No More Terrible Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  “Maybe Seth has a brother?” I offer.

  She laughs. “Maybe. Now, have you tried this?” She points at one of the little pastries on the cake stand.

  “Oh, you’ve got to,” Sophie says, materializing at our table. “They’re new. Bailey came up with the recipe, and I swear they’ll add ten pounds a week to my thighs, they’re that good.”

  I pick one of the little slices up in my fingers and pop it into my mouth. “Mmm.”

  “See?”

  “So good,” I murmur as I relish the flavor.

  “They should be. They’re made of sugar and butter, with added sugar butter. Topped with more sugar and butter,” Sophie says.

  “You can’t go wrong with sugar butter,” Erin says. “Can you take a quick break to chat, Soph?”

  Sophie looks around the room. “Sure. The customers look happy enough, and I need to know how your boundaries thing is working with Alex.”

  I’d told Sophie about what had happened with Alex when she dropped ’round Erin’s and my apartment on Sunday. She agreed the four-point manifesto was the right choice, and she’s been checking in with me through messages ever since.

  “Is he working today?” Erin asks as her eyes flash to mine.

  “Oh, please don’t say he is,” I moan. Did I just say that out loud? The look on both Erin’s and Sophie’s faces tells me I did. “What I meant to say is I see him all the time right now since we’re working together on his exhibition, that’s all.”

  “There hasn’t been any more kissing,” Erin tells Sophie.

  “Oh.” She looks at Erin before adding, “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely,” I confirm. “I hate him, remember? People don’t kiss people they hate. Or at least they shouldn’t. It’s bad for their health.”

  Erin and Sophie share a look.

  Sophie pulls a chair over from an empty table beside us and sits down. “I’ve got to tell you Alex is working for a few hours, Darce. He just arrived.” She jerks her head in the direction of the front door, where I spot the man himself.

  My chest tightens. He’s pushing open the door and taking his long-legged stride across the floor. He turns his head toward us, and our eyes lock for a moment before I give a curt nod and turn away.

  Why did I choose High Tea to bury my concerns in sugar?

  Sophie asks, “How’s it going working with him?”

  “Fine,” I reply as I take another morsel from the cake stand and pop it in my mouth.

  “Do you know how to put an exhibition together?” Erin asks.

  I give a shrug. “Alex seems to think he knows what he’s doing.”

  “He does. He’s exhibited before. Lots, I think,” Sophie says.

  I give a tight-lipped smile. “Good to know.”

  I notice Sophie and Erin share another look, and I furrow my brow as I look between them. “What is going on with you two?”

  Sophie places her elbows on the table. “Tell me something, Darce. How long have we been friends?”

  That’s an odd question. “Sophie, you know how long.”

  “Humor me,” she replies.

  “Ever since Mrs. Matthews put as all in detention on the same day when we were fourteen.”

  “It was like we were our own little Breakfast Club. Only, no Judd Nelson wearing a single, black fingerless glove,” Erin adds.

  “Yeah. What was up with the single glove? And that weird foot bandana?” Sophie asks with a laugh.

  “It was an ’80s thing.” I shrug because everyone knows they made some pretty suspicious fashion choices back then. Frizzy hair, leg warmers, and oversized shoulder pads, anyone?

  “So,” Sophie says, clearly wanting to get back to her point, “that means we’ve been BFFs for over eleven years now.”

  “You know your math. Mrs. Matthews would be proud,” I reply.

  “Eleven years is a long time. A very long time,” Erin says with a philosophical nod. “I bet you could know someone inside and out in that amount of time. Right, Darce?”

  I shoot Sophie a sideways glance. “True.”

  “And everyone knows BFFs tell each other everything. E-ver-y-thing.” Erin carefully sounds out each syllable of the word.

  Sophie nods as she stares at me. “Yup. Everything.”

  I narrow my eyes at my friends. It’s like they’ve rehearsed this conversation, decided who’s going to say what, and are now delivering it to me. It’s beyond strange. “You girls are acting weird. What’s this all about?”

