Amelia was friendly to me all through the rest of the night, chatting amiably with Lydia and I, telling stories, and just generally being sweet. Still, a moment like the one from before never happened. She seemed more guarded, now, and less inclined to make a move. I cursed myself a thousand times for wasting that opportunity.

She was still sitting beside me, close enough to touch. I mentally debated whether to just touch her face and go for a kiss, but decided against it, each time. Amelia herself had said she regretted kissing Ceres. I didn’t want to regret kissing her too. What if she rejected me? Besides, I can’t just go and do it without asking, it’s not right.

I kept waiting for the mood to be right, so that I could ask Amelia for a kiss, but it never was. There was always someone else in the conversation. That, or the topic wasn’t anything even remotely romantic enough to set a mood. The party ended with me still hoping something would happen, and it was only when Amelia told me goodbye that I realized what I wished for would not come to be.

I went back home with Lydia and her boyfriend, feeling bleak.

“You seem down,” Lydia asked, as we rode together in the train. “Did something happen at the party?”

I shook my head. Nothing had happened, and that was precisely the problem. But I couldn’t just tell her that.

Lydia sighed. “Look, you have to stop thinking about that guy. You need to let go. He hurt you, he’s a jerk, and you’re much better off without him. Trust me.”

I was a little surprised at that declaration. Obviously, Lydia had misunderstood the entire situation. I decided to play along, because I didn’t feel like explaining what I was feeling.

“Oh, yeah, yeah... Of course. I know that. You’re right, Lydia.”

She smiled. “I’m always right,” said the girl, cocky.

I said my goodbyes a while later, and walked up to my apartment, still thinking about the events of that night. I got home, hung up my coat and purse, and flopped on the bed, too exhausted to think about doing anything else.

I woke up the next day with my cellphone ringing. I felt for it on the bed, and looked at the message on the screen. It was a call from Lydia. I sighed, and put her on speaker.

“All right, I’m up. What is it, Lydia? Do you need a ride to uni today?”

I heard Lydia laugh. “It’s Sunday, Hannah, there’s no classes. And it’s almost eleven already, you overslept.”

I groaned. “We got home late last night, Ly. Didn’t you get any sleep?”

“Nope,” said the girl, happily. I groaned again, realizing what I’d done.

“Gee, thanks, Lydia, I was just dying for another insight in your sex life.”

“Get your ass off the bed, Hannah. I’m on the street right now, I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, surprised. “Why?”

Lydia giggled. “What do you mean, ‘why’? Isn’t it obvious? You’re free, Hannah, it’s cause for celebration. Get the popcorn ready, I have four years worth of movies that I want to watch with you.”

I sighed. Deep inside, though, I was happy. Lydia was right, I had spent far too long letting the goddamn ex dictate how I spent every single minute of my life. It was about time to go back to doing fun stuff with my friends.

I got up and took a quick shower, deciding to wear some casual clothes which were comfortable enough to stay at home in, but not too embarrassing to wear outside in case an earthquake struck and I had to leave the place in a hurry. As it happens, a lot of my trivial, day-to-day decisions were based on hypothetical scenarios involving massive catastrophes.

As I set about preparing things, and cleaning my mess, my thoughts kept jumping back to Amelia and the party. I found myself sighing rather often, wishing things had gone different. And yet, every memory I had of Amelia smiling immediately brought a smile to my own lips as well. That girl was dazzling.

Lydia arrived a while later, with a paper bag full of chocolate and other kinds of candy. I stared into the bag, and giggled. It was exactly how we used to do things, back when we were fifteen.

“Ly, aren’t we a little old for this stuff?”

Lydia scoffed. “You can never be too old for gummy bears, my dear Hannah.”

I had to admit that she had a fair point.

“All right, I’ll go get the popcorn, so you can pick the movie.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Lydia, jumping on the couch.

I went to the kitchen and put the popcorn bag into the microwave, then got us glasses and juice. When I came back to the living room, I found out Lydia had chosen a rather familiar romcom from the late 90s.

