CHARACTER

Chris

Quick Facts

Who They Are

Bold, beautiful, and bracingly honest, Chris is the friend who brings levity when things fall apart and clarity when denial takes over. He is the third point of the trio with Emilie and Roxane, the one who cracks a joke, wipes the mascara, and then asks the hard question no one else will. The novel frames him as enviably attractive—heavy-lidded brown eyes, porcelain skin, and curly black hair that never seems to misbehave—yet his appeal is less about looks than an instinct for truth. Even his “trendy leather jacket” underlines the same quality: confidence without cruelty. Where Emilie tries to engineer love into a checklist, Chris insists that real connection happens when you stop performing and start risking.

Personality & Traits

Chris’s humor is a scalpel, not a shield—he uses wit to cut through Emilie’s rationalizations and his own fears. Loyal to a fault, he meets drama with tenderness first and judgment later, but he won’t enable self-deception. His vulnerability around Alex reveals the gap between his polished exterior and the anxious heart he keeps hidden, making his honesty feel earned rather than glib.

  • Loyal and supportive: FaceTimes Emilie first thing on Valentine’s Day to share intel on Josh; later follows her into the bathroom after the Macy incident, wiping away mascara before offering any critique.
  • Witty and sarcastic: Teases Emilie for being “hyper-anal” and debates the word “’nother” with Roxane; the banter lightens scenes while spotlighting how tightly Emilie clings to control.
  • Perceptive: Calls Josh’s charm “arrogance” from the outset and challenges Emilie’s compulsive planning, questioning whether her love is genuine or just another box to check.
  • Vulnerable: Admits fear that asking out Alex might ruin their friendship; his nerves complicate the “cool guy” image and make his eventual courage meaningful.
  • Honest: Delivers hard truths without hedging—especially when he labels Emilie’s scheduled I-love-you as “penciled-in-the-date,” pushing her toward self-awareness.

Character Journey

Chris begins in stasis: crushing on Alex from a safe distance and coaching Emilie through her curated romance with Josh. The time-looped Valentine’s Day cracks that inertia. Each reset reframes risk—not as catastrophic but as the only path to something real. When Chris finally seizes a “perfect opening” and asks Alex to hang out, he pivots from performative confidence to actual vulnerability. That choice pays off immediately, contrasting with Emilie’s faltering, over-planned relationship and illustrating that self-knowledge arrives not through strategy but through openness. By the end, Chris’s quiet victory models the book’s central lesson: authenticity isn’t an aesthetic—it’s a practice.

Key Relationships

  • Emilie Hornby: Their bond feels sibling-deep—affectionate, exasperated, and safe enough for brutal honesty. Chris comforts Emilie when she’s shattered, then nudges her to interrogate the difference between wanting the idea of Josh and wanting Josh himself. He becomes both soft place to land and catalyst for growth.
  • Roxane: With Roxane, Chris is a sparring partner and co-conspirator. Their playful bickering—over grammar, over gossip—creates a buoyant baseline that steadies Emilie; when stakes rise, they move in lockstep to protect their friend.
  • Alex Lopez: Chris’s crush becomes a proving ground for his own advice. The shift from “what if I ruin it?” to “what if I try?” turns rapport into romantic possibility, demonstrating how tender, low-drama love can flourish when pretense drops.
  • Nick Stark: Chris’s brief interactions with Nick Stark are disarmingly warm. In the car ride home, Nick’s blunt encouragement mirrors Chris’s own style, and Chris’s “hot, grumpy Cupid” quip neatly identifies Nick’s reluctant role in Emilie’s love life.

Defining Moments

Even small scenes reveal Chris’s function as the story’s moral barometer and emotional ballast.

  • The Morning FaceTime: Calling Emilie about the locker gift shows how invested he is in her happiness. Why it matters: It establishes the trio’s ritual of sharing intel and sets up Chris as a first responder to emotional emergencies.
  • Bathroom Comfort: After the Macy sighting, he follows Emilie into the girls’ bathroom, wipes her mascara, and steadies her with banter. Why it matters: Care comes before critique; his loyalty earns him the right to speak hard truths later.
  • Mock Trial Confrontation: He watches Emilie’s humiliating attempt to deliver Josh’s gift, then hugs instead of gloating. Why it matters: Compassion over correctness—Chris refuses to weaponize being right.
  • Asking Alex Out: He takes the leap and invites Alex to hang out. Why it matters: The action converts fear into connection, modeling the vulnerability he wants for Emilie.
  • The Ride with Nick: Chris opens up about his date; Nick unexpectedly affirms him. Why it matters: Their rapport reframes “grumpy” as protective, and Chris’s label for Nick clarifies the larger web of quiet, unsentimental care around Emilie.

What He Represents

Chris symbolizes friendship as truth-telling—love that comforts and also recalibrates. His romance with Alex grows because he shows up as himself, not as a carefully curated persona. Set against Emilie’s scheduled grand gestures, his arc argues that happiness follows sincerity, not strategy, anchoring the story’s exploration of identity and choice.

Essential Quotes

I knew my best friend, Chris, would roll his eyes and tell me I was being hyper-anal, but why leave the crease when it takes a mere two minutes to get it out?

This line shows how well Emilie anticipates Chris’s voice in her head: affectionate mockery that undercuts her perfectionism. Even before he speaks, Chris functions as her internal corrective, signaling how his humor pushes her toward flexibility.

"We don’t cry tears of mascara in the bathroom, remember?" he said, giving me an empathetic pout.

The joke lands because it’s paired with care—he’s literally wiping mascara while making the rule. Chris’s blend of tenderness and levity turns a humiliating moment into survivable intimacy.

"I knew he was going to turn out to be an asshole." Chris tossed the paper towel and put his arms around me. "He’s too cute and charming to be that cute and charming."

His immediate hug blocks the line from feeling smug; the critique is protective, not punitive. Chris names the pattern—weaponized charm—so Emilie can see beyond the fantasy and reassess what she wants.

"Okay. Here you are, Little Miss Planner. Little Miss To-Do List. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been obsessed with everything fitting into neat little boxes that you can check off... don’t you think saying I love you on your three-month anniversary that happens to be on a love holiday is just a little too penciled-in-the-date?"

This is the core of Chris’s philosophy: intention matters more than timing. By framing Emilie’s plan as a checklist item, he forces a distinction between performing romance and feeling it, nudging her toward self-honesty.

"Who are you, Nick Stark?" Chris teased. "I haven’t talked to you since second grade Cub Scouts, and now here you are, acting like some kind of hot, grumpy Cupid."

Chris’s label is playful but precise, capturing Nick’s reluctant but real investment in Emilie’s outcomes. The line also mirrors Chris’s own role—snarky on the surface, deeply supportive underneath.