No More Terrible Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  He gives me a slow nod, his jaw taut.

  He’s doing this to me again? He’s leaving me for another girl? Suddenly, I feel like a complete and utter fool. Here I was, declaring my feelings for him, falling into his willing arms, expecting a fairy tale ending. But I’m just a diversion to him, aren’t I? Someone fun to fool around with and have a good time.

  I’m not the real deal, not for him.

  “So that’s it?” I ask. “We’re over? You’re not coming to your exhibition? You’re just . . . taking off.” I mimic a plane taking off into the sky with my hand.

  “I can’t be in that room with all those memories. Not now.”

  “But you’ve been in that room all week. With me. In fact, you kissed me in front of those memories, Alex, don’t you remember? Many, many times.” There’s a nasty edge to my voice now, but I don’t care. I feel like such an idiot allowing this to happen.

  That little voice in the back of my head tells me, “I told you so.”

  Alex hangs his head. “I know,” he murmurs. He stares at me for an uncomfortable moment. “Darcy, I never meant to hurt you.”

  I raise my chin and toss my hair. “No, Alex, I’m sure you didn’t. Not in high school, and not now. But the thing is, you did.”

  Way to go, Darce. Pick the guy you hate, work out that really, you’ve always loved him, but make sure he’s in love with someone else first for maximum effect.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeats before he slowly turns away from me and walks down the darkened street.

  I stand and watch him leave, tears rolling down my cheeks, my heart breaking in two.

  It’s history repeating itself. At fourteen and now again at twenty-five. And you know what? I bet history is having a good old laugh at my expense. Only this time, it’s so much worse than in high school. This time, I let him into my heart, and I can’t ever imagine forgiving him for what he’s done.

  Chapter 23

  Somehow, I manage to get through the gallery opening and then stumble through the next few days. I’m in some kind of emotionless fog. I’m numb. It’s all too much for me to comprehend. Four wonderful days together and then . . . nothing. Just a long, long silence stretching out before me.

  I read somewhere that to stop thinking unhelpful thoughts, you need to divert yourself away from them every time they crop up. Apparently, it’s all about neural pathways or something. So, anytime my mind turns to Alex, I quickly think of something far better, like having my fingernails pulled out one by one, or having my bikini line waxed by a blindfolded technician. Both much more pleasant things than thinking about him and what he did.

  I tried to carry on with my job as though nothing had happened, as though my world hadn’t been turned on its head. But in the end, Larissa had someone come in and read my aura, and with a shocked expression on her face, she sent me home immediately. Apparently, a pitch-black aura with lightning rods poking out in all directions and monsoon-like rain falling on your head is not a good thing.

  So, here I sit on the sofa, watching Lorelai drink endless cups of coffee in in yet another episode of Gilmore Girls, stewing in empty ice cream tubs and chocolate wrappers, trying my best not to succumb to the huge gulf of sadness that continually threatens to swallow me whole.

  “How are you feeling, Darce?” Erin says with a hopeful look on her face. It’s been a week since the gallery opening, and Erin has been tiptoeing around me, delivering my junk food and listening to me when I need to talk. She’s been the best roommate and the best BFF.

  I look up at her from my spot on the sofa and refocus my eyes. I wonder if there’s such a thing as “Netflix Eyes,” an affliction that results in the inability to focus on anything further away than your screen? I bet there is, and if it’s not already a thing, I’m calling it.

  “Hey,” I mumble in greeting before I return my attention to Lorelai and Rory.

  “Sophie’s here,” Erin continues and I’m forced to drag my eyes away from the screen once more to look at my other BFF. Sophie is holding a tub of something in her hands and looking down at me with soft eyes.

  “Oh, Darce,” she says. She sits down next to me and pulls me into a sideways hug. It’s angular and weird, but I know she’s only trying to show she cares.

  I paste on a smile, although I know I looked wretched. “Hey, Soph.”

