If Only She Knew

Chapter One: The Post

Sam Petrini was meant to be working when she saw the Instagram post. When she looked at her phone, she was instantly filled with regret.

"Shit," she whispered, her heart sinking like a ship's anchor.

There, on her screen, was a girl.

But not just any girl.

This girl was Billie Carter and Sam had been crushing on her for precisely five years.

In the photo on Sam's phone, she could have been mistaken for a celebrity. She wore a white crop top with lilac joggers and crisp white trainers, her long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail. On top of her head sat a pair of star-shaped sunglasses.

Sam's eyes flitted across to the other person in the photo. A blonde girl she had never seen before, with peachy tan skin and lots of rings on her fingers.

The same fingers that were entwined with Billie's.

Billie had her eyes closed, and she was kissing the blonde girl's cheek. They were both smiling, adoration written all over their faces.

There was a red love heart in the caption and the first comment that Sam read was "you guys are too cuuuute!"

You have to be kidding me, she thought.

All these years, Sam had assumed that Billie was straight. After all, the girl had gone from one boy to the next before her nail polish had had chance to chip.

Yes, Billie was straight.

She had to be straight.

Except she wasn't.

She absolutely, definitely wasn't.

"Shit," Sam whispered again.

"Um, are you okay?" someone said.

Sam almost dropped her phone. A woman was standing at the till, only a foot or so away from her face. She had a baby strapped to her chest in a carrier sling.

The baby stared at Sam vacantly through a pair of big blue eyes.

"I'm so sorry," said Sam, slipping her phone into her pocket. "How can I help?"

The woman looked slightly amused and slightly scared. She clutched her baby tightly, as if Sam might be about to lunge forward and grab it from her.

"I just wanted to know where the eggs are," the woman said.

"Third aisle at the back on the bottom row," said Sam, almost robotically.

The woman turned around and walked towards the back of the shop.

"I like your jeans, by the way," Sam called after her. "Very 2002."

The woman laughed nervously and mumbled a halfhearted 'thanks', without even looking behind her.

Sam's heart sank.

Everyone has a talent, in one form or another. Some people are great dancers. Others are brilliant at maths, or good at playing a musical instrument.

Sam, however, was exceptionally good at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, no matter the situation.

She hadn't always been like this. She used to be quiet and reserved, guarding her words like gold. However, since the thing happened, she had stopped caring. Life seemed too short to care what people thought about you.

That's why, when the woman came back to the till with a box of eggs, Sam beamed joyfully as if nothing embarrassing had ever happened.

"That'll be one pound eighty please," she said in her singsong Liverpool accent.

The woman handed her two pounds and told her to put the remaining twenty pence in the charity box.

"Have a lovely day," she called after the woman as she walked out of the shop.

As Sam swept the shop floor that evening, she tried to get Billie out of her mind.

However, no matter how hard she tried, all she could think about was Billie's cute smile and how lucky her girlfriend must feel to be with her.

Her most predominant thought, however, was that she would have given absolutely anything to go back in time and change it all. If Billie had known that Sam was A) gay and B) very much interested in her then maybe, just maybe, something could have happened.

And that way, maybe Sam wouldn't be standing here alone, in the middle of a supermarket, with a grotty grey mop in her hand.

But it was too late. Billie was in Australia and she was, to Sam's knowledge, in a happy relationship with another woman.

She had missed her chance.

Or had she?