Chapter 1: Friendship Goals
The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of their small but cozy apartment, painting stripes of gold across the wooden floor. Linda leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed, a half-smile playing on her lips as she watched Mathilda rummage through the fridge like she was on some epic treasure hunt.
"Girl, you've been staring at me all day," Mathilda said, pulling out a carton of strawberries and waving it like a prized possession. "What? You're acting weird."
Linda chuckled, adjusting her posture. "I'm not acting weird. I'm just… thinking."
Mathilda raised an eyebrow. "About what? Don't tell me it's another one of your life lessons. You sound like my mother half the time."
Linda shrugged and leaned her head against the counter. "No, I mean… it's Valentine's Day coming up, and I was just thinking about us. About our love lives—or the lack of them."
Mathilda laughed, tossing the strawberries onto the counter. "Oh, now I get it. You're trying to be serious. Linda, we're single, okay? Like really, really single. You, the confident one who swears she doesn't need a man, and me, the hopeless romantic who keeps swiping on every dating app known to mankind."
Linda smiled faintly. "Exactly. But that doesn't mean we can't… hope."
Mathilda leaned against the counter, tilting her head. "Hope? Girl, what are you hoping for? That some tall, dark, and handsome stranger shows up on your doorstep with roses and a box of chocolate?"
Linda rolled her eyes playfully. "Not exactly. I just… I don't know. Sometimes I think about how Valentine's Day is supposed to be all love and happiness, and here we are, still navigating this… single-life chaos."
Mathilda laughed again, shaking her head. "Single-life chaos. That's a perfect description. Honestly, though, I'm not too worried. Love will find me… eventually. Maybe even by Valentine's Day. Stranger things have happened."
Linda tilted her head, studying her best friend. Mathilda had always been the free spirit between the two of them—playful, spontaneous, and a little reckless when it came to romance. Linda, on the other hand, was methodical, careful, and calculated in her approach. She liked to observe, plan, and ensure that when she stepped into something, it was worth it. But watching Mathilda's carefree attitude, Linda couldn't help but feel a little envious.
"You really believe that, huh?" Linda asked, crossing her arms.
Mathilda shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Of course! And don't tell me you don't. I know you're secretly hoping too, even if you won't admit it."
Linda sighed, leaning against the counter a little more heavily. "Maybe I am. But it's complicated. I don't just want anyone, Mathilda. I want… something real. Something that lasts."
Mathilda nudged her with her elbow. "Girl, same here. But you can't spend your whole life waiting for a fairytale. Sometimes you gotta take chances. That's why I've been on every dating app this week."
Linda laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know how you do it. I can't even commit to messaging someone online without overthinking it a hundred times."
"See? That's why we make the perfect team," Mathilda said, winking. "You're careful, I'm reckless. Balance. Yin and yang."
Linda smiled softly. She loved moments like this, where the world felt small, and it was just the two of them, wrapped up in laughter and half-serious conversations about love.
"Speaking of love," Mathilda said, leaning closer, lowering her voice like she was about to reveal a secret, "have you ever thought about… trying something… a little unconventional?"
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional? What do you mean?"
Mathilda grinned mischievously. "Like, I don't know… some kind of ritual or superstition to attract love. Something fun, something… different."
Linda laughed, shaking her head. "Mathilda, we're not twelve. I'm not eating magical berries under a full moon or whatever you're about to suggest."
"Not berries, but close," Mathilda said, pulling a small box from the cabinet. She opened it to reveal twelve shiny grapes. "Twelve grapes. One for each month. It's supposed to bring love into your life. Eat them under the table for good luck."
Linda stared at the grapes, then back at Mathilda. "You're serious?"
"Completely serious," Mathilda said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "It's fun! Come on, just one night of silly superstition. What's the worst that could happen?"
Linda hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine. One night. But if I end up falling for a guy with three cats named after Star Wars characters, it's on you."
Mathilda laughed, clapping her hands. "Deal! Tonight, under the table, grapes at the ready."
As the evening sun dipped lower, the two friends prepared their little ritual. Linda was skeptical, but she couldn't deny the sense of excitement bubbling in her chest. Mathilda, meanwhile, was practically bouncing with energy.
"Okay," Mathilda said, crawling under the table with a dramatic flourish, "here we go. One grape for January, one grape for February…"
Linda followed reluctantly, laughing despite herself. "Stop making it sound like a magic spell. We're just eating grapes."
Mathilda rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. But when we meet our soulmates, don't come crying to me saying I didn't warn you."
They ate the grapes in silence, punctuated by occasional giggles and the soft clinking of teeth on grape skins. It was absurd, childish even, but somehow it felt right. A tiny moment of joy, shared between two best friends navigating the messy world of adulthood and love.
After the ritual, they sat back, brushing grape juice from their fingers. "Well," Linda said, stretching, "that was… something."
Mathilda grinned. "Something good! The universe owes us big time now."
Linda shook her head, smiling despite herself. "I hope you're right. I really do."
They lingered in the kitchen a while longer, sipping wine and talking about past crushes, failed dates, and the ridiculousness of modern dating. Linda found herself opening up more than usual, sharing memories she hadn't told anyone, stories about her first heartbreak, her fleeting flings, and the quiet moments of loneliness she often hid behind a confident exterior.
Mathilda listened, nodding, offering the occasional teasing remark, but mostly just listening. It was rare to find someone who understood without judgment.
"You know," Linda said after a while, "I don't tell people this, but sometimes I worry that I'll end up… alone. Forever."
Mathilda reached over, giving her friend's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Linda, you won't. Look at me—I've been through heartbreaks, bad dates, you name it. But here I am, still standing, still hoping. You'll find someone too. Maybe even by Valentine's Day."
Linda smiled, a little wryly. "That would be something, wouldn't it?"
Mathilda grinned. "Something amazing. And when it happens, we'll toast with champagne and laugh at these grapes."
They laughed together, the sound filling the apartment like a promise. In that moment, Linda realized that no matter what happened with love, she wasn't truly alone. She had Mathilda. Always.
As the night wore on, they moved to the living room, sprawled across the couch in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on a random TV show or swapping stories about co-workers. There was a quiet understanding between them, a bond forged through years of shared experiences, laughter, and sometimes tears.
"You know," Mathilda said suddenly, her tone thoughtful, "we should make a pact."
Linda tilted her head, curious. "A pact?"
"Yeah," Mathilda said, her eyes serious for once. "No matter what happens with love, no matter how crazy life gets, we've got each other's backs. Always. Deal?"
Linda smiled, touched by the sentiment. "Deal. Always."
They bumped fists, sealing their little pact, and for the first time in a long while, Linda felt a flicker of hope. Not just for love, but for the future—whatever it might bring.
Valentine's Day was coming, yes. And yes, they were both hopelessly single. But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. Not with a friend like Mathilda by her side.
The clock ticked on, the city outside buzzing with life, oblivious to the small apartment filled with laughter, hope, and a little bit of grape juice. For Linda and Mathilda, it was a night of simple magic, a night to remind them that friendship could be just as powerful, just as comforting, and just as thrilling as any romance.
And with that thought, Linda leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, letting herself dream a little. Maybe, this year, Valentine's Day would be different. Maybe, the universe had something extraordinary in store.
But for now, she was content. Because she wasn't alone. Not really.
And that, she realized with a smile, was more than enough.