by Staci Hart
Maggie shook her head. “I’ve dated two guys ever — Jimmy, who never kept it in his pants, and Cooper. I am not at all equipped to weigh in on this.”
I smiled at her. “The only equipment you need is a vagina, and you have one of those.”
Lily scrolled through, holding my phone out so we could all see. Patrick seemed to know what we were doing — I could feel him every single time he looked over. Something was different with him. I mean, he’d been staring at me from the other side of this bar for months, but now it was different. Deeper. Like I could feel him calling me.
He was like a sexy tractor beam. So I did exactly what I could — I ignore him. Okay, I pretended to ignore him. I may have also stuck my butt out at what I thought might be the sexiest angle and been overly conscious of my hands, but whatever.
“Oh,” Ellie said, pointing at the screen. “Hang on, go back up. Who’s this guy? DesignerDan?”
“No more artists,” I said flatly.
Lily chuckled. “What about KingTaco?” She clicked on his profile.
“Points for the screen name, but working out is listed as a hobby.”
“That just means he’s probably got abs. I mean, they all work out.” Lily nodded at the boys.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, yeah, but they wouldn’t list it as a hobby. Also, he says he’s looking for ‘Someone who’s awesome.’ Next.”
Astrid snickered. “BavarianCream? There are too many jokes to even list.”
Lily squinted at the screen. “Hrywshs? Is that like, hairy wishes? Hurry washes?”
“Heinous wooshes?” I added.
“I’m going with hairy something. His beard connects with his chest hair.” Ellie pointed to his picture with her face jacked.
Lily laughed. “Dude, look at YankeeBro.”
My nose wrinkled. “Too real. Is he wearing a Ed Hardy shirt? I thought those went out of style like six years ago.”
Astrid shook her head. “Like, he actually thought that was cool. He put the word bro in his screename and was like, ‘Nailed it.’ I’d think it was clever if it was a joke, but the guy has Swarovski crystals on his shirt.”
Lily kept swiping with a confused look on her face. “Why are there so many pictures of guys with dogs?”
“I automatically assume those guys are players,” I said.
She laughed. “You are such a cynic. What about this one? DollarsAndSense?” She turned the screen.
I bobbed my head. “Cute, and points for word play, but that bow tie is a no.”
Lily frowned. “What’s wrong with his bow tie?”
“It makes him look like he’s twelve. It’s not like when, I don’t know, say Patrick wears one.”
Astrid nodded. “Oh, yeah. There’s not much that can top that. The bar’s too high.”
“So high,” I added with a laugh. “What about that one?”
Markalark’s profile picture was gorgeous — the light streaming in from a window as he looked down at his fingers on the neck of his guitar. He was a musician without any morbid hobbies, or at least nothing he wrote about on his profile, which the four of us combed over.
Lily raised a brow. “Are you sure you want to give a musician a shot? I thought you swore them off forever after Jack.”
I shrugged. “I’d give him a coffee date to prove me wrong.”
She handed me my phone, smiling. “Message him.”
I took it and fired off a message, trying not to feel nervous, figuring I could keep searching. SkateTreason crossed my mind, that hot skater boy I’d found the other day, but before I could look him up, my phone buzzed in my hand.
I gaped. “Holy shit, he already responded.”
“Bam,” Ellie said, breaking open her hand like she had thrown a bomb.
Hey, Rose. Nice to meet you. I’m available to hang whenever. When are you free?
“He wants to know when I’m free. What do I say?”
Astrid picked up her gin. “You don’t want him to think you’re desperate, but it sucks to wait to something that’s not a sure thing, too.”
I chewed my lip. “So tomorrow’s too soon?”
Ellie shrugged. “Fuck it, I say. Not too soon at all.”
What’s your day like tomorrow? I asked. I know of a great coffee shop nearby.
My phone buzzed a second later. Perfect. Just let me know the address and time, and I’ll be there.
My cheeks were hot, an involuntary smile on my lips. “It’s on for tomorrow.”
