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I pull my phone from my purse and check the connection speed, a huge smile spreading across my face. I open the reading app and scroll through the pictures until I find it: a big, blue, muscled hunk o’ lovin’ with an enraptured wavy-haired redhead in his grasp.

Download.

Page 1.

Welcome to my happy place.

I am a self-professed romance-genre enthusiast... one might even say expert. I read on average about twenty or so books a month. And though I might not know a lot about romance in real life, I can tell you everything there is to know about it on these pages.

If the heroine in this book can put up with the hardships of an unknown planet with guts and determination and eventually find love with a ginormous blue alien, then I can, at the very least, survive my disastrous senior prom.

My time to be the main character will come.

For now, I’m building character. I’m figuring out my wound. I’m ripe to be misunderstood and then finally seen by the man of my dreams. And after experiencing a heartbreaking third-act breakup, we’ll find our way back to each other. This is just another step toward my own eventual Happily Ever After. I’m certain of it.

I swipe my phone to the next page and continue toread. Just one chapter. Maybe two.

I can hide from this awkward situation like I always do... behind my book.

“Oh my god, Irene! Are you reading? In a limo? On prom night?”

I raise my eyes to see Jamie, dress hiked up to her waist, still straddling her date, but now with a look of total disbelief on her face. Her lipstick is smeared and her hair’s disheveled. I open my mouth to answer her, but it’s kind of obvious that yes, I am reading, in a limo, on prom night. And whereas this behavior seems utterly ridiculous to her, it’s totally fine in my eyes.

But that’s always been the issue. Most people in my life don’t get my passion for reading, and they definitely don’t respect my right to do it wherever and whenever I want.

“Irene is one of those book people,” Jamie tells her partner, whose glassed-over look and impossible-to-miss hard-on make it clear he has no idea what she’s talking about and would rather get back to making out.

“Figures. Total nerd,” Liam says, his tone dripping with judgment.

“Well, to clarify, I’m a book reviewer,” I say. “You know... online?”

“God,Catcher in the Ryechanged my life,” says the valedictorian. Sounds like something a valedictorian would say.

“Well, I read and review mostly romance novels. Tropesand HEAs. It’s the highest-selling genre,” I explain.

Silence.

“I have over a million followers,” I add.

I don’t want to come across as too arrogant about it, but I felt it needed some more explanation. When I hit a million followers, I finally admitted to myself that this was a big thing and I should be proud of it. Plus, I’mthis closeto landing one of the largest brand sponsorship deals of any online book influencer... ever.

Liam spits out a laugh like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “So, you mean smut,” he says, barely able to contain himself, the mocking in his voice clear as day.

Hello, Neanderthal.

“Porn for chicks,” the guy next to me adds.

And we’ve got a misogynist here, too.

“Oh, I thought you meant you were arealreader,” the valedictorian tacks on.

Seems the literary snob didn’t want to be left out.

Weren’t all these people busy getting busy just a second ago? Why are they all suddenly so interested in judging me?

“It’s all she thinks or talks about,” my cousin adds.

It’s not all I think about. I also save space in my head for thoughts about the downfall of the US political system, the catastrophic effects of climate change, and the entirety of Taylor Swift’s dating history and its correlation to her music catalog.