  “Nothing specific. Not unless there’s something you think you might have missed telling us about yourself? Something that might bear some relevance to certain people now?” Erin says in a suspiciously leading way, and they both look at me intently, waiting for my response.

  “Like, say, back in high school, to choose a timeframe. Totally randomly, of course.” This from Sophie.

  “I have no clue what you two are going on about,” I say in utter exasperation. “Can’t a girl enjoy her sneaky high tea in peace when she should be at work?”

  “Of course you can, Darcy,” Erin says kindly.

  Sophie has another stab at whatever the heck they’re trying to get at. “Is there any piece of information we should know about . . . you?” she asks.

  They both continue to stare at me in expectation. And then it dawns on me. They have rehearsed this conversation, they have decided who’s going to say what, and they are now delivering it to me.

  I place my cup on its saucer once more, cross my arms, and lean back in my seat. “Okay, you two. What’s this little show of yours really all about?”

  “Nothing specific,” Erin repeats with that meaningful look on her face.

  This is getting silly now.

  “Erin Andrews, you have always been the worst liar on the face of the planet. Will one of you please spill the beans?” I glare at them both.

  I can be quite direct and bossy when I want to be. Although I don’t pull it out very often, I impress even myself at times. It can really come in handy with Larissa, like when she thought we could increase our sense of spiritual calm by dying our hair blue to match our blue office. I had to explain to her that blue hair is for pop divas and the elderly, and since we are neither of those, we should all stick with our current natural looks. (Well, some are more natural than others, but that’s all I’ll say on the subject of Larissa’s completely “born with it” blonde locks.)

  Sophie lays her hands on the table, palms down. “All right. We were hoping you would volunteer the info, but since you’re clearly playing dumb, I guess we’ll cut to the chase.”

  “What happened with Alex back in high school?” Erin asks.

  My heart begins to race as a sudden coldness worms its way around inside my core. “Nothing in particular,” I respond with faux confidence.

  “Nothing in particular?” Sophie questions. “Really? Because we think something in particular did happen. Something that you’re not telling us about. And it’s clearly still an issue for you now.”

  I wave my hand in the air. “High school was a long time ago. Move on, girls. I have.”

  “Aha!” Erin points a finger at me. “You’ve moved on from the thing that happened between you and Alex.” Her eyes are bright because she thinks she’s caught me out. Which she kind of has.

  The truth is, Erin’s totally right. Something did happen between Alex and me in high school, and it’s something I’d really rather forget about.

  I throw my eyes skyward. “There’s nothing to tell. Alex is . . . fine.”

  “Wow. What every guy wants to be called: ‘fine,’” a distinctly male voice says at my side.

  I don’t need to turn around to know exactly who it is. Besides the fact about ninety percent of High Tea’s clientele is female, it’s just my luck to encounter him once again. Because Alex is everywhere in my life right now, and it’s beginning to drive me slowly (and probably deliberately on his part) insane.

  With my lips dr
awn in a line, I tilt my head up to look at him. “Alex.”

  He’s smirking at me with a knowing look on his face.

  Knowing? What does he know? Nothing, that’s what. Jerk.

  “Darcy,” he replies in that irritating tone of his.

  He’s everywhere. Everywhere. With that smug smirk on his face, I half expect him to jump out of the pantry when I get my morning granola. He might even try to kiss me up against my own kitchen counter, too.

  “Thanks for coming in on short notice, Alex,” Sophie says to him.

  “No worries,” he replies. “I’ll handle things if you want to stay here for a while. You know, to finish talking about whatever it was you were talking about.” He shoots me another knowing smile.

  Ooh, I bet he’s loving this. He knows full well we were talking about him. This is just the type of arrogant, self-absorbed thing that’s so typical of him. But then, I guess he did hear me mention his name, so maybe I’m overreacting? I look up again at his smugly smirking face gazing back at me. Nope, definitely not overreacting.

  “That’d be great, thanks, Alex. You’re awesome,” Sophie replies.

  “I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he replies.

  Neither am I.