Lily grinned eagerly. “Are you excited? You look excited.”
“I am. I mean, anything has to be better than Serial Killer Steve.”
“Maybe Music Mark will be a hit,” Maggie said, smiling before sipping her bourbon.
I glanced over at Patrick, meeting his shadowed eyes. “We can hope.”
11
EVENTUALLY
Patrick
MAGGIE, COOPER, AND ASTRID LEFT, but the rest of us closed down the bar, waited for Rose to clean up, all while my mind rolled over what my next move would be. I felt ambitious, maybe a little foolhardy, unwavered by the girls swiping through a dating app, aside from the flashes of jealousy. I’d resisted the urge to pull a movie scene hero move and hop the bar to kiss some sense into her, ignoring the visions of her being with another man — in any sense of the word — because I knew she’d come back to me if I was patient. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.
The way she looked at me this morning triggered something in me, the briefest glimmer of what she’d been hiding behind a wall of apathy that told me she still felt it. I’d calmed down from my cavalier high, knowing I couldn’t be rash or hasty, as much as I wanted to be. So, slow and steady it would be. The more time that passed, the more the wall would crumble until it was gone.
It was late, the bar locked and dark behind us, when we found ourselves walking up broadway, pizza in hand.
“Mmm,” Ellie groaned, mouth full. “The pizza here is way better, but I still would have preferred a taco truck.”
Rose nodded. “Seriously, finding good tacos in New York is impossible. I’ve been looking for years. There’s one that’s amazing, but it’s in Union Square. No way am I taking the train seventy blocks to Midtown just for tacos, no matter how bad I want them.”
Lily chuckled, angling her pizza for a bite. “May as well be in Jersey.”
“Or Brooklyn,” West added.
“I dunno,” I said. “Pizza is the best drunk food. It’s got everything you need — carbs, dairy, protein. Grease. Can’t do without that.”
Rose smiled at me. “Chase it with a glass of water and some ibuprofen and you’re hangover free.”
I smiled back and took a bite, wishing I hadn’t refused sleeping on her couch. Maybe there was still a way back over tonight. She didn’t want me to stay. No, it wasn’t that — I could see it in her face. She was afraid to let me stay. Afraid she’d give up any more of her resolve than she already had.
When we reached Rose’s door, Lily and West said their goodbyes, walking on to our place. Their place. West’s place? I didn’t even know anymore. I hung back, waiting for the girls to get inside.
Ellie headed straight to her room with a wave over her shoulder, and Rose turned to me as she pulled her key out of the lock and stuffed her hands in the pocket of her leather jacket.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
I looked into her eyes, trying to decipher whatever was behind them, though it was just beyond me. I wanted to tell her I wanted to stay forever. I wanted to tell her I needed her. I wanted to touch her lips and tell her that she was mine, and I was hers. But I smiled, not saying what I wanted to. Just like old times.
Slow and steady.
“I’ll survive. See you around, Rose.”
She nodded, lips parted, her eyes on mine like she understood on some level, a level she wasn’t willing to acknowledge. “All right, Tricky.”
I backed away, watching her as she closed her door, and then I turned for m
y apartment.
West and Lily were still shuffling around the living room. He looked over his shoulder as sat on the couch, bending to untie his shoes. I took a seat in the armchair, propping my feet on the coffee table with a sigh.
“It’s been too long since everyone came out. That was nice.” Lily set her bag down on the table and sat next to West, smiling at me conspiratorially. “So are you gonna tell us what happened with Rose last night?”
West leaned back and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into him as they settled into the couch with a brow raised. “Uh, what’s this?”
I smirked. “What’d Rose say?”
“Well, she didn’t give up much, but given how flustered she was and how many times she said it wasn’t a big deal, I’m guessing it was definitely a big deal.”
“It was accidental. We were just hanging out and fell asleep, but when we woke up …” I looked at the bookshelf across the room, packed with books two layers deep and any way they could fit. “There’s a chance for me.”
