I kind of wished it would.
* * *
Molly answered her door, holding a sleeping Kate in her arms. “Hey.”
“Hey. I know you have a newborn and the last thing you need is your idiot brother coming over, and I probably should have called first, but can I come in anyway?”
“Of course you can.”
“Mom and Dad aren’t here, are they?” I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if I’d missed their car again.
“No. Mom was here earlier, but she went home a while ago.”
I shuffled inside and went straight for her couch. “Where’s Martin?”
“He got called into work. Some kind of emergency.”
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
She gently lowered Kate into a bassinet next to her chair, then sat down. “We’re fine. He’ll only be gone a couple of hours. And I feel pretty good. He took her for a walk earlier so I could take a nap. But what’s wrong with you? You look awful.”
I didn’t even argue with her, just ran my fingers through my hair. She was probably right.
“The last few days have sucked balls.” I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk about Hazel. What could I say? That the girl I hadn’t really been dating had basically broken up with me? Or had I broken up with her? Was this really a break-up? My thoughts were too scattered. “Paisley kind of tried to get me to sleep with her on Saturday.”
“She did what?”
“I got out of the shower and she was on my couch. In nothing but one of my shirts and her underwear.”
Molly’s mouth hung open and her eyes widened.
“That’s basically the face I made.” I gestured toward her. “She told me she’d been trying to drop hints so I’d ask her out, but I hadn’t picked up on it. And that she wanted me, and we should… you know. God, in high school I would have sold a kidney to hear her say that.”
“Oh my god. Please tell me you turned her down.”
“Why? I mean, yeah, I did. But she’s your best friend.”
“I know. And I love her because I’ve known her forever, but she’s a mess when it comes to men. She picks the worst guys and then can’t figure out why it never works.”
“The worst guys? Thanks.”
She laughed. “I don’t mean you. Oh my god, this makes so much sense. Not long after you moved in next to her, she started talking about how she needed to stop dating all these assholes just because they’re hot and drive nice cars. Then she said she’d met this guy and he was so different and maybe she should give him a chance even though he wasn’t her type. I was totally encouraging her and I had no idea she was talking about you.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell you it was me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she thought she’d surprise me or something. You really told her no?”
“Yeah. I got over my crush on her a long time ago. I know she’s your friend, but I don’t know what I ever saw in her.”
“This is going to sound awful, but I wouldn’t wish her on you. I love her dearly—kind of like a sister you have to love even with all their faults—but she’d be terrible for you.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Molly tucked her legs beneath her. “So it must have pissed her off when you said no. I don’t think she’s used to being turned down.”
I winced. “She wasn’t happy. I guess I’ll just add her to the list of women who hate me.”
“Who else hates you?”
“Hazel.”
As soon as I said her name, I regretted it. The Paisley thing had been awkward, but it was Hazel who had my insides twisted into a knot.
“Since when does she hate you? You guys were so cute together.”
“We were?”
“Yeah. I know you said you weren’t dating, but when she was with you at the hospital it really seemed like there was something there. Maybe you should have done your questionnaire together.”
“We did.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Then how could she possibly hate you?”
I ran my fingers through my hair again. “I guess she doesn’t really hate me, although I think this is worse.”
“What’s worse than that?”
“She doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”
Molly looked incensed. “Why not?”
I blew out a breath, then explained what had happened last week. How I’d talked to her about our parents and she’d come back with a stack of research studies. How I’d told her I didn’t want to be her latest experiment. And that she’d told me today it had been a mistake to keep sleeping with me, and she couldn’t be friends anymore either.
“I know I shouldn’t have snapped at her. She was just trying to help. But now it’s like she doesn’t even want to see me.”
“That does seem really harsh. And I’m so surprised. You guys really went through your questionnaire?”
“Yeah.”
“The whole thing?”
“From start to finish.”
Her eyebrows drew in and she hesitated for a long moment. “But how is that possible? Your questionnaire brings people together. It really does create intimacy. It works.”
“Not on me.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I’m the exception. It doesn’t work on me. That questionnaire is responsible for dozens of people falling in love, but for some reason, I’ve never been one of them.”
“Maybe you just haven’t done it with the right person.”
“I don’t think that’s the problem. I’m the problem.”
“How could you possibly be the problem?”
“Do you want something to eat?” I stood up. “I could go get takeout.”
She pointed at the couch. “Don’t even think about it. Why do you think you’re the problem?”
I sat down again. “I don’t know. Maybe all the numbers and calculations and stupid animal facts take up too much space in my brain. There isn’t room left for other skills.”
“That’s ridiculous. There’s room left to love someone.”
“Look, I don’t understand it either. I’m just not built for it, I guess.”
She tilted her head, her expression full of sympathy. “Corban, everyone is built to be loved.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off, glancing away.
