Chapter 3: Robbie's POV

I watch Sam pull away. I feel like a fool for not going after her. But I can't worry about that now. I can't worry about everything that our relationship isn't. She has Mr. Darcy now. I'm sure he'll make Sam very happy.

The doorbell rings. It's Percy Jamrog. Percy comes in with his muddy boots. His shoes are always filthy. But, instead of going to college like the rest of us, Percy works with dirt. He started his business plowing snow, cutting down trees, and doing any other yard work he could get his hands on.

"Hey, man. How are you? You look confused."

I can't tell Percy that I held Sam in my arms and kissed her. Best friends don't fall in love, do they?

"Robbie? What's your deal? You haven't said shit to me since I came in. What the hell happened?"

"Sam's engaged. She came over here and showed me her ring. And told me all about Mr. Darcy."

"You don't still like Sam, do you?"

"No, who said I liked, Sam?"

"Come on. Was it supposed to be a secret?"

"It's more like a crush. It's not like she and I are together or anything," I reply.

"You told me you had sex after prom three years ago. That's more than a crush, man."

Percy is starting to piss me off. He knows I had sex with Sam one time and makes a point to tell me about it.

"Just tell Sam you like her," Percy says as he opens the fridge to get out a beer.

"I can't. There's nothing to tell."

I raise my voice to warn Percy to fuck off. He needs to shut up about this already.

"Man, if I were best friends with a girl like that...I'd be putting my lips everywhere."

"Don't talk about Sam like that," I say defensively.

"Whoa, chill out. I'm not going to kiss Sam. It's not like you're going to either."

I turn away from Percy. I feel my temperature rise again as I think about Sam. Nothing happened, idiot. I don't like Sam. I don't like Sam.

"Robbie? You're not going to kiss Sam, are you?" Percy sets down his beer and starts snooping around for chips.

"Percy, can you keep a secret?" I'm hoping he says no.

"What happened?"

"I kissed Sam..."

I can't look at Percy. He knows what this means. It means Sam's marrying someone else, and I have to let her go.

"When was this?"

"Today, after she told me she's engaged."

"Shit, man. Did she kiss you back?"

"What does that matter?" I bark.

"You're so dense. Did Sam kiss you back?"

"Well, she walked up to me and started kissing me for our second kiss?" I said, recalling the events that unfolded earlier.

"You kissed twice? Anything else happen?"

"We made out for a while. And I told her she's...beautiful."

"Fuck man, you love this girl."

I grab a beer and open it. I drink half of it.

"No, I don't. I don't love Sam. I can't love Sam. I...love...Sam...Fuck."

"Shit...you have a lot of thinking to do. Need me to go? Are you going to be okay?" Percy asks as he takes the other half of my beer away from me.

"I can't love Sam. We both agreed that this never happened. It's better that way."

Percy goes to the sink and fills up a cup of water. Instead of sipping it, he dumps it on my head.

"What the hell, Percy?"

"Wake up, dumbass. You like your best friend. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," I say, taking my beer back from Percy. I grab a towel to dry off.

"You can't do nothing. That's not right."

"Yes, it is. We aren't together. Drop it. I've made my decision."

Percy takes my beer and dumps it down the drain.

"What the fuck, Percy?"

"You're making a mistake."

"And so are you if you don't leave," I yell.

I shove Percy out of the house. He deserves to be kicked out. I wish he didn't come over at all.

I take out my phone and look at Instagram. Sam's page is full of congratulations, celebration, and marriage advice. Sam's better off without me. She needs a real man, and that will never be me.

I open the comments section; people will expect me to respond.

I write:

Congrats Sam. I wish you all the happiness in the world.

I press the comment button and feel empty inside when I do. In a different world, Sam would be mine. We would grow old and have five kids. I would hold her until my alarm would wake me up for work. She would be mine, until death due us part. But that's not realistic.

Reality is a joke, a terrifying game. I can't ask Sam to be mine when somebody else already has. I've always been slow, too scared to speak my mind. My opinions are stuffed down and held in, no thanks to my mom. She always hated me. I was her only kid, but I wasn't good enough to meet her standards.

My phone beeps and Sam likes my comment. That's fucking terrific. If she likes my comment, then it means that my lips on her meant nothing. And that anything past today will never happen. I have to let you go, Sam, and I think we both know it's for the best. I can never give her what she deserves, no matter how hard I try. Sorry, Sam, the truth is I'm not good enough for the likes of you.