Seeking Jake Ryan (Dear Molly Book 1) by M.F. Lorson & Jessica Bucher

Author:M.F. Lorson & Jessica Bucher [Lorson, M.F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-03T05:00:00+00:00

Sloane

The interview went well. Too well. Cassandra Moyer could have been an inanimate object for all I cared. I was taking notes on the way Gabe’s biceps looked when he leaned over and pressed his elbows to the table. He was adjusting the tripod, and also, little parts of my heart. This was bad. It was beginning to become obvious to me that I didn’t like working with him because he loved '80s movies. I liked working with him because I liked him.

Here is the thing though; it felt like I couldn’t stop liking him, even if I tried. So what was the point in trying? I kept my eyes on the road ahead of us as we drove to Gabe’s house. He didn’t say much on the drive which was okay by me. Our afternoon had been one golden moment after another. I didn’t want to ruin it by saying something stupid on the car ride home, but the second he was out of my vehicle, I pulled out of the drive and headed toward the cemetary. Mom wasn’t going to be able to offer any sage advice, but she was a damn good listener.

I didn’t have flowers like I had promised, but I grabbed the last remaining blueberry muffin off the plate in the backseat and placed it on top of her headstone.

“I did not bake these muffins,” I admitted. “They are store bought. Just like you taught me.” I laughed at my own joke. Mom was a terrible baker, always shoving a store pie into a glass dish and calling it good. I wished I could picture her laughing with me, but I wasn’t sure what that sounded like anymore.

It was harder and harder to remember things like that, the sound of her laugh, whether her smile started small and stretched wide or began bold, all of her teeth gleaming. Pictures do no justice for the dead, but memories fade, or maybe we just store them somewhere too far off to access.

I forced myself to stop thinking about her being gone and focus on what I had come for. To vent, or gush, I wasn’t sure which. I did my best to get her up to speed. I talked about class, about Becca, about Gabe and I laughing in the dugout, our inside jokes, even his european fashion faux pas. By the time I had finished spewing the details of my life pining after Real Live Jake Ryan, I was exhausted.

Everything was so much more complicated in life than in the movies. If I were Samantha, it would all work out. Becca would start as competition and end as a minor character, easy to discard, no feelings involved. Viewers would cheer for Gabe and I to end up together.

As it was, people were more likely to throw stones than offer applause. Becca was not a minor character, Becca was a human, with a heart and layers. Rooting for them to break up was mean-spirited and selfish.

“Tell me I’m not selfish,” I pleaded.

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