  “I’ll see you at the gallery, Darcy,” he says to me, my cheeks instantly heating up. “Four o’clock still suit you? It’s when I finish up here.”

  With my friends’ gazes fixed firmly on my face, I reply, “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He shoots us all his dazzling (read: cocky) smile before he turns and leaves.

  “Darcy Evans, I do believe you are blushing,” Erin says, which of course only makes me blush so much more. Because that’s what happens when people are told they’re blushing. Your cheeks turn positively nuclear. So not helpful.

  I glance at Alex’s retreating figure and turn back to my friends. “For the record, I’m only blushing because he busted us talking about him.”

  “Sure,” Sophie replies as Erin says, “Totally.” Neither of them looks the least bit convinced.

  “So?” Sophie leads. “Tell us about high school.”

  They’re not giving up on this. I twist my mouth. “It’s not a big deal. It was nothing, really.”

  “It was clearly something or you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do now,” Sophie observes.

  “He’s not my kind of person, that’s all,” I reply.

  Erin’s eyes light up. “Talented, fun, smart, and handsome guys aren’t your type, huh?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. I give in. You’re obviously going to pester me about this.”

  “Because we’re your BFFs and we care about you,” Erin says.

  I roll my eyes. “Sure. Something like that.”

  I can tell both of my friends are working hard at restraining their excitement as they lean in closer to me. I steel myself, ready to tell the story I’ve never told.

  Chapter 16

  “Well?” Erin says from across the table.

  I take a sip of my tea and let out a breath. “Back in high school, Alex . . . well, he humiliated me.”

  “What happened?” Sophie asks, her voice soft.

  “When I first met him, I thought he was cute. You know, in an older guy kind of way. I was fourteen, he was sixteen. He was much worldlier than me.”

  “Two years does make a big difference when you’re a teenager,” Erin says.

  “Exactly. Anyway, I got a bit of a crush on him. A huge one, really.” I remember the feeling as if it all happened yesterday. The way I’d get a thrill just to hear someone mention his name, the way I’d see him with his friends across from me at lunch, hoping, praying he’d look my way. I was totally at his mercy, and all I wanted was his attention on me, even just for a split second.

  “I told Erin just last week that I thought you must have had a thing for him back then!” Sophie says in excitement. “Didn’t I say that, Erin?”

  “To be fair, it’s not exactly a giant leap, Soph,” Erin says. “Darcy’s a girl, Alex is a guy, both at the same high school together. You do the math. What I want to know is how we didn’t know about this crush at the time.”

  I shrug. “I guess I was embarrassed. He was Sophie’s cousin, and it was all so overwhelming. Teenage crushes always are.”

  “Remember that crush I had on Brandon Richardson?” Erin says. “I thought he was amazing. I would have taken a bullet for him.”

  “You would?” I question.

  “Well, in the leg maybe,” she replies.

  “You got to date him when you were sixteen, Erin, so your crush wasn’t unrequited,” Sophie explains. “Not like yours, Darcy, right?” Her features change. “Unless you’re going to tell us you secretly dated him or something?”

  “My crush was definitely unrequited. At least I thought it was until I saw him at the mall one Saturday afternoon. I was with my mom, and he was there hanging out with a bunch of friends, kids I recognized from school. I remember what he was wearing like it was yesterday: a light blue open shirt over a white T and a necklace.” I smile at the memory. That whole look he was sporting was so hot back then. “He was leaning up against a pillar down by the fountain, like he was James Dean or something.”

  “I can imagine,” Sophie says with a chortle. “He was super cool back in the day.”

  “Mom had to go buy something, so I told her I’d grab an ice cream and meet her later. That’s when I saw him again, at the ice cream parlor, only this time he was alone.” I remember the feeling of standing near him, closer than I’d ever been. It was nerve-wracking and utterly exciting at the same time. “I decided to be brave and move so he’d see me, and when he did, I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then, he came over and asked me my name, and he asked me where I went to school. I told him, and he said he recognized me, but even the dumb fourteen-year-old version of myself knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

  “He told me I was pretty, and I thought I would die from happiness right there in the ice cream parlor. I remember looking up at him and thinking he was the absolute perfect guy. I was so freaking nervous, but I knew this was my shot with him.”

