and my leather jacket draped over my arm in case it gets cold later. I take it all in through Tessas mirror, confirming what I already know: this look is guh-ood. Two syllables good. I hope it goes well with whatever Jay picked out. We didnt coordinate or anything because its not like that. Like, not at all. But it would be cool if it worked out anyway.

My phone pings, and I feel this irritating flutter in my chest. Is that him finally? But Tessa chases that stupid thought away.