P.S. I Still Love You

I tell her about the party, about Peter and Genevieve’s appearance, and most importantly the kiss
with John. “Margot, I think I could be a person who is in love with more than one person at a time.” I
might even be a girl that falls in love twelve hundred times. I get a sudden picture in my head of
myself as a bee, sipping nectar from a daisy to a rose to a lily. Each boy sweet in his own way.
“You?” She stops putting her hair in a ponytail and taps her finger to the screen. “Lara Jean, I think
you half-fall in love with every person you meet. It’s part of your charm. You’re in love with love.”
This may be true. Perhaps I am in love with love! That doesn’t seem like such a bad way to be.