Lily’s cheeks were flushed, her smile bright. “It’s kind of what I’ve been telling you. There’s absolutely a chance for you. Are you going to take it?”
I met her eyes. “I have to.”
“Well, what the hell are you doing over here then? Get back over there.”
I chuckled. “As much as I want to just go over there and get her, you and I both know she’s not ready for that.”
She wrinkled her nose. “No, probably not. Whats your plan?”
I sighed and stretched. “I haven’t figured it out yet. I definitely think I need to be over there as much as possible — it’s the only only way I’m going to get her to trust me. But I gave up your bed to Ellie, and … I don’t know. I knew she wanted me to try to not sleep on her couch, so here I am.”
“Use us as an excuse,” Lily said.
I raised a brow.
She grinned as she sat up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Seriously. That’s been the excuse all this time, right? Well, get back over there and tell her we’re just too loud and horny and inconsiderate for you to sleep here.”
“Like, right now?” I asked, thinking of three reasons off the top of my head that going over there at that moment was a terrible idea.
“No, not right now.” She waved a hand. “Not until she’s asleep. It won’t be long — it’s so late. So in like a half-hour, just go over there and crash. Problem solved.”
West laughed. “Aren’t we just a bunch of conspirators?”
Lily shrugged and hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “I mean, West and I can go in there and get crazy if you need us to.”
I put out a hand. “Yeah, no. I’m good.” I paused, thinking it over, weighing it out.
Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God. Just do it. Come here, West. Tricky needs motivation. Stick your tongue down my throat.” She grabbed his face comically and pulled, smushing her lips against his, making exaggerated moaning noises. West laughed against her mouth.
I chuckled, shaking my head at them. “All right, all right. I’ll go.”
Lily stopped being gross and smiled, looking proud of herself. “I’m happy for you, Tricky. I hope it works.”
I smiled back as I stood. “Me too. ‘Night, guys.”
“‘Night,” they called after me as I headed into my room.
I turned on the lamp next to my bed, an island of soft light in the dark as I pulled off my jacket. Untied my boots. Unbuttoned my shirt and tugged off my jeans. And then I slipped into bed, sinking into the comfort of my own sheets, my own pillow.
Rose had another date tomorrow, and I wasn’t even ashamed to say that I hoped it was a disaster. I hoped it bought me more time. Brought her closer to me. Maybe this year I’d get what I wanted for my birthday. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining it — the first kiss, the first touch, the feeling of her in my arms.
I think I drifted off for a moment because when I opened my eyes, the light was a little too bright, my body heavy as I dragged it out of bed. I wrapped myself in my comforter and shuffled down the hall to Rose’s, laying down on her couch that was a little too short to really be comfortable, staring into the dark room, though everything came into focus eventually.
Eventually.
The word defined so much of my life. Eventually she’d come around in one way or another. Eventually I’d need to figure out what to do with myself. Eventually, I’d need to get the girl or move on. But we were all caught in a transition, and the only way out was time. The dice were in the air, and we were all waiting for them to hit the table and roll to see if we’d won or lost.
12
JOAN JETT
Rose
I LEANED OVER THE COUNTER in the bathroom the next afternoon, lips stretched in an O as I lined my them in my favorite shade of red: Bloody Valentine.
Seemed appropriate for a first date.
Diving back into the boy catalog with a little more gusto and higher standards had been the right move, just like moving on from Patrick was. He was sleeping back at his place, and now everything would go back to normal.
Nothing has changed. Nothing at all.
I was going to make dating my bitch. Good date today or bad, I was determined to keep going. As skeptical as I had been about finding a guy online, it was the perfect, low-impact way to ease myself back into the game.
I took a last look at myself in the mirror — skinny black jeans, ankle boots, leather jacket, big, shaggy hair. Lily said I intimidated guys, but I just figured it was an easy method for weeding out anyone who couldn’t handle me. At least this way they knew what they were getting. Or at least I told myself that was why, and that it had nothing to do with me preferring loneliness to getting hurt again.
