The Girl Who Read The Dating Manual

rule one: don't act surprised when he shows up on your doorstep

            And behind him, bringing up the rear end of the trio, was Chance Ryder, a boy I’d left behind eighteen months ago heartbroken in an airport terminal as I told him I loved him, said my final goodbyes, and boarded a plane—where I thought I’d never see him again. Yet, here he was, as muscular and tanned as ever, his hair seeming blonder and his eyes lighter.

            “What?” I whispered, unable to comprehend their sudden appearance on my doorstep. I hadn’t seen them in over a year, and now they were here, on my doorstep, in England. “What are you guys doing here?”

            “We wanted to surprise you!” Ava said, bouncing up and down in her usual peppy manner. “So… surprise!”

            I just gaped at them all. As much as we’d tried to avoid it, unfortunately we’d lost contact over the year and a half since I’d left, constantly playing phone hockey and missing each other. Between work and study and time zones, it had been a true effort to nail a phone call once a week, and soon it had dissolved more than I’d like. I hadn’t heard from Chance in eighteen months, Jamie in three, and Ava in three weeks. And now here they were, standing before me in all of their glory.

            “Aren’t you happy to see us?” Ava asked, pouting once I’d failed to say anything. “Because we did not just travel twenty-three hours via plane, get stuck in the airport for three hours due to storms, and then spend two-hundred dollars on a cab to take us through the snow here for nothing. At least give me a hug and welcome us to the land of tea and corgis!”

            I snapped out of my daze then, and breathlessly threw my arms around Ava’s small figure, squeezing her. “Oh, my God!” I squeaked. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

            I stepped back in the doorway, just as Jamie bounded over and hugged me as well. Chance shyly stayed back, as if unsure how to carry himself, and, as if of its own accord, the memories carried themselves back to me.

            I thought back to my memories with Chance; of stolen kisses that tasted of mint and chocolate, of lazing around watching movies and cooking together. Chance had been my first love in every way, and it had ended in a pile of flaming ashes and perfect storms.

            “Babe?” a voice called out behind me, and I felt my face drain of blood as the shock wore off and the horror set in. “Who is it?”

            The sheepish grin slid off of Ava’s face, and her eyes involuntarily slid behind me. “Who is…” she trailed off as he appeared from the depths of the shower, wearing nothing but a white, low-slung towel on his hips, leaving his abs and muscular figure on display. “…that?”

            I let out a breath and turned to look at him. He was still wet from the shower, droplets falling from the curls at the nape of his neck and his long eyelashes. Things did not look good from their perspective, and I could see why.

            “I wanted to tell you,” I started off, feeling like I was on a never-ending tilt-a-whirl. Like I could throw up at any moment. “But I was afraid of what you’d say...”