The Enemy

by Sarah Adams

Last night, I fell asleep thinking of ways to make June smile. I just want one aimed at me. Just one and I’ll be happy. I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of her smiles, but I’m determined to get one by the end of this week. It’s not that I’m head over heels in love with the woman already, but I feel a pull to her. A need to spend time with her. Be close to her. I can’t shake it.

I listen and nod approvingly through the entire monologue, acting surprised when she tells me they have a peg wall behind the counter that spells out D.D. where they hang each of their signature donuts every day to showcase their flavors. I smile as if I didn’t already know about it. As if I don’t also know that her booths are tufted in a blue-green velvet and the floor is speckled marble. I have to act surprised so she doesn’t find out I’ve been secretly following the bakery’s Instagram account ever since Logan accidentally informed me about Darlin’ Donuts a few years ago. I don’t actually follow her account or like or comment on any photos, so she has no way of knowing that I’ve been keeping up with her. But every night when I fall into bed, the first thing I do is type @DarlinDonuts into the Instagram search bar and stare at whatever photo she’s posted that day, hoping to see a glimpse of her face in every reflection.

I smile, letting the original sting I felt roll right off my back. June is striking back. She’s trying to get under my skin. You know why? Because she likes me.

It was the only outright compliment I ever gave her in high school. At the time, I didn’t think it meant anything to her. She read it, crumpled it up, and rolled her eyes like she thought I was still just messing with her. But apparently, it meant more to her than I thought. Enough to smooth it back out and hold on to it all this time. And now I’m thinking maybe we won’t run out of time…maybe we’ll get it right this time.