When I made my way into the living room, I found Ellie stretched out on the couch, red hair piled on her head. Her eyes were glued to the TV, which I figured had been on MTV since she’d turned it on, but what stopped me in my tracks was the fact that she was wrapped in Patrick’s comforter.
I stopped behind the arm chair with my stomach in my throat, part of me convinced they’d had sex. Maybe on my couch. I thought I might puke. “Why do you have Tricky’s blanket?”
Her face quirked as she looked over at me. “Hmm?”
“That blanket. It’s Tricky’s. Did you …”
Her brows shot up. “God, no.” But her surprise slipped into a comical leer. “I mean, not like I wouldn’t, if it weren’t for the fact that you still want to bang him.”
I scowled. “Do not.”
“Yeah, right.” She leaned forward and picked up a folded piece of paper off the coffee table. “The blanket was on the couch when I woke up. I found this note too.”
I stuck out my hand to take it, but she unfolded it and began to read.
“Rose, I might take you up on your offer after all. Crashed on the couch, hope it’s okay. Let me know. Tricky.”
She handed it to me, and I smiled, only partly annoyed she’d snooped my note. Mostly, I was just relieved she hadn’t slept with Patrick.
“So, he’s going to be staying here after all?” she asked and wet her lips. “Tell me he sleeps naked.”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes as I walked into the kitchen. “You’re impossible.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Is he tattooed everywhere?”
The pantry didn’t have anything appetizing, so I decided on a lemon bar for breakfast. I salivated at the thought and reached for the bag on the counter, but it was empty. I pouted. “Only crazy people tattoo their dicks, Ellie. Fact of life.”
She tilted her head. “But doesn’t it look weird if he’s tattooed everywhere but there?”
“Trust me, when it’s in your face, that’s the last thing you’re thinking about. The piercing makes it look fierce enough.”
Her eyes widened, and she giggled. “Oh, my God. Does he have any friends?”
“More than a few.” I grabbed my bag and slung it on. “You’ll meet them
in a couple of days. Everyone’s going to Habits for Tricky’s birthday.”
“Oh, goodie.” She pulled his blanket up a little and stuck her nose in it, closing her eyes as she inhaled. “This smells good. Like boy and laundry.”
I sighed and grabbed my keys, knowing all too well. “Yup.”
“Where are you going, all dressed up?” she asked, confused.
“Meeting Music Mark at Roasted.”
“I totally forgot. Want me to call you like fifteen minutes in? Give you an out?”
I chuckled. “After Stinky Steve, that might be a good idea, but I have hope.”
“I should set an alarm or something. I can’t be trusted to keep track of time on a normal day, never mind when Teen Mom is on.” She picked up her phone.
“All right. I better get going. Wish me luck.”
She waved enthusiastically. “Good luck!”
I laughed and grabbed my bag. “Thanks, El. Talk to you in a bit.”
The walk to Roasted was a good one, with every step steady and full of decision. As if I could make my destiny just by willing it. I wanted to move on, so I would. I wanted to date, so I’d do it, and God help anybody that got in my way, because I was on the warpath to getting past my past. Even though he’d come back to sleep in my apartment again after all.
I pulled open the door and stepped inside, scanning the coffee shop for Mark, but I didn’t find him. Figured I may as well get my coffee while I waited, so I hopped in line.
It was nearly my turn when I heard my name. “Rose?”
I turned to find Mark smiling at me, and it was a great smile. He was a little taller than me, with a dark beard and hair long enough that it brushed the collar of his leather jacket.
“Mark, hey.” I smiled back just as the person in front of me moved out of the way, and it was my turn. I stepped up to the register. “Hi, can I get a regular chai and a lemon bar, please?”
“Sure,” the barista answered. “Anything else?”
Mark stepped up and pulled out his wallet. “Can I get a large drip?”
“Sure, name?”