The Cupids

WHILE PEOPLE kept prating about Miles Lomax and Regina Shreiner’s breakup at Freddie Chen’s birthday party last night, my attention was elsewhere―the soccer team’s usual spot. Actually, I only focused on Devin, who’s apparently listening to whatever Patch was telling him.

His blond hair styled in a quiff; eyes were as blue as the deepest part of Atlantic. And that charming smile showing off his dimples? I was enchanted like the first time. But before I could blink another eye, my brother, Patch, was already hollering Carver across the cafeteria. Just enough for everybody to focus on the team’s star forward, Trent Carver.

I braced myself for the incoming surge of tiny squeals from most underclassmen.

“C’mon, is he the only guy in this planet that they really have to squeal like dying raccoons? Seriously.” I snorted before facing now-wide-eyed Stella, as though I caught her stealing a jar of Nutella from a grocery store.

She seemed a bit fazed from what I just said. “I—I swear, I didn’t squeal.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“Oh... yeah, never mind,” Stella pushed her glasses up, her cheeks turning red while frantically taking a bite of her club sandwich as Patch, my idiotic kind of a brother, started drumming on their table with pet bottles for Trent’s approach.

I had to do a double take.

“Wait. You don’t say,” I gasped from the sudden realization. Make it a triple take. “Oh my goodness! You have a crush—”

“Peyton,” Stella warned. I raised an eyebrow when she averted my gaze. “So what if I have a crush on him? He’s the only guy I find likable here in school.”

"Likable?” This cracked me up that I even managed to earn a glare from Stella.

I couldn’t believe it! She had a crush on Trent Carver. Not that she couldn’t be infatuated with, well, real boys. But this just seemed so far-fetched right now. Because the last time I checked, she had zero tolerance for overrated boys like him.

He wasn’t Stella’s type.

“He’s a pretty cool guy, and he’s nice to everyone. What’s there not to like?” she said, her eyes wandering over the jock’s table.

She really liked him, huh. I wouldn’t exactly call him nice. He hadn’t done anything wrong to me but the mere fact that he would get himself involved in my brother’s shenanigans? Certainly not.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“No way,” Stella protested.

“Sure, bet he’s a keeper.” I said sarcastically.

Her hands instantly hovered over her face. “Shut up!”

“Aw,” I teased. “Getting coy now, are we?”

This was the reason why we hardly ever talked about boys, because the teasing part was pretty much accustomed for us BFFs since mentally dating fictional characters and hot celebrities had severely congested our hypothalamus.

To put it simply, we were self-proclaimed losers.

Besides, there was no way in hell I would tell anyone anything about the boy I liked. I was just not the type.

“Excuse me, but―”

“Since when have you been bitten by a lovebug?”

Stella sighed in defeat. “I don’t know. I mean, we’ve talked a few times since he’s basically my new lab partner.”

“So, you’re lab partners now?” I slumped on the backrest. “You never told me about this. And lab partners don’t talk a few.”

“Fine! We had small talks, alright. Mostly about lab work or soccer, or our neighbor’s dogs shitting on my mother’s lawn—many times, but just recently,” she stared at her milkshake. “I mean, we rarely have long conversations like this. And it doesn’t really matter, you know.”

“It does! I think you should spill the details, darling. What else have you guys talked about?”

“Random stuff, I guess.”

I wasn’t being fair, to be honest. I knew it was wrong to push my best friend for something she didn’t want to tell just yet, but it didn’t seem to be a big deal on her part―now that she was mindlessly smiling in front of me.

“Ha, would you look at that. She’s now in Cinderella-dreamland, thinking about Prince Charming.”

Stella shook her head like she just woke up from a daydream. “Correction, darling. I recall that you just asked.”

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Girl, just so you know, you’re blushing way too much. This is quite a sight!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are. Too.”

Stella started squirming at her seat, as she glanced from the rowdy jocks behind me, then back to me.

“Will you stop it?” she grunted.

“Stop what?”

“Let’s just forget about this, okay? And stop smiling like a Chesire cat, like, you’re planning something crazy!”

I did have something in mind. Maybe bleaching Stella’s jet-black curls blond for some reason, or dare her to kiss Trent in front of everyone. Not good enough, but hey, she would totally flip hearing these. But then, I wasn’t as crazy as my brother.

I laughed. “Am I?”

“Peyton,” Stella’s soft, green eyes under the rimmed glasses were narrowing directly at me. “Whatever it is you’re thinking; drop it.”

I could only smile. “What makes you think I would?”

Another sigh came off her lips. “Just... Devin and I won’t ever happen, okay?”

Wait. Huh?

What?

“Devin,” I said slowly. “I thought—you mean, McHoward?”

“McHoward.” Stella verified.

“Devin McHoward. As in soccer team goalie?” Not Trent Carver?

She looked bewildered, but the blush on her face dwelled. “Yeah, that one. Who else? Were we not talking about him?”

“Yes, we are... talking about McHoward, right,” I repeated absentmindedly.

“Jesus! You don’t have to sound like a broken record.”

I blinked, taking it all in. “I’m sorry. I just find it amusing, is all.”

Goodness! It wasn’t Trent Carver. It wasn’t Trent she was staring at. It wasn’t Trent she had a crush on. I had gotten it all wrong. Why on earth did I assume it was him?

Him.

I should blame that word for this self-humiliation. I let out an audible sigh, enough for Stella to look a bit concerned.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed, eyebrows quirking up. I glanced back at Devin, now starting a conversation with Trent. It slightly pained me. “So, you really like Devin, huh?”

She didn’t have to answer that. The words in my head were as clear as the Hollywood Sign. My best friend liked the same boy I liked. A part of me wished she liked Trent Carver instead, but I couldn’t be selfish for something so petty.

Stella rolled her eyes at me. “Yes, Peyton. I have this stupid crush on Devin McHoward. No big deal.”

“Cool.” It almost sounded like I choked on my saliva.

Stupid crush. No big deal. I had a stupid crush on Devin, too. So it’d better be no big deal. Maybe I should really drop my infatuation over him.

And Stella didn’t have to know that. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t the same stupid crush I had. It was more than that. For somebody like Stella, it was always more than that. Devin had all the potential to pass her standards.

“I kind of agree with the keeper thing, y’know. No pun intended,” Stella bit her lip.

“Right.” I couldn’t agree more. He was the team’s keeper after all. I had been incidentally oblivious with such puns. Damn it.

“And he’s really cute,” she added with a giggle. Then, something hit me.

Stella never giggled over a boy.