ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ʀᴜᴇʟ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

"Yeah, I'll have the grilled cheese." 

The server gives Ruel a double-take. "That's from the kid's menu, sir." Your table erupts into laughter; Ruel's cheeks redden, but he beams anyway. "You have to be twelve or younger to order that, sorry." 

"I'm tall for my age," Ruel shrugs. With a sigh of concession, the server takes his order. 

"Do you really have to act out every time we go out, Ruel?" you say, elbowing him playfully. 

"Doctor says it's genetic, sorry," he dismisses with a smug sort of grin. 

"Oh, really? That's funny, seeing as Coco and Sylvie are normal, well-adjusted adults, and you're..." You trail off, and Ruel's laughter reaches beyond his smile and brings out the green of his eyes.  

Your special dinner goes just as you've dreamed. Everyone talks and laughs just like old friends, even though it's only you and Ruel who've known each other for years. You had worried that including your boyfriend, Mason, might make things awkward, since he's never been able to hide his jealousy of your friendship with Ruel very well— but to your surprise, the two get along without incident. Mason even laughs at some of Ruel's jokes, which is definitely a first. 

When the server returns to ask if you'd like dessert, the moment you've been dreading arrives. "Actually, it's her birthday, so—" 

Ruel swears out loud as you stomp on his toes, sending the table into another bout of ringing laughter that attracts more than a few nasty looks from the other patrons. But before you can stop him, Ruel, your self-described best friend, has you melting with shame as the restaurant staff puts on a theatrical production of "Happy Birthday to You" in your honor. 

"I still can't believe you did that," you complain good-naturedly as you get into the passenger seat of Mason's car. 

"You still haven't thanked me, either," Ruel pushes his luck, bending almost double so he can be face to face with you. "Hey, wait a second. Did you really think I'd forget your present?" 

"I told everyone not to worry—" But Ruel is already pushing a gift bag into your hands. 

"Go on, open it!" he begs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Eying him suspiciously— it wouldn't be the first time one of Ruel's presents has turned out to be a prank— you rifle through the paper until your hand closes around something fine and textured. You glance up at Ruel, who wrings his hands in faux anxiety. Chuckling, you pull out a dozen lengths of embroidery thread in a rainbow of colors. 

"I thought we could make friendship bracelets," he explains, eyes never leaving your face as he takes in your reaction. 

"Ruel..." you whisper, touched. 

"Aren't those for kids?" Mason interrupts, revving the engine impatiently. His jaw is set, and you can tell his patience for Ruel has worn thin. On the ride home, you'll have to explain to him for the hundredth time that there's nothing between you and Ruel.

"I'm going on tour again in a few months, you know, so I thought it could be a nice reminder while I'm away," Ruel continues, ignoring your boyfriend. 

You smile up at him, brighter than you have in months, and he returns it with that adorable grin that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. "Thank you, Ruel. Why don't we make them tomorrow?" 

He starts to agree when Mason overrides him. "Babe, we're going to the beach tomorrow, remember?" 

We can do both, you almost say, but Mason's expression brooks no argument. He's a wonderful boyfriend: supportive, thoughtful, responsible. But, for some reason, seeing you with Ruel brings out the worst in him. "Some other time," you tell Ruel apologetically. "Thank you, Ruel. This means a lot." 

He gives you a slightly smaller grin. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, angel."

"Ready to go, babe?" Mason asks loudly. "I still haven't gotten to show you my gift. It's at my place." 

"Sure," you say, reaching over to peck his cheek, just to calm him down. "Bye, Ruel." 

"Bye. Drive safe, Mason." 

Mason burns rubber in his haste to pull away from the curb. He's silent for a minute, driving as fast as he legally can, and you follow suit, letting him cool off. 

"Angel. He shouldn't call you that." 

You turn to the window so you can roll your eyes outside of his view. "It's not like that. He's called me that since we were kids. Look." Tenderly, you place a hand on his shoulder. "You have no reason to be jealous. Ruel's not into me." 

Mason thinks for a moment. "And what if he was?" 

You try not to hesitate. "Then I would remind him I have a boyfriend."  

That, at last, seems to appease him. "I'm sorry, babe," he sighs, slowing down. "I don't know why I get like this around him, but... I trust you." 

"Good. It was really nice to get to see both of you at the same time, you know. Pretty good birthday present." 

He grins at you. "Just wait till you see what I've got for you at home." You smile back, but inside you're still mulling over his question. What if Ruel was into you? 

It would be one thing if Ruel had liked you back a year ago, when you were still head over heels. Your feelings toward him haven't budged an inch, of course, but you've recognized that he sees you for a friend and decided to respect that, to move on. To try and move on. 

You're so wrapped up in your own feelings and worries that you never noticed how Ruel's face fell when he watched you kiss Mason's cheek.