Perfect Fit: A Novel

by Clare Gilmore

“All you did was pout. You were Season One Conrad Fisher. You were Olivia Rodrigo’s entire Sour album, on repeat. You were Ken when Barbie took away his mojo dojo casa house. You were—” “At least four other references I won’t understand?” he interrupts. “Don’t worry,” I say. “All the other surface-level girls would get them.”

“I don’t want us to be a distraction for each other.” Will slips his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He laughs briefly, bites his lip, and asks, “Do you plan to stop existing?”

Don’t show interest. Don’t show interest. Don’t— “What are you reading?” I ask, completely un-fucking-able to help myself.

“But the Spanish architecture!” I gasp.

“But right now, it’s not a relationship I would describe as healthy. And we don’t give our unconditional love to the things that hurt us.” We all stare in stunned silence. “I can be wise sometimes,” Eugenia says.