“When you said ‘four years worth of movies’, Ly, I was kinda expecting something we hadn’t watched together a dozen times already,” I told her, reproachfully.

Lydia shushed me. “But you love this one! I thought we could do just like the old times. Or would you rather watch Notting Hill instead?”

“Let’s just go with this one,” I said, picking up the remote and pressing play. The microwave beeped, letting me know that our popcorn was ready, and I was very glad for the save.

“So, what did you think of the party yesterday?” Lydia asked me, as I returned from the kitchen with the bowl of popcorn. “Pretty fun, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, sheepishly. “Yeah, it was.”

“And Janis’ friends... they’re great, aren’t they?”

I nodded again.

“Soooo...”

I knew what Lydia was doing. She had this habit of beating around the bush when she wanted to ask me about a touchy subject. But I sort of expected this touchy subject to be something involving Michael. I wasn’t at all prepared for what she said then.

“And you liked meeting Amelia, right? I mean, you were all smiles.”

I choked on the popcorn. “Lydia!” I exclaimed, while coughing. She patted my back, as if that could help. I drank some juice, and took a few deep breaths, recomposing myself.

“Whoa, take it easy, girl,” said Lydia. “I didn’t think you’d get this shaken just from hearing her name.”

“I wasn’t,” I argued. “It’s just the popcorn.”

Lydia smirked. “She’s real pretty, isn’t she?”

I shrugged, and pretended to be paying close attention to the action on the screen. But I wasn’t, obviously. I’d seen that movie way too many times, I knew exactly what was about to happen next. “What are you getting at?” I asked, annoyed.

“Oh, come on, Hannah...” she laid her head on my shoulder, and fed me a gummy bear, which I begrudgingly accepted (because whoever says no to gummy bears, right?) “You’re single, she’s single, you spent the entire night fawning over her...” I elbowed Lydia, annoyed. She simply giggled, and kept chewing gummy bears. “I’m just saying, we both know where this is going. And I’m happy for you, Hannah. Really.”

“Since when do I even like girls?” I asked. It was a silly question. I obviously liked girls, or I wouldn’t have wanted Amelia to kiss me, the previous night. And I’ve had the feeling I was like that for a while, but it was never something I mentioned to anyone else, not even Michael.

“Since seventh grade,” said Lydia, deadpan.

I pulled back, astounded. “What?!”

“Okay, so, remember our class rep for seventh grade? Rafaela Dias?

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, what about her?”

“You had the hots for her,” said Lydia. “Everyone in class knew.”

For a moment, hearing that accusation left me at a loss for words.

“I... I didn’t, Ly. I just admired her, really.”

Lydia stared at me with a mix of amusement and pity. “Hannah, you wrote her a poem,” I winced, remembering that. It sounded worse than it actually was.

“It wasn’t a love poem... It, it was just one of my ramblings about life and school and... expectations,” I explained. “I used to dabble in poetry, remember? It wasn’t unusual for me to write a poem.”

“You also gave her chocolates on her birthday,” Lydia recalled.

“I gave you chocolates on your birthday too!” I retorted.

Lydia scoffed. “Well, yeah, but we were friends. Rafa Dias barely talked to you, Hannah.”

I pursed my lips. A chocolate and a poem. I knew what it sounded like.

“That’s not all,” said Lydia. “You volunteered to take her to the nurse’s office when she almost passed out during PE one day. And then you stayed there with her all day.”

“Oh, come on!” I protested. “That’s just basic human decency, Ly!”

“You didn’t have to do it, though. Rafa Dias had friends, Hannah, anyone else could have gone. And you missed classes because you were waiting for her to get better. Which is pointless, really, because it’s not like there was anything you could do to help. You should have just come back to class, it would have been a lot less suspicious if you had.”

I furrowed my brow. “Suspicious?”

“People were starting to spread rumors, you know. I’m surprised you never heard anything. But I think that it was about then that we went into summer break, and then Rafaela Dias transferred to another school, and you met Michael. You had such a huge crush on him that it stopped making sense for people to say you were a lesbian. I guess most of those girls never even considered that bisexuals existed.”

