The Love Study

by Kris Ripper

  I’d never heard it described that way, but I thought that fit a lot of people really well, even myself. Despite being intrigued, I was also kind of exhausted for Date #3. Like, on one hand, yes, I’d only been on two dates, true. But I almost couldn’t fathom going on...that many more. Which was of course why Mase and Oscar were always so depressed about dating in general. Because they went on dates. Consistently. And apparently that put you in a position to feel pretty hopeless about dating. Consistently.

  Anyway, ennui aside, I was still eager to meet Mara and she was easy to spot: both of us were fresh out of work and she was in a dark gray suit with a bright pink tie. I was smiling by the time I got to her.

  We did the usual awkward So you must be—greetings and shook hands. She offered to buy me a coffee and I said that would be nice. I got a decaf mocha (she didn’t say anything derisive about my decaf order) and she got a double espresso.

  Usually I felt inferior in the presence of people who enjoyed espresso straight up (I required a lot of steamed milk and something sugary to go with my espresso, thank you), but Mara seemed really laid back.

  “I’m extremely nervous,” she said as we began to walk down the pier, the slightest emphasis on extremely.

  “God, are you? I was just thinking about how chill you were being when I’m bouncing off the walls.” I paused. “In my head, I mean. Bouncing off the walls of my skull. So to speak.”

  “I think I’m good at pretending to be more calm than I am. I’m a lawyer. You can’t walk into a contract negotiation and let them see that you’re internally a mess of nerves and worst-case scenarios.” She sipped her espresso, lips folding in over it. “I was surprised when Spunk emailed me.”

  “Um. Who emailed you?”

  She laughed. “Sorry. Spinster Uncle. We old timers call them Spunk for short.”

  “Oh my god, you do? I can’t believe they never told me that. No, I can believe it, and now I’m completely calling them Spunk. That’s fantastic.”

  “It’s gone out of style with the younger parts of the audience, but I remember when they were just an adorable baby YouTuber with bad lighting and worse sound.”

  I clutched her arm, ennui banished. “Tell me everything.”

  “It’s all right there on the internet, you know.” But she didn’t seem bothered by the question. Or my hand on her arm. “At the time one of my partners was transitioning, and we watched like all—” again, that slight emphasis “—the trans videos. We came across Spunk when they had maybe six videos out and my partner had a huge crush, so he wrote them an email, and they wrote back. We started watching more, commenting a lot, and eventually my partner drifted away, but I stuck around Your Spinster Uncle.”

  We’d made it to the end of the pier and found a free space to stand, facing the water. With all the other people looking out at the water, or fishing, and not a few people kissing...it had been a long time since I’d made out with someone like the couple standing against the lamp post... Not that I was staring. Because that’d be creepy.

  Focus, Declan. “I kind of wish I’d known them when they first started out,” I confessed. “Or...not exactly. More that I wish I’d known them longer than I do. Though sometimes it feels like we’ve been friends for a long time. But maybe everyone feels that way with Sidney. Um. Spunk.” Ha, that nickname was gold.

  Mara raised an eyebrow, turning to more fully look at me. “Really? I’ve always had the impression that they run the opposite way. I’ve known them for three years and still don’t think I’ve scratched the surface.”

  “Huh. Or maybe I’m just weird. I mean, for sure I’m weird, but it could be that my weirdness is interfering with my, like, understanding. Or something. So anyway, you’re into rock climbing?”

  “I’m obsessed with rock climbing.” Emphasis more pronounced that time. “Have you been?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never even been to a climbing gym, though I know there’s one here in town and my friends go. Do you recommend starting inside where there are pads on the ground or going straight into the danger zone?”

  She laughed.

  We started walking again, back down the pier and then along the waterfront. The wind was cold and the sun, just starting to set, was still warmish. Mara was smart and funny and this was definitely the first time I’d really gotten along with one of the dates Sidney sent me on. Mara would like the Motherfuckers, and they’d like her. She was sexy and smart, and while I didn’t feel a strong romantic vibe, you never knew...maybe that was the kind of thing that developed over time?

