Love in Real Life by Seth King

Author:Seth King [King, Seth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

Teddy Martin

The night of the Key West proposition, my best friend Dooley called, probably because I’d been paying her dust lately. My BFF’s name was actually Caitlin, but nobody had called her that in years – she was simply her last name, Dooley, and that was that. She walked up to me on the playground in the fifth grade and announced that she loved Maroon 5, and asked me if I thought Adam Levine smelled good. We’d been best friends ever since. We were supposed to be buddy-reading this new thriller, but I’d grossly fallen behind on my duties. Thrillers were our thing: we’d first connected over our mutual love of these pulpy, campy books in sixth grade, and we’d never looked back.

“So how is Resentment?” I asked her.

“Aren’t you reading this one? I’ve been beating you over the head for weeks. You don’t understand – you have to read this book. You have to.”

I tried not to laugh. When Dooley wanted me to read something, she would chase me down in a way that rivaled a jealous, crazed ex-lover from a scary movie. But I got it. There was nothing worse than finishing a masterpiece and having nobody to talk about it with. It was like being in love in a dark room – you just had to talk about it. “Just like I had to read the last one? And the one before that?”

“This one is different.”

“I’m sure it is,” I laughed. “But I have to admit, I’m a bit behind.”

“Typical. So anyway. The husband is way too hot and smart and caring to be real, and the wife is so dumb I want to hit her. Her meltdown just started, and she’s about to fake her own death and then kidnap him for ransom. She’s getting addicted to pills, too. And then the-”

“So there’s something else,” I said.

“Um. What? Yeah?”

“I’ve been…seeing someone. Kind of. I guess. In real life. Not in a book.”

“Holy shit – who?”

I smiled and didn’t say anything.

“Oh my God! Do I know him?”

“No. But I’m – I’m a little obsessed. It’s bad.”

I could hear her pulling out her laptop already. “Okay, yeah, I’m gonna need to stalk him.”

“I can’t tell you his name.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird. And because you’ll stalk the hell out of him like a killer.”

She went silent, and soon I heard clicking of keys. “George Charles,” she said.

My mouth fell open. “How did you know that, you creep?”

“Because he’s tagged in a Bookworm Instagram post with you. It’s him, isn’t it?”

I stayed silent.

“Oh my God, I’m stalking him on Instagram now. He’s kinda hot! Those eyebrows are killer. He also seems like the only guy who cares about books as much as we do! You should get pregnant and make bookworm babies. Are you sure he’s gay?”

“Stop, freak. Yes, I’m sure. And yeah, he’s…amazing. Great, really. Cute and smart and fun and-”

“Okay, I’m worried,” she interrupted.

“Why?”

“Because I can hear in your voice that you like him, and every time you like someone, you turn and run.

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