The Boyfriend Blog

“The Friend Zone,” I mumble, more to myself than to her.

“Yeah, you know, it’s when—”

“I know what the Friend Zone is. The question is, how do I get out of it?”

“You don’t give up. If she’s worth it, you keep trying until you convince her to give you a chance, and then you don’t blow it.”

“She’s worth it.”

6

Lizzie

I’m not single. I’m in a long-distance relationship because my boyfriend lives in the future. –Liz

“Is your food good?”

“It’s delicious,” I say, poking around at the chicken on my plate.

My date, Craig, who has been nothing but sweet and attentive, stares at my dinner. “You’ve barely touched your meal. I can send it back and order you something different if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting my fork on the plate. “My mind is a little preoccupied, and that isn’t fair to you.”

It isn’t fair to me either, but all I’ve done since I left Edna’s apartment is think about Aiden.

Mr. Right? Mr. Right? I should’ve reminded Aiden that I’d once given him the chance to be Mr. Right, and he flat out-out rejected me. My heart still holds the scars from that night—something I had to learn to deal with in order to salvage our friendship. Things were rocky at first, but I refused to let my unrequited feelings ruin what we had. There are days I want to give in, offer myself to him once again in hopes that his feelings have evolved, until the vividly embarrassing moment flashes to the forefront of my mind.

It had been a cool fall night. I’d spent the evening at a frat house party with my sister, Aiden, and a few of our friends. We were drinking and having fun. My feelings for Aiden had been brewing for several months, and that night, as I watched him turn down girl after girl, I’d tried to come up with a way to tell him how I felt. Unfortunately, I waited too long, and the moment passed.

Aiden left with a few of his buddies, and Emily and I went back to our apartment. I lay in bed for hours, thinking about him—about us—and finally garnered enough courage. With a whole lot of hope, I popped out of bed, threw on the nearest coat, and trekked the three blocks to Aiden’s place.

He opened the door looking sleepy and disheveled, and maybe a little intoxicated, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I was nervous. More nervous than I could ever remember being, because for the first time in my life, I was about to put my heart and friendship on the line, and my only hope was that he felt the same way.

I hadn’t realized I’d been crying until I felt his thumb brush across my cheek. He pulled me into his apartment and even farther into his arms, and I knew that that was my moment.

I pushed onto my toes and kissed him. For one glorious moment, he’d kissed me back with warm, soft lips, a hand pressed to my lower back, holding me close, and then he’d jerked back. He shook his head in disbelief, blinked a few times, and rubbed his eyes before speaking. “That can’t happen again, not with you.”

Cue the tears.

I’d given it my best shot. I should’ve been proud. I wasn’t. I was humiliated and embarrassed and fearful of what I’d just done to our friendship. I refused to let him see me break down and ran out of there as fast as my legs would carry me.

To make matters worse, Aiden showed up at my apartment early the next morning, wanting to talk about what had happened the night before, but I’d refused to discuss it. It was easier to pretend that it never happened than relive the single worst night of my life.

He reluctantly agreed.

It took months and a hell of a lot of tears for our friendship to get back on track, and even then, things weren’t normal—that didn’t come for another few years. And now that we’re finally back to a good place, he wants to be Mr. Right?

I think not.

“Lizzie?”

“Sorry.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and reach for my fork. I’m done thinking about Aiden. “I’m okay. I promise.”

I plunge my fork into the bowl of homestyle green beans and take a bite. When my eyes roll back into my head, Craig laughs. Lorraine’s is a quaint diner in the neighboring town. I’ve heard of it, but this is my first time here.

And it won’t be my last.

Stabbing a chunk of chicken, I pop it into my mouth and moan.