Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Jeff Jerkface.”
We stare at each other. My soul is crushed while her soul is horrified.
We both break into laughter at the same time.
Even before Jeff, I was bad at dates. Bad at love. I’m a disaster queen. I think the universe is trying to give me a sign that I’m meant to be alone. After Jeff, I became more focused on my career. It’s not that I wasn’t before, but I dug in with the kind of drive that a person only finds after being so empty in the rest of the areas of their life that there’s nothing to do but fill those holes with something else. I loved my job to begin with, so that helped. Pudding has always been there for me through the worst times of my life.
It would be nice to have someone, but I’m not holding my breath over here.
“I’m the queen of bad first dates, that’s what you’re saying?”
Her red face flames up again. “I’m so sorry all your dates were terrible, and then your boyfriends were terrible, and Jeff was terrible. It’s all been terrible. I’m not going to tell you to get back up after getting kicked down. Only you know when the time is right. But this isn’t real. This is just a favor, a purposeful shit show. You’re saving my life, Evilla, and I will be forever grateful.”
Fuck. She’s giving me the extra sad puppy dog eyes. Like rescue puppy dog eyes, and she knows I have a thing for rescue dogs. I have nowhere near the volunteer track record Gen does, but I do believe in dogs. All animals, really, but especially dogs. I can’t help it. They’re my favorite. My apartment says no pets, not even a fish or a bird, so right now, I’m out of luck on the dog front, but it doesn’t mean I can’t love them.
“I’ll also donate ten grand to whichever shelters you want.”
“Gen!”
“Please, Evie! Please! I’m desperate here,” she pleads.
“Admit this is all some master plan. The hives, calling me here because you were in crisis mode, all of it… You probably have a blonde wig and an outfit stashed away in here, just ready for me because we’re both on the same page about the fact that I’m a giant pushover.”
Her face levels out to totally serious, emotionless, and resting dead face Gen, which she does so well. Zombie face, we call it. I suck at it. I can’t ever hide what I’m feeling. Those six months of my life where I was Dead Inside Evilla were the only months I could do the impenetrable, unreadable mask.
“Fine.” There. There it is. It’s rather unsatisfying if I’m honest. “Yes, I gave myself hives. I just didn’t know what else to do. I was so stuck. I’ve never been so stuck, and I would just really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, appreciate it if you would wreck this date for me.”
Ugh. I don’t want to do this, but it’s an hour out of my time at most. No one is going to find out it wasn’t her on that date, and hopefully, this will never happen again for her.
Or for me.
As Gen said, I don’t need any help being horrible at romance. #Destinedtobealoneforever over here.
I let out the world’s longest sigh. I’m so screwed. “Alright, I’ll go, but only because I love you so much. This can never be a thing again.”
She nods so hard and leaps off the mossy boulder couch. Then, she throws herself at me, hugging the life out of me. No matter how bad this date is, I’ll get through it because of this, right here. Bestie hugs. Sisters from different misters hugs. They’re pretty much everything.
In the grand scheme of things, it’s just the tiniest little favor. And I’m a natural disaster. What could go wrong?
Chapter two
Mont
Ithink five-star restaurants might be overdone. Maybe, one of these times, I should change it up and pick a burger joint, but seeing as my mom always sets up these dates and picks the time and place, I just haven’t had the heart to change it. I don’t think places that have been in magazines or ones that charge three hundred bucks for a plate are any better than anywhere else, but my mom seems to think this is the proper way to have a date.
Well, given how many have gone nowhere, she might be wrong.
I really should get on finding that hole-in-the-wall burger joint.
Just because people have money doesn’t mean they don’t like a good burger and some homemade fries. Maybe a shake. Or chicken nuggets? Yeah, everyone loves chicken nuggets.
I stand outside, people-watching and trying not to shift around nervously. This might be date number I’ve lost count, but it doesn’t mean the good old butterflies aren’t still twisting through my insides. My mom does this thing where she sets up these dates so I can be here early. She tells the other mom to relay the message that I’ll be here at eight, and then she tells me seven-thirty. I didn’t figure it out for the first ten dates or so. I thought the other party was just chronically late. Once I clued in, I wasn’t that upset. It’s kind of a habit to get here early now and wait outside.