  We eventually decided to stop at one of the little bistros on the far side of the street and she regaled me with more early tales of Sidney’s show.

  “You are one of the more popular guests already, though it doesn’t hurt that you’re cute and flirty.”

  “Who? Moi? Flirty?” I batted my eyelashes at her.

  She pinched my cheek, which might have played badly, but by then we were pretty comfortable with each other. “This has been a lot of fun, Declan. I’m glad Spunk picked me for the honor of going out with you.”

  “Oh, hey, honor, I don’t know about that. And you never said why you were surprised they did.”

  Mara glanced away, picking up the crumbs from her croissant sandwich. (I’d already meticulously finger-poked and eaten every stray poppy seed from my poppy seed bagel with cream cheese and lox.) “In the past I’ve been, uh, strongly anti-dating. It was actually a little hard to compose an email asking them to give me a chance.”

  “Really?” It seemed like there was more going on there, but also like she wasn’t stoked about discussing it. “Well, I’m incredibly glad you did, because this has been by far the most fun date I’ve been on. Sidney will be excited their devilish machinations were so successful, don’t you think?”

  She sat back. “Hmm.”

  Hmm?

  I got nervous. Cue: nervous rambling. “You want to go out again, right? I’ve just been assuming because I’m having a really good time, but you definitely don’t have to. I’m feeling a strong four, four-point-five on the physical chemistry score, I don’t know if you’ve been watching The Love Study. Wait, you must have been watching The Love Study. Or we wouldn’t be sitting here, right?” Cue: nervous laughter. “But are you interested in going out again? Or am I making up that we have chemistry? Which you can tell me, I’m tough, I can take it. It’s all in the name of science and YouTube, right?” I took a slurp of my ice water, which was now a glass of ice with a little bit of melt at the bottom, and waited for global warming to put an end to the earth so I wouldn’t keep embarrassing myself.

  Mara took a deep breath.

  Oh my god, I’d gotten it wrong, she was repulsed by me after all, why was I so stupid, and how could I ever think a woman this smart and attractive would be interested—

  “I think you might have your eye on someone else, Declan.”

  I glanced around, wondering who she thought I was looking at. Not the love-struck seniors at the window table (though they were sweetly holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes), and for sure not the business casual threesome with their phones out. “I really don’t,” I said, satisfied I really hadn’t.

  She uttered an amused hah. “I meant Spunk.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I like you a lot. But your favorite topic of conversation is Spunk, and I think before you go trying to seek out a stranger to date, maybe you should, you know, try dating the person who’s right in front of you.”

  I pouted. “I just tried that and she said no.”

  “Figuratively right in front of you. Right in front of you every Monday evening when you film cute, flirtatious livestreams together.”

  “Sidney does not flirt.” Did they? Maybe every now and then. In passing. Casually. Not for real.

  Mara eyed me for another long mo
ment. “I’ve never seen any other guest have such a playful, warm dynamic with them. I’m not sure what all they’ve told you, and I only know a little from the kinds of things they used to say, but I don’t think they’re used to...expecting anyone to pay attention to them for longer than a video. And you do. Anyway, I’m happy to see you again, and this has been fun, but if you want my opinion, you should talk to Spunk.”

  “But...they don’t date people.”

  “Neither do I, usually.” She poked my shoulder in what I took to be a big-sisterly way. “You’re a little bit special, Declan. And I could be wrong, but I think Spunk thinks so too.”

  I sat there, stunned, my thoughts slowing down to half time while everything outside it had sped up. Did Sidney like me? Of course they liked me, but did they like me? They’d said not dating was a guideline, but what did that mean? I’d taken it as a throwaway line. Maybe it wasn’t? I added Do I have an obvious and pathetic crush on my YouTuber friend, and does all of YouTube know it? To my list of Things to be Mortified About Later.

