Jett’s question spun around in my head as I chewed and swallowed down my Oreo. He said he wanted me to be his one and only. It was unbelievable. Was he truly being sincere?

He expressed his feelings for me in front of all those people, even the girls he had a past with. I took a handful of Cheetos and shoved them into my mouth as I lay on my bed in a serious funk.

I knew he had a past, but I hadn’t expected to hear all the lurid details. When I got out of the bathroom, those girls had swarmed me, telling me that they had something important to tell me. They took me aside, each girl with a grim look on her pretty face.

Jane was Columbian with full lips and a heart-shaped face. She spoke brusquely without expression on her gorgeous face. “He picked me up at a party. He seemed like such a nice guy. Told me I was so beautiful. I bought it. I invited him over. We had sex of course. I fell asleep afterward. When I woke up, an hour later, he was gone.”

“That same night,” Teresa added, “he called me up, asking me if I wanted to hang out.”

“So, Teresa shows up to the party with Jett when I’d just seen him leave with Jane a couple hours before,” Sadie said coldly. “The week before, he took me out to a romantic picnic lunch in Golden Gate Park. He took me home where we screwed all afternoon.”

Samantha was next to add to the linked story. “Later that night, he called me over. After he romanced another girl, he had me over for a booty call.”

Their stories had my stomach in knots. Jett had done all that? “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible,” I said, looking each girl in the face to show my sincerity.

Samantha gave me a sullen smile. “Just think, there is a girl somewhere who he hung out with the very same day he was with you.”

My skin prickled. Could Jett do that to me? Could he have been with another girl that night we went to Chez Panisse? Were his lips on someone else after he dropped me off? Worse, were they kissing someone else before we saw each other? Revulsion washed over me as the girls stood around me, staring.

I took apart another Oreo, smashed in three Cheetos, and then crammed them into my mouth. That night with Jett had felt special. It felt wonderful to be with him. So real and genuine. Could I trust that he’d changed his ways for me?

Grabbing my notebook, I looked over my list of pros and cons about Jett I’d written out, right when I’d come home from the party. Pros: Handsome. Intelligent. Sweet. Thoughtful. Cons: Too many ex-girls. Known Liar. Jock. Player.

In frustration, I chucked the notebook across the room. My list wasn’t working. Jett had been sweet and thoughtful to me, but how long was that behavior really going to last until he tossed me aside for someone else? A con was that Jett was a player, but maybe, just maybe he’d changed for me.

Am I fooling myself to think that?

I browsed through the Netflix interface looking for something silly and comedic. My orange Cheeto fingers lazily clicked and scrolled on my Mac’s touchpad. I scrolled quickly past the Romantic Comedies Netflix recommended to me. Mama Mia. 13 Going on 30. Legally Blonde. All adorable movies with happy endings. I slammed my laptop shut.

Marsha walked in right then. She jumped at the sound of my laptop shutting and looked at me cautiously. “What did your laptop ever do to you?” She looked pretty in a short red dress and black stiletto heels. Taking off her shoes, she noticed my notebook haphazardly thrown on the floor and picked it up.

Aloud, she read the list, “Pros: Handsome, intelligent, sweet, thoughtful…” She stopped reading, looking at me in confusion. “Who is this list about?”

I grumbled, “Jett.”

She flipped through the pages of the notebook. “Where’s Troy’s list?”

“I didn’t make a list for Troy,” I said, taking an Oreo out of the package. “Honestly, I only see Troy as a friend.”

Marsha threw the notebook hard onto my desk. It landed askew; the pages bent and crumpled. “I don’t get it. Troy is clearly crazy for you, but he’s still not good enough. You’d rather waste your time with a bad boy who will only fuck you and leave you.” She turned away from me, slipping off her dress.

“Marsha, why are you so mad?” I asked, covering my full mouth with my hand. It was difficult to talk with the Oreos and Cheetos.

She turned around to me after she’d pulled on a Cal sweatshirt and sweatpants. Tears rolled down her face. “You are such an idiot. You know that? You don’t even deserve, Troy.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

What is her problem?

“If you think Troy is so great, why don’t you go for him?” I couldn’t figure out her deal. Why was she so invested in my relationship with Troy?

Marsha slowly sat down on her bed. Sniffling, she looked at me and said, “I’ve tried.”

“You have?” Her confession astonished me.

I put the Oreo that I had in my hand back in the package and listened as she explained. “I’ve been in love with Troy since high school. We went to Los Alamos High together, but he never showed any interest in me there growing up.” Marsha’s tears kept rolling down her cheeks as she spoke. “I wasn’t very cute back then. I wore huge thick glasses. Pimples all over my face. I even had a mustache my mom wouldn’t let me wax off until I was 18.”

My eyes widened as I looked at her. Marsha with a mustache. That must’ve been terrible. “How sad.”

“I was a complete dork. When I found out he was going to Berkeley, I had to come too.” Marsha laid her head on her pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “And I thought I’d reinvent myself. Then he’d see how we were meant to be together.” Her voice trailed off. “But, even here, he just doesn’t like me.” Soft sobs filled her throat.

I was completely confused. If Marsha was in love with him, why did she want me to be his girlfriend? That sounded counter-intuitive. “If you like him, then why would you want me to pick him over Jett? I don’t get it.”

Marsha stopped crying and sat up. Looking right at me unnervingly, she said, “Because I want to see him happy. I’ll do anything in my power to give him what he deserves: happiness and love.” Her eyes were red from crying, but they were unflinching. “You don’t know him, Laney. He’s an amazing person. Troy deserves the very best.”

I shirked under her stare. Pulling my comforter and sheets over me tightly, I had no idea what to say to her.