There’s two beats of an awkward silence before she comments about his fruitless passions in life—although his career goals are what attracted her in the first place—and makes her way to the couch.
There are chocolate candy wrappers flooding our coffee table and a reality show flashing on the television. I can tell she’s hurt by another romantic prospect gone nowhere. But when she wants to talk about it, she will. The first day, when the hurt is fresh and stinging, is never that day.
I kick my shoes off and retire my tote bag onto the kitchen counter. My hair gets thrown into a messy bun right before Rosie grabs me by my blouse and tugs me down onto the cushion next to her.
“Anyways, I have great news for you and your love life.”
“What love life?”
Her smile is beaming. “Exactly. Since today left me a bit less preoccupied than normal, I went on your MeetCute profile-”
“What?” I push her shoulder, though the force is minimal. “How did you log into my profile?!”
“It wasn’t hard.” She shrugs. “You use niallgirl333 as your password for everything.” I scoff. Well, it won’t be my password for much longer. “So I logged in and started scrolling through, and I saved a few guys for you.”
I open my mouth to protest. The single night of scrolling through profiles was for fun, to get the edge off a long day. I did it for entertainment and nothing more.
I’m about to remind Rosie of this and ask her not to bring it up again, when I catch the giddiness in her eyes. It’s so far from the empty gaze she had seconds ago.
Rosie loves love. And I love Rosie.
Sighing, I commit myself to another night of mindless scrolling if it means my best friend gets a break from her own problems.
“Fine, fine. Show me who you picked.”
Squealing, she pulls up the first profile. “Okay, so this is Chaz.”
To her credit, Chaz isn’t all bad. He’s good-looking, and despite having minimal information on his profile, I let my best friend swipe right on him. She cheers when a large banner indicates we matched.
“You can use him for your assignment!”
“Absolutely not.”
A pattern develops. To see her slip further away from the disappointed state she was in when I got home, I let her say yes to some guys. When we match, she tries to convince me I can date them for my assignment. I remind her to get a grip. Some things I’m not willing to do for a grade.
We must have been at it for an hour or two when the enthusiasm becomes too much to fake.
“I cannot look at another picture of a man posing with a fish.”
“You love fish.”
My face freezes in shock, head turning towards her slowly. “In my dinner!”
She sighs and waves her free hand. “Didn’t know you were against a man who provides.” Rosie tilts her head sassily. “Fine, these men aren’t good enough to help you with your homework. What’s your alternative, then?”
The witty comeback I readied dies in my throat.
“I didn’t agree to do this with you for my assignment, and you know that.”
Rosie opens her mouth but says nothing. It’s not meant to be a jab, and I trust she knows me well enough to understand that.
She nods and locks the phone. “I know. And thank you. But seriously, I feel like getting some sort of outer help would do you good.”
“I’m really not interested in going on a bunch of dates and writing them down like a case study.”
“Then don’t.” She shrugs. It’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard her say about my assignment. “But you need a third party. I haven’t been able to help you, and from yesterday, it doesn’t seem like Kameron can, either.” The inside of my cheek gets gnawed on while she talks. “Just think about it. For me?"
I reluctantly make a promise with her before shuffling into my bedroom. While I’m changing into my pajamas, I subject myself to the mental torture of problem solving.