  “Unless I’m wrong...” Mara said gently.

  “Um.” I tried my water again, but very little ice had melted since the last time.

  She pushed her half-full glass across the table toward me.

  “Thanks.” When I’d downed almost all of it, I looked up. “The thing is, I don’t want to be the guy who thinks he’s the exception. And they said they don’t date.”

  “So be the guy who’s honest about how he feels and doesn’t act entitled to someone else returning those feelings.”

  I cringed. “But what if they don’t? That sounds awful.”

  “Would it be awful if someone told you they had feelings for you and you had less-strong feelings for them? Or would it be nice to know they felt that way even if nothing came of it?”

  Which was, okay, logical. “Except that sounds, like, super scary.”

  Mara reached for one of my hands (this wasn’t quite the hand-holding I’d sorta hoped for at the beginning of our date). “Hey, you know who’d be able to give you good advice about your dilemma?” Slight emphasis on advice.

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “Sidney.”

  “You could ask them. If you want to.” She squeezed my hand. “Either way, do you want to go out for coffee again? And Sidney said you crochet, is that true?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, I’m not brilliant, but I can follow a pattern.”

  “Have you been to the yarn shop over on Tice?”

  “I don’t think so?”

  She nodded like that settles it. “Let’s do a coffee and yarn shop friendship date. Okay?”

  “That sounds really nice.” I hesitated, knowing it was time to let go of her hand, but holding it just a little longer. “You really think I won’t sound like an asshole if I ask them for advice about...about them?”

  “I think you could go out with a dozen people, but if you’d rather go out with Spunk, none of them will measure up. And if they say no, at least you’ll be able to let that go and give someone else a chance.”

  I couldn’t tell if Mara put herself on the list of people who didn’t measure up, or if she was making a general statement. Either way, she had a point. “Dating is way more complicated than I remember it being in college.”

  She laughed. “Isn’t everything?”

  We walked back to the parking lot, talking a little more about Sidney, but I managed to stop being so self-absorbed and ask some actual questions about Mara too. It was by far the least awkward I’d felt, and we even hugged when we were saying goodbye.

  “Can’t wait to see the show!” she called as she was getting in her car.

  The show. Sidney. Me. My no-longer-deniable crush.

  Oh dear. I had three days to come up with some clever way to broach the subject with them. Go, team.

  Chapter Eleven

  I panicked sitting in my car down the street from Sidney’s apartment and called Mason, completely forgetting that he was hosting Motherfuckers gatherings to watch The Love Study. So basically: I called everyone.

  “I’m panicking.” That was me.

  “Do you want a pill?” Oscar.

  “He goes live on YouTube in five minutes, it’s too late for a pill.” Ronnie.

  “Hush, both of you.” Mia. “Dec, take slow breaths, okay?”

  I tried that, but it didn’t help. Until—wait a minute—it helped a little. “What if they reject me live on YouTube in five minutes?”

  “It will take longer than that for you to ask them out.” Oscar. “What if they reject you live on YouTube in fifteen minutes?”

  “Oh my god.”

  “Slow breaths!” Mia.

  “Ow!” Oscar.

  Good, at least someone smacked him for me. Probably Ronnie.

  “Y’all, be quiet.” Mason took the phone off speaker and the background sounds of my friends got much more distant. “Dec, listen to me for a minute.”

  “Listening.” I concentrated on inhaling.

  “You’re going to go and say hello and sit down like you always do.”

  “Right.”

  “And if you want to tell Sidney about the date as usual, you can.”

  “Okay.”

  “If it feels good, you can ask them out. If it doesn’t, don’t.”

  “I was thinking I might ask them for advice. Like hypothetically, if I wanted to ask out a friend who wasn’t into dating and I wanted to make sure I was doing it respectfully.”

  “Mmm.” Was that a good mmm or a bad mmm? “That could work. Will you regret it if you don’t go for it?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Totally. But maybe I should wait until we’re not live? Because what if they feel like I put them on the spot?”