  Sophie’s sent me about a gazillion messages and calls and silly memes to make me smile over the last week (didn’t work), and she’s visited most nights. Friends, people. That’s where it’s at. Forget the futile, painful search for love. Friends are our lifeblood, our sisters, there for us when we’re down and out.

  “I brought you some of those buttery slices you like so much from High Tea.” She pushes away some empty wrappers and places the tub on the coffee table. “How are you doing? Not so good?” she ventures.

  Erin sits on one of the chairs opposite us and answers for me. “I don’t think you’ve budged from this sofa other than to go to the bathroom for days, right, babe?”

  I lift one shoulder in a small shrug. It’s probably barely perceptible to the naked eye, but I don’t have the energy to put into it. “I forgot how good Gilmore Girls is.”

  “How could you have forgotten? You and Erin watch that show all the time,” Sophie replies with a smile.

  “I don’t know.” Do we watch Gilmore Girls all the time? Life before Alex feels like a distant blur to me right now. Which is crazy, right? It was really only four days we were together. That’s not even a week. But then, he had been in my head and my heart for so much longer.

  “Well. I’m here to get you out of the house. I know it’s not our usual night for doing this, but I need you to go throw on a cute outfit and your best pair of shoes.”

  Why the heck would I want to go doing something like that? The thought of wearing anything other than my PJs is too daunting to contemplate. I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

  “No you don’t,” Sophie says with a shake of her head. “We’re not taking no for an answer. We’re going to Jojo’s!” she announces as though it’s the most amazing idea she’s ever had, when really, it’s the exact opposite.

  I blink at her, my mouth open. “You want me to sing karaoke?”

  “We do,” Erin confirms.

  It’s the most preposterous thing I’ve heard since . . . well, since Alex told me he loved me up on the top of Mt. Eden. But there’s no way I’m thinking about Alex. Quick! I need another topic, fast. Athlete’s foot burning a hole in my toes . . . My hair getting singed by a fire and I’ve got to have it all shaved off . . . One of those painful boil-type pimples on the end of my nose, making me look like a clown . . . Yes, a nose boil. That ought to do it.

  “Singing karaoke is exactly what we’re saying,” Sophie replies excitedly. “Come on, Darcy. It’ll be fun!”

  I shake my head. “No way.”

  “Please?” Sophie says, doing her best impression of a cute toddler asking for more candy.

  I let out a sigh and shake my head again. “I can’t face it.”

  Erin chimes in with, “Oh, come on, girl. You need to get off this sofa sometime, and you love karaoke.”

  “We’re both going, aren’t we, Erin?” Sophie asks, and Erin nods. “And we want you there. No, forget that. We need you there. Say you will, Darce.” She pauses before adding “Please?” again.

  I look at her hopeful face. “I don’t know, you guys.”

  “That sounds like there might be a ‘yes’ lurking in there,” Erin says hopefully. Then she pulls out her ace card. “I don’t know about you, but I feel a Dancing Queen moment coming on,” she adds, baiting me with my favorite ABBA song.

  I harrumph. “I’m in a more The Winner Takes It All moment over here. And newsflash: I’m not the winner.”

  “No talking like that,” Sophie says briskly as she wrangles me out of my spot. I try to protest, but she’s not listening, and she’s a lot stronger than me, too. “It’s time to get your happy ABBA on, girl. Go, get dre
ssed. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” she replies, sounding exactly like my mom.

  “Okay, I’m going,” I reply.

  “Getting out will do you so much good,” Erin adds.

  I am not convinced. “Maybe it will.”

  “That’s the attitude,” Sophie says.

  “Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone new and forget all about Alex.” My friends look at me in a peculiar way and I say, “I don’t mean it. I never want to date anyone ever again.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re in an Uber on our way to Jojo’s, and I’m feeling as excited about the prospect of singing karaoke as I am about having a colonoscopy. (Not that I’m having a colonoscopy, of course, but you know, if I ever did. They sound completely horrible.)

  At Jojo’s, Sophie insists on buying us a marginally better bottle of fake champagne than we usually get on our Saturday night outings.

