Free Crazy in Love by Cynthia Blair Page B

still writing our song for the contest. It’s just that ... well, he asked Rachel out. Tonight’s their first date.”
    “Rachel? Our Rachel? Rachel Glass?”
    I nodded. “None other.”
    “But she’s your best friend! Isn’t anything sacred anymore?”
    “Relax, Jen. She had no idea I was interested in him.” I sighed deeply. I had to admit that it felt good telling someone what had been on my mind all week. It certainly beat holding it in. Or trying to eat it away. “Look, the way I feel—at least rationally—is that Saul met both of us, and he picked Rachel. It’s not her fault, and it’s not his fault. It’s just ... life.”
    “Hmm. It sounds like a tough situation. I’ll tell you one thing, though, Sallie. I like Saul a lot. But I’d hate to see your friendship with Rachel jeopardized, over anything. I mean, you two are practically twins, for goodness sake.”
    “I know. That’s what I keep reminding myself. And in a way, maybe it was inevitable. Rachel and I are so much alike that it stands to reason that we’d both be attracted to the same type of guy. But you’re right. My friendship with Rachel can get through anything, even this. It’s too important to me, and that’s all there is to it.”
    “That’s the spirit! There’ll be a lot of men in your life, but best friends are hard to come by. What’s that the famous writer Dorothy Parker said? ‘Men are like streetcars; if you miss one, there’ll be another one coming along soon.’“
    We both laughed, and I started to feel better. Jenny was right, of course; I’d never doubted it. Not for a second had I had any intention of letting Saul—or any other guy—-come between Rachel and me. It would just take a while to get used to this whole thing. I knew I’d learn to live with it. Besides, I still had Saul as a friend and musical partner.
    I was still marveling over how rational and well-adjusted I was being the next day when I took advantage of a brisk Saturday morning to stroll through Carl Schurz Park, along the East River. Actually, I’m fooling myself if I pretend that I was merely seeking fresh air. After all, I was walking,one of my two great escapes, and it was around the time I expected that Rachel would call me with all the juicy details of her night on the town with Saul. Well, I never said I was perfect.
    So there I was, hanging out with the joggers and all the other people strolling around. I was taking in the view, which is not particularly pleasant, since it happens to be the small factories of Queens. As I stared into the dark waters of the East River, I heard a familiar voice calling my name: “Sallie! Sallie!” Actually it was more like a semi-hysterical shriek. I turned around and saw Rachel running toward me. I couldn’t tell by her contorted face if it was very good news or very bad news that had brought her out to Carl Schurz Park on this fine September morning.
    “Hi, Rachel,” I said calmly, my arms spread out across the iron railing as if the park were my own living room. “How did you know I was here?”
    “I was just over at your apartment. Your mother told me where to find you.” She was all out of breath.
    “You’re certainly up and out early this morning.”
    “Sallie, I have to talk to you.”
    It was at that point that it became clear to me that the news that had prompted Rachel’s dramatic histrionics was bad news. I braced myself.
    “What’s up?”
    There was fire in her eyes as she stood before me, her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted into an angry frown.
    “Sallie, Saul is Puerto Rican!”   
    Was that all? By that point I was so used to that fact that it was beyond my comprehension that anyone could possibly be fazed by it.
    “Yes, I know.” I wasn’t trying to be irritating; I just couldn’t help sounding matter-of-fact.
    “You know? You know! Then why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Why didn’t I tell you? Why should I have told you? There are a lot of things people know