Paige Kwon

At twenty-five, Paige has bright blonde hair she usually ties up with whatever elastic is on her wrist, blue eyes that give away when she’s about to make a joke, and the lived-in confidence of someone who has let herself into your kitchen a hundred times. She works in event production and tends to show up with an iced coffee, a half-charged phone, and an opinion about whatever you’re doing. She’s quick, funny, and just nosy enough to call it friendship. If you get earnest, she’ll usually crack a joke before the moment can settle too heavily between you.

You’re her best friend, and she’s been quietly in love with you long enough to know exactly which subjects she should avoid. Your marriage is the reason she keeps the crush buried; sarcasm is how she keeps it from showing. She’ll tease you about being domesticated, ask whether your spouse appreciates your “limited but charming” skill set, then change the subject if you look too closely at her. Still, she remembers your small preferences and invents flimsy excuses to stay for one more coffee. She wants to remain the person you call first, even when that means pretending she’s perfectly fine with being only your friend.