  Both of my friends are sitting on the edges of their seats.

  “What happened?” Sophie asks.

  “He kissed me,” I state simply.

  “He did?” Erin says in surprise. “Alex kissed you at an ice cream parlor.”

  “Yup,” I reply. “ I never did get that ice cream.”

  Sophie shakes her head, her eyes wide. “How did we not know this?” she says to Erin. “You’re our BFF, and he’s my cousin.”

  “You kept that secret well, girl,” Erin says.

  I cast my eyes down. “The thing is, right afterwards, Cora Huntington turned up, and he left me standing there, looking like a total idiot. I remember him saying an extremely un-heartfelt sorry and whisking her and her perfect ten body and gorgeous curly hair away.” My insides twist at the memory of the feeling of utter humiliation.

  “Oh, no,” Erin winces. “Bad form, Alex.”

  “What a dick,” Sophie says, not beating about the bush. She holds her hands up in the stop sign. “I can say it because he’s my cousin.”

  “So, now you know,” I say with a shrug. “The secret I’ve kept from you all this time.”

  “Oh, honey. We all had crushes back then, but he did not treat you well,” Erin says. “On the plus side, at least you got to kiss an older, more experienced guy. That counted for a lot when we were that age.”

  I shake my head. “You’re looking for the silver lining here, and I’m not sure there is one.”

  Erin shrugs. “I guess I am. Was it a good kiss?”

  The memory of it fills my brain. When he reached out and gently cupped my face in his hands, leaned down, and brushed his lips against mine. I knew beyond a whisper of a doubt it was love. Big love. And here he was, finally noticing me, finally showing me that he felt the same way, too.

  Idiot, right? Complete and utt
er idiot. He was just a teenage boy who happened to know how to give a girl a kiss. And I was the silly, romantic girl who lapped it all up.

  My cheeks heat up. “It was a good kiss. You know, for a kiss with a teenage boy.” Instantly, my mind flashes to the kiss we shared at the café kitchen. But I can’t go there. I’m not going there.

  Erin prods me in the arm. “OMG, girl. You’re blushing about a kiss from years ago!”

  “It was my first kiss.” I twist my hands in my lap.

  Erin’s eyes grow huge. “Alex Walsh gave you your first-ever kiss?”

  I bite on the inside of my lip and nod. That big moment in a girl’s life, when she gets her first ever romantic kiss, and mine had to be with a guy like Alex.

  Sophie knits her brows together. “But you always told us that your first was with Gavin the Tongue.”

  “OMG, Gavin the Tongue! I forgot about that guy,” Erin says. “What was with that guy and his tongue?”

  I shudder at the memory. “I think someone told him the way to kiss a girl is to ram it in as far as it can go and say a little prayer she’ll like it.”

  Sophie lets out a light laugh and groans. “Euw.”

  Erin places her hand on my arm. “I always felt bad for you that Gavin the Tongue was the first guy you ever kissed. Now I don’t have to.”

  “I guess,” I reply.

  “What happened after that?” Erin asks.

  I look down at my hands in my lap as my familiar friend Mortification alights inside. “I found him by that burger place by the supermarket and asked him why he kissed me if he was with Cora Huntington. He told me I was a nice kid but that he wanted to be with ‘a woman.’” I use air quotes.

  Erin’s eyes are like saucers. “He seriously said that?” she asks, and I nod.

  Sophie shakes her head as she repeats, “What a dick.”

  I toss my hair and paste on a smile. “So, now you both know. My deepest darkest secret is that my first kiss was with a guy who treated me like I was nothing.”

  “Babe, I’m so sorry,” Erin says. “What a jerk. No wonder you’ve hated him all this time.”

  Sophie is clearly angry. “Wait until I get my hands on him. I’ll tell Auntie Margie, that’s what I’ll do. She’ll deal with him, believe me. Us Irish can be tough when we need to be.”