“Why did you create that questionnaire?”
I was surprised by her question, but I answered anyway. “When we were testing the algorithms for the dating app, I saw people making snap decisions about potential matches. Passing on someone in an instant with almost no information about them. I wanted to see if there was a better way to bring people together.”
“Yeah, I know this story. You did that thing you do where you learn everything there is to know about something. You did a bunch of research and gathered data. You tested it and refined it and along the way, you became a cute little scientific matchmaker. I know all that. I’m one of your success stories. But that’s not what I’m asking. Why did this fascinate you so much that you poured everything you have into it?”
I stood up again and started pacing around the room, suddenly too restless to sit still. “Did you know that I went out with Bethany Sanderson in high school?”
“No, when did you go out with Bethany? And what does she have to do with it?”
“Just stay with me. It was senior year. I took her out on one date and when I dropped her off at home, she told me she just wanted to be friends and made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone we’d gone out.”
“Oh my god.”
“Do you know how many girls I’ve dated who’ve basically done the same thing? Maybe not the part about keeping it a secret, that was particularly shitty. But that date with Bethany Sanderson is the story of my life. I meet someone and maybe we like each other enough to date for a while, but eventually it always comes back to that. We should just be friends.”
“Oh, twinkie.”
I kept wandering around the room as I talk
ed. “I’ve never even had a huge breakup. Which is a weird thing to be disappointed about, I know. But no one’s ever felt strongly enough about me for it to end badly. Or to show up at my door asking for another chance. Or run into me a year later and say maybe we made a mistake. No one has ever wanted me enough. And do you want to know the worst part?”
Her eyes were full of sympathy. “What?”
“I’ve never felt that strongly about anyone either. I’ve shrugged off the end of every relationship I’ve ever had because I knew none of them were in love with me. And I wasn’t in love with them. But I’ve never been the kind of guy who wanted to date a ton of different women and never commit. I’m not wired that way.”
“You’re wired to find your person.”
I stopped. “I’m wired to find my goddamn penguin.”
“What?”
“Never mind. The point is, I wanted hope. I spent all that time and energy learning, researching, working with the data, creating the questionnaire, and even changing careers, because every time I had an insight, it gave me hope. Every couple who used my questionnaire and fell in love, every wedding I ever went to—hell, even you and Martin—all of it made me feel like it was possible. If I could crack the code to falling in love and make it work for dozens, even hundreds of other people, maybe someday it would work for me.”
“And it will.”
I sank back onto the couch. “No, it won’t. That’s the thing, Molly. It won’t work for me.”
“How can you believe that?”
“When all the evidence is pointing to one conclusion, at some point you have to quit trying to prove it wrong.”
She got up and moved to the couch beside me. “Corban, there’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t have some inner flaw that makes you fundamentally unlovable. You’re brilliant and funny and kind and really freaking awesome. Any woman who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you.”
I shrugged. “Thanks.”
“But do you think it’s possible that you’re getting in your own way?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you really believe something about yourself, you’re going to act as if it’s true. If you don’t think you can fall in love, or you don’t think anyone can fall in love with you, that’s going to influence how you relate to people.”
I wrinkled my nose at her. She was making sense in a way that was rather uncomfortable.
“Think about it. You grew up assuming everyone was going to think you were weird. Whether or not it was true, you acted like it was. You were shy and quiet. And maybe you missed out on chances for people to get to know the real you because you were too worried about being different.”
“So you’re saying it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“I’m saying that maybe assuming no one will fall in love with you means you aren’t open to it. You miss the signs that it’s happening because you’ve already decided it won’t.”
I pushed my glasses back up my nose. Was she right? Had something been happening between me and Hazel and I’d missed it because I assumed it never would?
She patted my leg. “I’m sorry things are tough right now. You know what might help?”
“What?”
“Baby snuggles.”
She got up and brought a still-sleeping Kate to me. Gently laid her in my arms. And she was right, it did help. A little bit, anyway.
I held my niece while she slept. And even though I still felt shitty about Hazel, at least my weird brain had done something right. I’d helped Molly and Martin get together, and now they had Kate. The tiny human in my arms reminded me that even if the rest of my life never got better, at least I’d always have that.
36
Hazel
“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” ~ Walter Winchell
Friday morning, I sat in a coffee shop a few blocks from my apartment building, nursing a mug of black tea. The atmosphere was cozy, with soft armchairs and tables by the front window. It smelled like fresh coffee with a hint of sweetness from their selection of pastries.
I blew on my tea while I waited for my friends to arrive. The Soggy Seattle Half-Marathon was tomorrow, and we’d all taken the day off. The plan was to rest, hydrate, and eat well so we’d be fully energized and ready to run in the morning.
Specifically, ready to kick the Bedazzled Bitches’ asses in the morning.
