To Be a Girl

Chapter Two: So Blessed

Chapter Two: So Blessed

“Gemma, I really can’t describe how utterly embarrassing this is. I mean, honestly. He laughed.”

Gemma and I walked to her car, as routine. She was holding in her own laughter, at my humiliation.

Talk about being a best friend.

The literal only reason I can come up with explaining why Gemma Breeland and I are friends is that opposites attract.

She is a blonde, hazel (they melt your heart) eyed, floral dress sporting, pink heel stomping, lipstick wearing, happy cheerleader.

If it weren’t for her great advice, immense writing skills and side-splitting humor I’d hate her.

“GEMMA THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” I yelled.

Then she broke into a great laughter, a graceful jingle of bells that usually made me want to laugh and cry and shout for an encore.

(Gemma Breeland was the epitome of perfection)

But not today.

“Seriously, Gemma. What am I supposed to do?”

“Supposed to do about what?” A husky voice came from behind me. We both spun around to look at my other best friend, Henry Walters. His dark skin almost matched mine, but while he was biracial I was just tan. We also had the same dark brown, almost black hair. When we were together, people thought us to be siblings. But a pretty significant difference was that he had dark brown eyes while mine were round and obnoxiously blue.

Gemma jumped to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, smiling while saying. “Reid finally told Kyle.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? He didn’t mention it at all today during practice. I feel like he would have told me, you know, if his bestie professed her love.”

Gemma smiled, showing all of her teeth. “Well, he probably didn’t tell you because…”

She looked at me to finish, but I just frowned at her.

“Because…” She tried again.

I sighed, because if I didn’t tell Henry, his girlfriend would. Which is worse. “He thought I was joking.” I muttered.

Henry frowned, as if not hearing. Then, after processing this new information, he went into a raging fit of laughter. Gemma joined him, and they collapsed in a fit of laughter on the ground. I crossed my arms and glared at them. Talk about dramatic.

Henry Walters was a notorious “player” up until sophomore year. He had been the stereotypical jock that hooked up with every girl, whenever he could. And girls let him, because he was hot. But he had also been an asshole. But on one bright sunny day, a certain Gemma Breeland moved to Weatherford, Oklahoma from Bristol, and it was all over for him. He, and every other boy. The animals fought for a date with the fabulous, British, beautiful new girl.  After weeks, Henry earned his spot and took her out to dinner. I remember Henry coming over to my house after the date, mesmerized and saying he was in love. From then on he was a one-girl guy, and even after two years I still believe Gemma and Henry to be the absolute perfect couple.

God, I hate them.

Especially at this moment.

“Guys, seriously, knock it off.” But they continued laughing.

I threw up my hands. “Well, great. This is really great. I’m so comforted that two of my favorite people find my utter humiliation and embarrassment so amusing. Like, honestly. So blessed.”