  “You being here is a big moment, Darce, and I think we need to mark it,” she says as we take our seats at a table near the stage. “And anyway, it was only $11.00 more than our usual bottle.”

  “No expense spared,” Erin says with a sweep of her hands.

  I crack a smile, but it lasts less than a second.

  Sophie pours our drinks. “To Darcy.” She lifts her glass. “She may be down, but she’s not out, and we love her.”

  “Yes, we do,” Erin echoes.

  We clink glasses, and I take a sip. “You two are the best friends I could ever have.” Tears well up in my eyes, and I sniff them back.

  “We know,” Sophie says with a wink.

  Erin punches some numbers into the console. “Right. We are all set.” She beams at me ,and I can’t help but smile back. My love life might be a complete joke, but I’ve got my girls, and I’ve got the pop genius of ABBA.

  Before long, we’ve polished off the first bottle, and we’re onto our second, although we’re back on the $11.00 cheaper variety, as none of us are exactly rolling in cash.

  Erin grins at me as our names are announced for the next song. “We’re up. It’s ABBA time, girlfriend!”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll get up and sing with you as long as you promise never to call me ‘girlfriend’ again.”

  By now, Erin’s on her feet, grinning down at me. “Deal.” She offers me her hand, I take it, and she hauls me out of my chair.

  Up on the stage, the sound of Benny running his fingers down the piano signals the start of the song, and it only takes me a few seconds to push enough of my malaise firmly from my mind and surrender myself to the musical genius of ABBA. Singing ABBA songs at Jojo’s is something Erin and I love to do. Sophie joins us sometimes, but we all know she’s not exactly gifted in the singing department, and she’s the first to admit it (howler monkey, remember?). But up on the stage tonight, we get lost in the music, doing the moves, singing together, totally hamming it up.

  By the time we’re done and the audience has applauded, I almost feel like the old Darcy, the version before Alex came back into my life and blew it all up. The version I so desperately want to be once more.

  As I take my seat, Sophie announces that she needs to visit the ladies room, and Erin decides to go with her.

  “But you only just went when we got here,” I say to Erin.

  “What can I say? Peanut bladder,” she replies with a shrug.

  “Okay. See you soon.” I pick up my glass and take a sip as my friends make their way through the tables. I sit and watch the next singer do a decent job of a Shawn Mendez hit, and a moment later, the girls arrive back at the table.

  “Hey, this guy’s not too shabby,” I say as I turn to face them.

  Only it’s not my friends.

  It’s Alex.

  Alex is suddenly here, appearing as though from thin air, standing in front of me at Jojo’s Karaoke.

  He’s looking at me with electric eyes. “Darcy,” he says with a look of such vulnerability that my insides twist up, and I’ve got to force myself to hold his gaze. Because even if I’m blindsided by his unexpected appearance, there’s no way I’m letting him know how much him being here has thrown me. No way.

  I clench my jaw. “What are you doing here?”

  Completely uninvited, he pulls a chair out from the table and sits down next to me. I stiffen in my seat but I do not move. Jojo’s is my place, and there’s no way I’m giving it up for the likes of Alex Walsh.

  “Darcy, I am so sorry.” He reaches for my hand, and I snatch it away.

  “You’re sorry?” I question as my anger bubbles up inside.

  “I know I hurt you. I was such an idiot. What I did to you was inexcusable, and all I can hope is that somehow you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “You want me to forgive you?” I scoff. “Forgive you for running out on me, on the gallery opening, on all of it?”

  He leans in toward me, his elbows on his knees. “Darcy, I know I messed up, really bad. Seeing all those images together at one time?” He looks down and shakes his head. “It made me think I’d left the life I wanted behind. When I left that night of the opening, I went to see Chetana. I wanted to tell her—”

  “You went to India?” I ask, my jaw dropping to the table.

  He nods.

  I cross my arms and glare at him. “I suppose Chetana told you to go jump off a cliff, did she?”

