Free What a Girl Wants by Kristin Billerbeck Page B

beauty is fleeting, but yet they seem to chase after it like a leaf in a rogue wind, stumbling and grasping, while another more intricate and colorful leaf dangles on the tree.
    Arin’s solo ends, and he quickly restarts our conversation. “She’s going where?”
    “Costa Rica. On a mission trip,” I repeat. Following Seth’s gaze to Arin, I must admit her beauty is mesmerizing. It’s not her looks. She just has that invisible quality that makes it impossible not to notice her in a room. I wish, just for one day, I could possess that spark. Eyeing Seth now, I know it has its privileges. Seth’s interest, for one.
    My statement has just hit Seth full force. He snaps his head like a Roman soldier’s whip. “She’s leaving Silicon Valley?”
    I feel the distinct need to soften the blow. “Seth, you barely know her. What if you don’t like her personality? I know she’s pretty but—”
    Seth looks at me wistfully. “You know, Ashley, I’ve lived my whole life doing the safe thing. What if there’s some great opportunity out there and I miss it? When you sang the other night at Starbucks, I saw this whole other side of you again. And I wondered what would happen if I took that kind of risk.”
    Great. He’s holding me responsible for pursuing Arin.
    His gaze catches mine and I feel as though he’s looking straight through me. To Arin. “I don’t want to miss God’s will for me because I was too wimpy to act, Ash.”
    God has Arin in mind for Seth? Weirder things have happened, I guess. It’s just terrific. While Arin frolics in the Central American rain forest, with Seth anticipating her return, I will be wearing an off-the-rack bridesmaid’s gown for an unknown Asian bride who speaks very little English. And Seth will probably call me or e-mail me, asking for my advice on dates he’ll actually spend money on when Arin returns.
    My life reeks like an onion.

8
    A fter church, the singles gang meets up at Chevys, a Mexican restaurant. Vive Mexico! I have seated myself at the middle of the long table, and I watch as Seth jockeys for a position next to Arin. Of course, I’m talking to the woman next to me and she has no idea my attention is directed elsewhere. Do you think there’s a name for this mental condition I so evidently have?
    Arin sees me and waves like the princess she is. “Ashley!” She turns quickly and runs directly into Seth who is following like a summertime shadow. “Excuse me,” she giggles.
    Seth frowns as Arin moves like a dragonfly around the table, buzzing through the crowds with ease. He is now faced with a Serious Dilemma. Will he risk looking obvious and come around the table, or just remain where he stands and hope I’ll introduce them again after the meal?
    And the winner is . . . desperation. He comes and sits on the other side of Arin after she sits down next to me. Noticing his overeager grin, she smiles uncomfortably.
    “Hello.” She reaches out a slender hand. Again my heart twists at the action and how it’s completely entranced Seth. You know, it’s one thing to be dumped by a guy. Happens to the best of us, right? But when you have to watch that same guy in the courtship dance for another’s heart, well, that’s just wrong.
    “Hi.” Seth reaches toward Arin and knocks a glass of water over, spilling icy liquid into her lap.
    Arin pops up like a sea lion gasping for air. “Cooold,” her hands shake and she looks down at her jeans and then gives me a look. “Ashley, can you come with me to the bathroom?”
    “Be right back,” I say, hoping to hide the obvious—that we’re going to the bathroom to discuss Seth and his giant, ice-water-spilling hands. I wish I could spare him the humiliation. Maybe I should have said something more at dinner that night. Maybe I should have been even more blunt—like hitting him with a two-by-four.
    We head off to the women’s room and Arin breaks into childish giggles in the mirror. “Ashley, who is that poor guy