Things get worse before they get better. It’s been exactly a week, and I’ve received no calls or texts from Jesse. I do my best to ignore the fact that this is the longest we’ve ever gone without talking since…forever.

Dave, on the other hand, won’t stop calling and texting. He even went so far as to send a bouquet of wildflowers (my favorite) to Stock House. It was tons of fun explaining to my supervisor, why I, an unpaid intern, am receiving personal correspondence at her place of employment, even though company policy explicitly prohibits personal deliveries of any kind.

When Dave finally realized I wasn’t going to return his affection—I thought ignoring him was my best option—his texts and calls turned nasty. He hurled insult after insult, calling me hurtful names like cheating whore and lying, deceitful bitch.

Because I’m trying my best to keep my mind off of Jesse (and Dave), I decide not to cancel my monthly girls’ date with Liza. As we make our way to the theater, however, I’m seriously second-guessing my decision. As soon as we open the doors, the rich, buttery smell of popcorn wafts over me. I adore movie theater popcorn, but today it instantly sours my stomach.

“So, any more hate texts from Dave?” Liza asks, as she hands me my ticket and we walk toward the concession counter.

“Nope,” I respond, and then add, “I don’t get half of his insults. He’s the one who cheated on me, not the other way around.”

Liza nods her head. “Dave’s a dirtbag.”

I narrow my eyes at her. He may be a dirtbag, but he is (was) my dirtbag.

“What?” She ushers me forward even though the concession line hasn’t moved. “You broke up with him for good this time.” When I don’t immediately agree, she questions, “Right?”

I look away. “Yeah.”

“We’ve always been honest with each other, right?” she questions again.

“One hundred percent.”

“And you’d want me to say what I think, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, right?”

“Riiiight.” I drag out the word, not liking the direction of this conversation.

“Let me give it to you straight. Dave is a class-A asshole who doesn’t deserve you.” I raise my eyebrows, but she continues. “And I’d say that even if he didn’t cheat on you.”

“You were the one who introduced us.”

“Yeah, that was before I really got to know him.” She holds up her hands in apology. “My bad.”

For some reason I can’t meet her eyes. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. I’ve fought with Dave before. Hell, I’ve gone weeks without talking to him. I watch the girl behind the counter fill a bag with popcorn. One scoop. Two scoops. By the third scoop, it finally hits me why I’m so upset: Jesse.

I’ve never fought with Jesse this way.

Sure, we’ve argued. We have our differences. No one’s perfect.

But I never once questioned where we stood. I care about him. He cares about me. We love each other, have since we were five years old. He is my forever heart.

But…he was so angry when he left my apartment.

“Earth to Riley.” Liza waves her hands in front of my face. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

I blink once, twice. “No.”

“I said, although I’d deny I ever said it, maybe Dave is right.”

“What?” My voice booms so loud, the two customers in front of us turn around.

“You know my feelings about guys and girls and friendship? No bueno. You and Jesse have been doing this dance for too long. I say fuck him and see where it goes.”

“Liza!” I scold, my cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. Did she really just say to fuck Jesse?

Why are you surprised, Riley? Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about for months, and if I’m being entirely honest, years?

“Come on, Riley.” The line inches forward a bit more. “Don’t tell me you never thought about it.”

More than you’ll ever know. “No.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re together all the time. You still have sleepovers, for Christ’s sake. And if you’d open your damn eyes, you’d see that boy is crazy about you.”

“It’s not like that between us.” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve uttered those words I’d have…a lot of freakin’ dollars.

“Maybe not for you, but I’m telling you that boy would jump at the chance to jump you.” She laughs at her own silly joke.

“Liza,” I say again in warning.

She turns to face me dead on, her expression serious. “Maybe he is your best friend. Maybe it will be messy. Maybe the time was never right before now… but you won’t know unless you try. You both may miss out on the best thing of your lives because you’re too scared. Take the jump. Maybe you will be sorry. Maybe you won’t. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

The time passes quickly, and I don’t recall a single thing that happens in the movie, because I’m too busy asking myself over and over again: Am I willing to try?