  “If you do it hypothetically, and they answer you hypothetically, I think you’re still doing the show. Once the video’s done, then you can follow up and take their advice.” His voice was so comforting. “Honey, they like you. Anyone can tell that.”

  “I’m terrified,” I whispered.

  “If they blow you off, do what you always do: crack a joke and change the subject.”

  “Hey!”

  “Stop being a silly goose and get your ass in there, you’re late. Go get you some, son!”

  The others shouted variations on the theme of me going to get me some and I hung up on their laughter.

  Mason knew me really well. I would regret it if I didn’t say anything. Also, I was late. Again. Dammit.

  This time they smiled and opened the door wide for me to step inside. “Everything’s ready for us.”

  Us. I dropped my stuff. “Sorry I’m always late. I should have warned you before you committed to the show.”

  “It doesn’t bother me. You’re here. That’s what counts.”

  We nearly crashed into each other on the way to our chairs, awkwardly separating and laughing it off. Not an auspicious start to the show.

  Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. Was I really going to do this?

  DATE #3 HOTTIE WITH THE DOUBLE SHOT WHO WAS COOL AS A CUCUMBER

  Sidney hit the button, the LIVE red dot appeared, they did the intro. My pits were sweating. My temples were sweating. My palms were sweating. I might literally (figuratively) melt into the chair.

  “People who misuse ‘literally,’” I blurted out. They were looking at me, it’s not like I interrupted, but they definitely hadn’t said anything that made that a reasonable reply. “Sorry, dating dealbreakers. Fashion glasses and people who misuse ‘literally.’ I mean, I do sometimes? But only for effect. You know. Ironically. Um.”

  Somewhere my friends were shouting at a screen. Possibly throwing popcorn.

  “Did Date #3 misuse ‘literally’?” Sidney asked, with a humor the unhinged guest smile.

  “Oh no. No, not at all. Date #3 was fabulous. Physical chem
istry: four-plus. Intellectual chemistry: five. Second date: kind of? We’re going out again, but it’s sort of not exactly a date-date? More of a friendship date.”

  Sidney just blinked at me. “Er...okay. That was a whirlwind. Friendship dates are good. Do you want to...tell us more about it?”

  DATE #3 HOTTIE WITH THE DOUBLE SHOT WHO WAS COOL AS A CUCUMBER

  Fuckfuckfuck. “Um. I. Um.” Could they smell me? I had to reek of nerves and also today was not the day to have tuna for lunch, what the hell had I been thinking? “Um, well, actually I kind of...need advice. About a thing. If that’s okay?”

  Eyebrows up and over the rims of their glasses. “Sure. I don’t know if I can be of help, but I’ll certainly try.”

  I swallowed hard. My mouth was as dry as asphalt in summer. Please don’t reject me live on YouTube. Please don’t be mad I did this. “So there’s this, um, this hypothetical situation. Or, like, say I have a friend.”

  Sidney laughed a little. “I’m with you. You have a friend.”

  “Right. And my friend has a friend.”

  They bit their lip to keep from grinning. I mean, I thought that was why. The corners of their mouth seemed to be resisting the tooth-pressure holding them in place.

  “My friend has, um...feelings. For this other friend. Right? And um. But see.” I paused, frustrated by my own knotty fake scenario. “So the other friend, that my friend has a crush on, doesn’t date people? Like, usually.” Now I was gnawing on the inside of my cheek, peeking up at them through the not-great shield of my eyelashes.

  Their eyes widened and their mouth went a little slack.

  “But it’s less of a rule and more of a...guideline. The, uh, not-dating.” I swallowed again, but my mouth was so dry I kind of choked and started coughing. And because this was my life, I didn’t just cough once or twice and recover, I coughed until I couldn’t breathe, which made me cough more, and then I was doubled over, hacking, with tears in my eyes.

  “Here.” A bottle of water was pushed into my hand.