Several days passed, and Ben and I went back to being our regular selves. I spent days wondering what the hug and conversation meant to Ben. Did it change things? Did he like me more than a friend? Meanwhile, he acted as nothing had changed. Why did I torture myself? This is Benjamin Flynn we are talking about, and I’m Alex Thompson. Boys like Ben do not look at or date girls like me. This is what I was spending my Wednesday night pondering until a familiar ringtone began playing “Maneater” on my nightstand. “Why the hell is Libby calling me at 11:47 at night?”
“Hello,” I said tiredly.
“Oh my god, Alex, I’m so glad you answered. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what? I’m confused.”
“I can’t be with Ben. I can’t take his self-righteous holier than thou attitude anymore. It’s lik
