xvii.

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Maj

“Do you know where Jayen went?” Aoife poked her head into the library.  I’ve been cleaning the library for about an hour now. The thick books had nothing else to do but collect dust. I was on one of those library ladders that slide down the bookcases.

“Don’t you?” 

“I mean, she’s at the town with the lady but she should be back by now. I watered all the plants and I need to know what to do now.” Aoife wrung her hands together.

“I guess. . .”

“Maj are you listening to me?”

No of course not. “Yes of course I am!”

Aoife walked over to the set of furniture in here. She threw herself onto an armchair. “I need advice.”

I put down the rag I was using to wipe the top of the bookcases and climbed down the ladder. After wiping my hands on my apron I sat down across from her. 

“What’s going on dear?” I asked, my voice sincere.

Aoife looked around, her eyes darting around the room. “I think I. . . I think I like. . .”

“It’s okay Aoife, I’m not going to tell them.” I assured her.

“I think I like. . .” Aoife swallowed whatever was in her throat. “I’m sorry I’ve never told anyone about something this.”

“It’s okay dear you don’t have to tell me if it makes you-”

“I think I like Jayen.”

“Oh!” My eyes widened. “Jayen, really?”

Aoife put her head in her hands and groaned. “I know. . .”

I titled my head. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was muffled by her hands. “I’m not even sure how I feel about her. I don’t even know how she feels about me. My stomach flips around and I love being around her but. . .”

“But?”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I tell her that I like her and she tells me she doesn’t feel the same? It’ll just be awkward and weird.”

“Mhm. I remember my first confession.” I nodded my head. Nobody’s ever come to me for advice like this.

“What did you do?”

“Well. . .” I felt my face flush. “And you can’t tell Jayen this--or anybody--but it was recent.”

“Recent? Aren’t you like fourty? You’ve had your whole life to have crushes.” Aoife looked up at me, confusion written across her face.

“I’m forty-six and yes, I have had my whole life but I rarely--if ever--feel romantic attraction. When I do I never notice it in time and usually drift away from the person.” 

“Oh. I get it.”

“Alright, stop interrupting me, child.” I chuckled. “It was a few months ago, we were very close and had started working together. Yes, working. We were cooking together and I smeared strawberry jam on their face and it got on or in their mouth. . .” I was warm with the memory, it was sweet.

“Go on, please.” Aoife was on the edge of her seat.

I smiled. “I had asked if it tasted good and they said something along the lines of asking if I wanted to try some. I said yes and. . .”

“Don’t tell me. You kissed them?”

I nodded, my face flush. “Yes.”

“Was it Kuna?”

“It was Kuna. We’re together now and they told me that they had felt the same for me months before I did. So I guess if you’re going to tell Jayen, have fun with it and just be yourself.”

“Like I can top what you did.” Aoife laughed.

I laughed with her. “I’m not too sure if she likes baking but I know she likes you. I’m just not sure in what way. I don’t think your confession will have an effect on your friendship.”

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Well I mean as long as you don’t--”

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