Page 41 of The Romance Rivalry
Twenty the chosen one Aiden
“Okay, okay, it’s the moment we’ve been waiting all semester for, get those score sheets out and let’s tally ’em up,” Charles
says.
“How many additional side bets do the two of you have on this?” Irene asks.
“Only a few,” Jeannette says.
“...dozen,” Charles finishes.
I grab cans of Coke out of my fridge and hand them out to each of my friends, giving the one Coke Zero to my girl. I make sure to have some at all times just for her. It’s her new obsession. I ripped one of my dormmates a new one for snagging my last can a few days ago. I don’t care if he takes any other shit from my room. But the Coke Zero is for Irene, and Irene only. Just like the sign now taped on my fridge door says.
I sit down next to her on the floor of my single dorm room where we’re all gathered to finally put an end to the dating challenge
we started months ago. Well, this whole thing started a lot earlier than that for me.
I don’t need to see the final scores. I already know I won. Hell, I knew I was gonna win the moment I entered the race.
“Aren’t the final scores a moot point by now? Aiden and I are together, what else matters?” Irene asks. Though I see her eyeing
the calculator as Charles enters the numbers from all the dates we went on earlier in the year. My fiercely competitive, fucking
adorable girlfriend.
But she’s right, it is a moot point. Irene already gave up the brand sponsorship. She has to put a lot of extra time into
her studies and catching up with her grades so she has no time to focus on anything additional on top of her regularly scheduled
content.
And me? Well, I’d gladly take the extra cash. But I turned it down as well. I’m also planning to move away from my review accounts sometime soon, anyways. Turns out that email Dr. Kingston wanted me to read was a link to an entry form for a creative writing contest put on by the Literature Department Alumni Association. That comes not only with some pretty hefty prize money, it also includes meetings with a handful of literary agents. I don’t know where all this will take me. I know publishing a book isn’t easy by any means. But if not this one, then I’ll write the next one.
I’ve got a source of inspiration, who also happens to be a wealth of information about the genre, by my side.
“Holy shit,” Charles exclaims.
“No way,” Jeannette yells, looking over his shoulder.
“What?” Irene and I ask at the same time. She grabs my hand and holds tight. It’s the thing she does when she’s nervous or
afraid or... well... I guess she reaches for my hand all the time these days, no reason needed. I love these small changes
in her. More affectionate, more open, more honest, asks for help if needed. She’s incredible.
“It’s... a tie,” Charles and Jeannette say. The two of them are also going strong. It’s funny. Where Irene and I are really
different and we come together and make something amazing, Charles and Jeannette are basically the same person and they come
together and make something amazing, too. Funny how love works. There’s no set formula or recipe. Tropes and HEAs can be expected...
but the truest thing I’m learning about romance is to expect the unexpected.
“No way, it can’t be,” Irene says, grabbing for the score sheets.
“Well, we added up all the scores from each date, and Aiden actually came out on top with that. But then we give ten points for each trope that was checked off your lists, and Irene came out on top there. So that gave you the same score,” Jeannette explains.
“And, funny, but you each only had one trope left unchecked on your lists. Irene’s was the abduction slash fall-in-love-with-your-kidnapper
trope.”
I turn to stare at my girlfriend. Few things ever surprise me about her. I’ve learned not to ask questions about the things
that do. She just shrugs and looks slightly disappointed she wasn’t able to check that box.
I see her scribble something down on a piece of paper and push it over toward Jeannette, trying to do it unnoticed. Jeannette
opens it up and barks out a laugh. She turns the paper over for us all to see.
Help me. This guy has kidnapped me and wants me to act like I’m his girlfriend. Call the police.
This girl. Fucking nut.
“Now, honey, no need to tell our friends how much you like being tied up,” I say casually.
She backhands me on the arm. “Private business stays private,” she says through clenched teeth.
As I said. Fucking nut.
I smile and her eyes home in, as they so often do, on my dimples. I have to thank my parents at some point for these, since
I have a sneaking suspicion they’re Irene’s favorite part about me.
“Well, hate to break it to you, Irene, but I win,” I say.
“What do you mean, you win? They just explained that it’s a tie. There is no winner in a tie. And we never settled on a tiebreaker. Anyways, I kinda like the thought of it ending in a tie. We’re both winners because we have each other,” she says in an adorable aegyo. She leans over and pecks me on the lips. I grab her before she pulls away and give her a harder and longer kiss before letting her go.
“Charles, tell the group what my supposed unchecked trope is.”
“Instalove,” Charles says.
“See? Now, unless there’s some other person you’re in love with that I don’t know about...” Irene holds out her arms like
she’s proven her point.
“Check the box, Charles,” I say to my friend. He smiles wickedly back at me. He’s the only one who knows. Until now.
“That’s cheating. The challenge is over. You can’t tell me you’ve suddenly fallen in love with... who? Wait. WHO IS SHE?”
Irene is up on her feet, her nostrils flaring. Ready to take down whoever this mystery person I’ve fallen instantly in love
with is.
“Irene, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you,” I confess.
She falls to her knees in front of me and narrows her eyes. “Liar. I was there, remember? You harassed me in our lit class.
You forced me to be your partner. You...”
“That wasn’t the first time I saw you,” I admit. “The first time was when I stumbled on your account and you were reviewing a book. Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “I love that book,” she whispers.
“I know. You said so in your review. You cried.” I swallow back my own emotion. I remember it so clearly. This beautiful girl,
full of energy and spark, talking about a romance between a duke committed to an asylum and a Quaker who learns to communicate
with him. I was mesmerized.
Her eyes begin to fill with tears now and I pull her to me, bringing her down into my lap. “Baby, don’t cry. It was a beautiful
review. I’d never seen anyone be that free with her passion before. I was a goner. I knew I wanted more. I went to your profile
and watched at least two hours of your reviews and posts. It inspired me to read more. You inspired me to start my own channel.
I hoped... well, I hoped I would be able to get to know you.”
“What? Are you serious?” Her expression is so open, so amazed, so... “You stalked me?”
She scrambles off my lap.
“I didn’t stalk you,” I say. Although now that I think about it, I can see how it might sound a little creepy to her. “I just wanted to be
around you. I wanted to get to know you. And the internet, and the college gods, apparently, helped make that happen.”
“That’s weird,” Jeannette says.
“It’s not weird,” I disagree.
“I mean, I didn’t think it was weird when you first told me at orientation. But now, not gonna lie, it sounds a little weird,”
Charles admits.
I stare around at my friends, the people who supposedly like me the most, and can’t believe they’re accusing me of being weird.
“It’s romantic,” I say.
“Um, is it, though?” Irene asks. But there’s a sparkle in her eye and she’s trying very hard not to let the smile free.
“You tell me, Irene. Is it romantic?” I ask her.
“Okay, fine. It’s kinda romantic. I’ll give you that.”
“Yes. Instalove, check. I win.” I say.
“Congratulations, baby,” Irene says as she kisses me on my eye, on my nose, on my cheek, and finally on my lips. “But I just
gotta say... I’m feeling a lot like a winner myself these days.”
Looks like we all win... and Happily Ever After is a pretty sweet prize.