Lovestruck

From the raging building emerged the silhouette of a muscular man. He strutted—flames licking his shoulders—unperturbed and unharmed, while muffled screams bellowed throughout what was, only hours before, the hospital Julie interned at.

Clutching a blanket — for shock they’d said — she watched the mysterious alpha go in several times, returning each time shrouding children in his arms.

Her eyes glued to the hero, she sighed cooing to herself, “Ah, love.”

“Don’t go fangirling him, kid. He’s a firefighter, it’s his job.” The commander’s gruff voice echoed from behind. “Urg, the movies nowadays, feeding teenagers all kinds of crap.”

Evolution

The edges had waned with the years. Within, was her younger self laughing to a long-lost joke, her arm around his waist and his arm enveloping her shoulder. Behind them loomed their college cafeteria; just the sight reminded her of weak mornings and strong coffees.

Life—priorities and perceptions—had evolved with adulthood. Old ideals had drained as the monsoon gives way to dry weather.

Yet the photo remained. Jerry and Jo had been the thickest of friends and the slimmest of couples. Throughout college they’d kept everyone guessing their relationship.

Now, Jerry and Jo are just a cherished memory.

Love, misinterpreted

Karen tore her eyes away from the new couple. It was time for her to go home. She couldn’t move, though—acceptance was too difficult. They’d been friends since childhood. Together they’d built sand castles, gone camping, and even spent days at school evaluating boys. Life had been simple then.

Throughout college, Karen didn’t realise she and her friend had fallen for the same person. When at last Kevin reciprocated her best friend’s love instead of hers, Karen was crestfallen.

Though happy for Richard and Kevin, she couldn’t forgive herself for falling in love with a man who loved another man.