The restaurant is dim with jazz music playing in the background. The tablecloths are bright white, the tables, chairs, and booths black wood. The floor is so shiny it’s like a mirror, and I don’t like walking on it. Everything feels expensive, and I feel cheap and out of place. Anna looks beautiful in her maroon wraparound dress, her dark hair falling in big, soft waves. I should have changed my clothes, but I didn’t because I didn’t know this was a dress-up type of night.

Apparently, everyone else knew, though, because even Zac and his friend John are wearing dark pants, light shirts, and jackets. Not jeans like I am. I’m seated across from my brother and his girlfriend, and John is next to me, on my right. To my left is the wall of the booth and a window. My eye continues to shift to the window, trying to discreetly find the latch, but there isn’t one that I can see. Does the window not open?

Count to ten, Holly. You’re not trapped. It’s only dinner.

My hand strokes my purse as they chitchat; inside is my cell phone with photos of every page of all my fairy tales. Oh, it’s not quite the same as having the actual books with me, but it’s close enough to make me feel less afraid without them.

John’s leg accidentally lightly brushes against mine, and I scoot to the left. A small person could fit between us now, but he still feels too close.

“We have news to share with you,” Zac announces, and Anna smiles shyly. “We wanted to tell you two first.”

I wonder how I became part of this special group and, while I like being included, I worry I can’t live up to such an expectation. John is Zac’s lifelong best friend. I’m a sister he barely knows. I begin to worry if I’ll react to the news appropriately. Silently, I pray I don’t hyperventilate and pass out. I wish Ty were here, sitting next to me.

“Well, don’t keep us waiting,” John urges. “Tell us.”

“I’m pregnant,” Anna says happily. “We found out last month but wanted to wait to share.”

“Holy shit!” John exclaims. “Congratulations.”

I’m filled with all sorts of emotions and questions. I’m going to be an aunt. Will they still be moving to New York? Will they still want me to go with them? Will they let me near the baby? Or will they keep her away, like my mother does with Lizzie, afraid I might taint her?

I force my brain to be quiet, and I smile at my brother and his girlfriend. “That’s terrific. I’m so happy for you both.”

They clasp hands on the table. “We’re really excited,” Zac says. “Surprised, but excited.”

“How far along are you?” John asks. He knows the right questions to ask. I don’t.

“About twelve weeks.”

“This doesn’t change the plan, right?” John asks. “You’re still coming to New York to work with me?”

“Definitely,” Zac answers. “We’ll just look for a bigger place, that’s all. And Anna wants to look for a position that will allow telecommuting so she can work from home with the baby.” His eyes travel over to me, and he smiles. “I hope you’ll still come with us, Holly. You can help with the baby.”

Anna jumps in. “Only if you want to, of course. I’m not going to force you to be a babysitter if you live with us,” She playfully slaps Zac’s arm. “Don’t scare her off.”

“I’d love to,” I say quickly. “I’ve never babysat before, obviously…”

The waitress comes to the table and takes our order. As usual, I have no idea what I like, so I get the same as Anna orders because it’s easier than reading the entire menu and asking people to explain what everything is.

“I’m glad you’re coming to New York, too,” John says to me after the waitress leaves. “We’ll all have fun together.”

“Thank you,” I say because I’m not sure how else to respond. “I’m looking forward to it,” I add for politeness. I’m a parrot. Repeating words I don’t even know if I feel.

Zac smiles at me across the table, and I get the nagging feeling that this was more than just a dinner with his sister and his best friend. I want to run to the ladies room and be alone for a few minutes, but I don’t want to ask John to move. That seems like it would be annoying, and that’s the last thing I want to be, so I stay there and keep counting to ten over and over in my head until it aches.

Their voices sound like they’re coming down a tunnel, and I know I’ve disconnected but I can’t help it. I smile when they do, but I don’t speak. Thankfully, they’re so involved in their conversation that I don’t think anyone notices, and I’m relieved.

Later—when Zac is driving us home, and I’m sitting in the backseat again with John—he leans closer to me. Too close.

“Can I get your number? Maybe we can talk sometime, or grab a bite to eat.”

I stare forward, at the back of my brother’s head, dumbfounded. Do I want to give him my number? Talk? Eat?

“I-me?” I stammer.

John smiles. “You don’t have be nervous, Holly. I’ve been your brother’s best friend since kindergarten.” His voice and his eyes are soft, sincere. Trustworthy. “I know what happened to you, and I’m sorry. I helped look for you, in the search party.”

I look down at my hands in my lap, wishing he hadn’t brought that up. And this is the first I’ve heard mention of a search party, which is actually a very ironic term. I wonder how much he knows and if he would understand that his knowing makes me even more nervous.

“Thank you…”

“I’d love to get to know you better, take you to some of my favorite places. Get you out a little more.”

My hands shake, and my palms dampen. I’m not ready for this. I’m not sure I want to be known better by John. Or anyone. And I don’t want to get out anymore. My smile is shaky and awkward. “I think I’d like to think about it. If that’s okay?”

“Sure it is.” He reaches behind him, pulls out his wallet, and takes a business card out of it. “Here’s my card. You can call or text my cell any time if you’d like to talk or go out. No strings or expectations, I promise.”

I take the card from him and slide it into my small purse, having no plans of adding him to my cell phone. I don’t want his number on my phone next to Ty’s. That feels wrong to me.

After Zac drops John off at his apartment, I breathe a sigh of relief and open the window a few inches to let some air into the car. I feel so suffocated I want to hang my head out the window like a dog.

“Holly…” Zac says, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “Don’t be scared. John’s a really good guy. I trust him with my life. He thinks you’re sweet.”

I gulp.

“Who’s my sweet little girl?”

“He really is a nice guy,” Anna adds. “A real gentleman. And so handsome. I think he would be good for you to spend time with. Take it slow, one day at a time. He’s very understanding. Who knows what could happen.”

John might be nice, but his eyes are hazel, not blue.

And he doesn’t wear soft faded jeans with holes at the knees with frayed edges.

And he doesn’t have pictures in his skin, a storybook for me to someday read.

And he doesn’t make my heart flutter.

He probably doesn’t even own a soft blanket.

He’s not prince material, and he never will be.

Everyone knows there can only be one prince, and I’ve already found mine.