Heart Shaped Spotlight

"You really do need a proper name for that kitten,” I giggled.

She shrugged, running a hand through her short, tousled blonde hair. "I can't decide. But don't change the subject. What happened next?" She poured me another half glass, which I also drank immediately.

"I watched that show," I said slowly, already feeling the fabulous mellowing effects from my favorite grape-based concoction.

"It was amazing, right?" She grinned. "Next cycle you'll have to watch it from the beginning."

I shook my head, my bangs falling too far into my eyes. "No, I think I saw all I needed to see with that one."

"Oh, honey… Did it freak you out that he was singing to a Trisha? Did it make you all melancholy that you don't have a boyfriend to sing to you?" Carrie looked genuinely concerned. She was very empathetic. We’d spent many evenings over this cheap wooden table discussing her lousy dates, her boyfriends, and my desire to find one someday.

I stopped my fingers from drumming on the tabletop. "Carrie, we've been close friends for long enough that I can trust you completely, right?"

I examined her eyes as she nodded seriously. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I can't…" I trailed off. I didn't know how to say it. No, I couldn't say it. I couldn't let anyone know. I didn't know what Nate would do if he found me, but it would probably end up being public, and there was no way in hell I wanted to deal with that. I was a private person, and that would never change.

I just wanted him. Needed him. Even for a few minutes, to know that he was all right. That he was happy.

Carrie’s head tilted to the side as she stared at me. "Trisha, you're twenty-five, aren't you?"

I nodded. Dammit .

"Holy shit," she whispered under her breath. "It really was you. Nate was singing for you, wasn't he?" Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. He said her name started with an R.”

“It’s… He tried to get the yearbook guy to believe that the O didn’t count, so that O’Reilly could be next to Roberts on the page and we could be together.”

Carrie’s mouth fell open as she breathed, “Holy shit.”

I felt my teeth sinking into my bottom lip and stopped them before I drew blood. "Please don't tell anyone," I begged. "It was a long time ago, and when he doesn't find me, he'll let it go."

"Don't you want to see him again? Don't you want to see if you guys still have that spark?” She was bouncing in her seat, her fists tapping on the table.

I shook my head quickly. "That's the problem. He had all of the sparks. He's larger than life. His energy overtakes every room he walks into. I'm just the quiet little nerd who hides in the corner."

"But you've changed a lot, I’ll bet,” she said encouragingly, pouring us the last of the wine. "Even in the few years I've known you, you've been coming out of your shell a bit more. Maybe things would be different now."

"No," I practically whispered. "Not different enough to work."

"Oh, damn," she said slowly, "Did he dump you?"

"No. My family moved away, then moved several more times really fast. My dad's job took him all over the place. And they were really strict, so I wasn't allowed to call or text him. We completely lost touch.”

Carrie's hand fluttered over her heart as her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, that's so sad. Teenage sweethearts torn apart in the prime of their love."

"Good grief, settle down," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"Seriously, he wrote all those songs for you. He obviously still has huge feelings."

"He has feelings for eighteen-year-old me. There is no chance in hell that he would be interested in this present-day version."

“Did you look for him?” she asked. “You’re a bit of a tech whiz.”

I shook my head quickly. “I couldn’t. By the time I could have contacted him, it was way too late. I was positive he would have moved on, so I didn’t bother.”

Carrie waved to the bartender to bring us another carafe. "I'm going to get you tipsy enough that you think this through with an open mind," she said. It was hard not to laugh when she took on her bossy tone.

As an only child, I’d always wanted a big sister to help me navigate the hard issues since my mother was utterly useless. Carrie was only a year older, but was amazing at giving me the lowdown. She was the only good thing to come out of a book club I tried a few years ago. We ended up leaving because we couldn’t stand how pretentious the leader was, and went out for wine and real conversation instead.