I sighed, and leaned back on the couch. Yep, I remembered that part. I had this stupid crush on Michael all the way from the beginning of eight grade to the end of my first year of high school, when he asked me out. Back then, he didn’t seem to give me the time of day.

We continued watching the movie, with Lydia’s head on my shoulder, alternately eating popcorn and gummy bears. Tom Hanks’ character was telling his friend Kevin how much he loved his girlfriend, Patricia, but he was obviously just fooling himself.

I sighed, seeing myself a little in Tom Hanks’ acting. I had been fooling myself too, saying that I was madly in love with Michael even though any such feelings had died a long time ago. And then I went and fell for someone else. I wanted Tom Hanks to pop out of the TV, give me a high-five, and welcome me to the “Fooling Yourself Club”. And then I wanted dial-up internet, AOL, and Amelia’s e-mail address, so that I could send her poetic and insightful messages, just like the characters in the movie.

Of course, this being the early 2020s, not late 1990s, it would make a lot more sense to just find her profile on social networks, and take it from there. Is that creepy? The last thing I wanted would be for her to think I’m creepy.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Lydia asked me.

“I’ve always loved that bookstore,” I said, absentmindedly, staring at the cute bookstore on the screen. “And you’re right about me being bisexual.”

Lydia jumped on the couch, laughing. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!!!” she repeated, before wrapping her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you, Hannah... Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get to hear you admit it to yourself.”

I smiled, grateful for her instant acceptance. “But I really didn’t have a crush on Rafaela Dias or anything, okay?”

Lydia chortled. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” She bit the head off a gummy bear, then ate the body of another, and connected them to make a gummy Frankenstein monster, like we used to, as children.

“I mean it,” I retorted. “It really was just admiration. I wanted to be her friend, and that’s all.”

“Sure, Hannah. And what about Amelia? Do you also only want to be her friend?”

I felt my face flush hot. “I... may have a tiny crush on Amelia, actually.”

Lydia laughed loudly. “Oh, you don’t say?” she mocked. “Seriously, Hannah, you were coming on to her hard. I was waiting for the moment when you’d pin her to the floor right in the middle of the living room, with everyone watching.”

I covered my face with both hands.

“I can’t believe I acted like that,” I said, regretful. “Do you think she noticed it?”

Lydia snorted. “Everyone noticed it. Of course she did, too.”

I felt even more embarrassed, hearing that from my friend. “Please kill me now.”

“I do wonder, though,” said Lydia. By then we were sitting on the couch facing each other. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan were left completely ignored. “She seemed really into you too, at first. Did she never make a pass at you, last night? Not even casual flirting?”

I hesitated, feeling the pent-up regret bubbling to the surface again. “She... may have,” I admitted. I told Lydia the story of that moment I challenged her about kissing me, and of the way I totally blew it, later.

Lydia sat back against the cushions, wide-eyed. “Whoa...”

“I know, right,” I told her, remorseful. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” said Lydia, kindly. “But maybe you shouldn’t have called it a ‘joke’. You sent her the wrong message. Best case? She’s holding back, because when you called it that you basically told her that you’re not into her. In that case, we can simply get you two to meet each other again, and then you make sure to express your feelings more clearly this time. It’s... salvageable.”

“What about the worst case?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Lydia winced. “Worst case... she’s hurt because you called kissing her a joke. She thinks you’re straight... aaaand maybe also a little prejudiced? And you put her off kissing you. I don’t know, I’m not an expert in gay stuff. You should call Janis, ask her what she thinks.”

I scoffed. “I can’t possibly call Janis about this, Hannah. I barely know her.”

“She doesn’t care about that,” my friend retorted. “She’d be willing to help, I’m sure. Know what? I know what would be better than calling her. I’ll ask her to go out with us for ice cream. Then you ask her yourself.”

“Wait, what?” I hesitated. “Lydia, I’m not sure about this.”

“Trust me, Hannah, it will be fine.”