  “She didn’t tell me to do anything. You see, Darcy, by the time I got to Delhi, I already knew I’d made a big mistake.”

  “You didn’t see her?” My voice is breathless, and I do my best to ignore the small glimmer of hope in my heart.

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t need to.”

  “Because you found out she was already married?” I hold my breath.

  “I have no clue if she’s married or not. And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

  My heart is thumping so hard, I can barely hear myself speak when I say, “You were wrong?”

  He nods his head, his intense eyes boring holes in my skull. “I saw a girl on the plane. She must have been only about ten or so. She was holding this notebook. Do you know what it had on the cover?” he asks, and I shake my head. “A Labrador puppy.”

  I lift my chin. “She has good taste.”

  His lips lift into a smile, and I feel my heart soften a fraction. “Seeing that girl’s notebook did something to me. It made me realize that I didn’t love Chetana. Seeing that girl’s notebook told me that it’s you, Darcy. It’s you.”

  “You hurt me,” I state simply, mortified that my lip begins to tremble and my throat tightens, tears threatening to fall. “You don’t do something like that to someone you love.”

  He has the good sense to look ashamed. “I know.”

  “You did the same thing you did to me in high school. You chose someone else over me.”

  He bites his lip and nods. “I know I did, and I want to spend a lifetime making it up to you.” He’s gazing at me with such love in his eyes, my heart skips a beat, maybe more. I couldn’t tell you. “If you’ll let me,” he adds timidly. “Please let me. I-I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I love you so, so much.”

  His words are like an explosion of sunshine. I stare at him, truly lost for words. He’s sorry. He loves me. He wants to be with me.

  “Darcy?” he says, peering at me questioningly. “Would you ever consider taking me back?”

  I lift my eyes to his. His face is creased in worry, and when our gazes lock, hope fills his eyes. I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows at him. “You’re going to have to do better than that. You’ll need to show me.”

  “Show you?”

  “You heard me, Alex. Words are cheap.”

  I know I’m being difficult here, but come on! This guy told me he loved me and then took off because he thought he was love with another girl. I’m not about to go throwing myself into his arms with reckless abandon. I already did that with him, and
I got burned.

  The look on his face morphs from incredulity to something else. “Okay. Challenge accepted. I will show you how much I love you, Darcy Evans, and then you’ll know it, too.”

  I lift my chin. “Good.”

  He beams at me as though he’s got some wonderful secret only he knows about. “Great.”

  I raise my hands in the air. “I’m sitting here, ready to be shown.”

  To my surprise, he gets up from his seat. “Hold that thought,” he says before he turns and walks away.

  I stare at his retreating figure. What the heck is he playing at? That’s it? He’s just leaving? Well, if that’s the way he wants it, then two can play that game. I stand up and collect my purse as Erin and Sophie arrive back at the table.

  “Where are you going?” Erin says in surprise.

  “Home,” I reply.

  “But didn’t you have a good conversation with . . . someone?” Sophie asks.

  “No one in particular, right, Soph?” Erin says.

  “No. Just anyone, really.”

  I look from Erin to Sophie and back again. “Did you know about Alex coming here tonight?”

  They both look abashed.

  Exasperated, I say, “Was this some sort of plan or something?”

  Sophie talks first. “Look, he called me and asked me to help him. Erin and I talked about it and agreed. You’ve been so sad since he left, and we know how you feel about him.”

  My eyebrows practically jump to my hairline. “You conspired with Alex.”

  “You could look it like that, I suppose,” Sophie replies uncertainly, her eyes darting to Erin. “We thought it was romantic.”

  Erin nods. “We did. He’s genuine, babe. Really, he is.”

  I clench my teeth. So many emotions swirl around in a giant whirlpool inside. Anger, euphoria, love, hurt.

  “Darce?” Erin says, peering at me.

  I let out a sigh. “I know you two were only trying to help.”

  Their faces relax.

  “So? What did he say?” Erin asks. She sits down and pats the seat of my chair.