He’s everything I ever would have said I wanted, anything any girl would want. If a fairy godmother had asked me to make a list of all I’d like in a young man, he’s what she’d cook up. But I love him only as a friend, or as a sister loves a brother. It’s as though I had all the ingredients set out to make Eton mess, or Mrs. Sanderson’s tomato soup cake, but I couldn’t follow the recipe. The ingredients wouldn’t come together. When I realized I loved my friend Jordan, it was as though that kitchen, where before I couldn’t make a cake or a pavlova, turned into a land of sweets. The air burst
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