I was glad for the reprieve from work, and not just because of the potential benefits to my race day performance. The last several days had been a struggle. I couldn’t avoid Corban. We had to work together too often.
Being near him hurt. A lot.
So I’d put up a wall between us. It was the only thing I could do to protect my heart. I hadn’t been cold or dismissive. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I’d kept things businesslike and avoided being around him unless I had no choice.
Everly and Sophie came into the coffee shop together. Everly’s hair was down and she wore a pretty yellow shirt with jeans and wedge-heeled sandals. Sophie’s floral shirt nipped at her waist and her cropped jeans and sandals showed off bright pink toenails.
We exchanged hugs, as girlfriends were inclined to do, and a few minutes later, Nora arrived. She wore her hair down and was dressed in head-to-toe black. She whipped off her sunglasses and set a shopping bag on my table with a bright smile.
“Are you ladies ready for this?” she asked. “Because I don’t know if you’re ready for this.”
Sophie wiggled her hips and started singing the line to a song about being ready for this jelly—until she bumped her backside into a chair and almost knocked it over.
“Sorry,” she said, scooting the chair back into place. “What are we not ready for?”
Reaching into the bag, Nora pulled out a white tank top and held it up to her chest. “What do you think?”
Everly drew in a quick breath and Sophie squeaked. I pushed my glasses up my nose.
The shirt had a line drawing of a martini glass with the words Dirty Martini Running Club surrounding it in a circle.
“It’s so cute,” Everly said. “I love the pink and blue.”
“Adorable,” Sophie said.
Nora took three more shirts out of the bag and passed one to each of us. “I figured we should look like the sassy badasses we are.”
I held mine up. “I love it.”
“I’m so glad you like them,” Nora said. “I knew you would, they’re darling. But I’m glad anyway. No matter what happens tomorrow, we’ll look fabulous.”
“Hell yes, we will,” Sophie said. “So what do you think, ladies? Are we ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Everly said. “How are you holding up, Hazel? Did your week get any better?”
My shoulders slumped. “Not particularly.”
Nora dropped her shirt back in the bag. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“This is proving to be exceptionally difficult to navigate. I don’t even feel like baking.”
Everly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “Aw, Hazel.”
“I know what you need,” Nora said. “Yoga.”
“Yoga?” Everly asked. “Since when do you take yoga?”
“I take yoga,” Nora said. “Well, only because my boss had me doing a series on alternative yoga studios in Seattle. But trust me, this isn’t ordinary yoga. It’s exactly what she needs right now.”
“Are you sure?” Sophie asked. “We’re supposed to be resting before tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not strenuous. More for relaxation and release.”
“That sounds good,” Everly said. “What do you think, Hazel?”
“A restorative activity is probably a good idea.”
Nora got out her phone. “I’m texting you guys the address. We can all go home to change and meet for their ten-thirty class.”
“What do you mean by alternative yoga?” Everly asked.
Nora smiled. “You’ll see.”
/>
* * *
The four of us stood on the sidewalk outside Rebel Spirit Yoga Studio, clad in ponytails and yoga attire. I tilted my head and read the sign in the window again.
“Rage yoga? Is that a misprint? Rage yoga sounds like an oxymoron.”
Nora slipped her arm through mine and led me inside. “It’s yoga for the rest of us. There’s deep breathing and stretching and all that stuff. But you’re also encouraged to explore your emotional range through things like yelling curse words and punching pillows. Also, there’s alcohol, so it’s obviously the best yoga studio ever.”
I remained skeptical while we signed in at the front desk. It didn’t look like any yoga studio I’d ever been to. Instead of dreamy instrumental music, wispy curtains, and flowing tapestries, rock music played in the background and the space was decorated with wood paneling, industrial metal accents, and wine barrels.
We removed our shoes and Nora showed us where to find yoga mats. Those were typical, as was the smooth wood floor. There were also thick wool blankets stacked on a shelf and various foam blocks for modifications.
And a bar with a selection of alcoholic beverages.
We found a spot in the center of the room and spread out our mats. Three men and six other women filled out the class. Some stood, waiting for the instructor. One of the men and two of the women sat cross-legged on their mats with their eyes closed.
A petite redhead in a black tank top and capris walked out onto the floor. She had a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm and several more decorating other parts of her body. “Welcome, badasses. I’m glad you’re all here today. Do we have any newcomers to class?”
Everly, Sophie, and I raised our hands, as did two other attendees.
“Great, welcome. I’m Kennedy and I’ll be guiding you through your practice today. I’m sure you’ve already guessed this isn’t traditional yoga. Just follow along and only do what you’re comfortable with. But I definitely encourage everyone to stretch themselves, not just physically, but emotionally as well. If you have something to let out, this is a safe place to do it.”
Love According to Science Page 27