“Yeah, and I don’t think we will be.”
He won’t even listen. And I get it. He’s angry. But if he’d just let me explain the story behind this date, he’d laugh. Instead, he’s made up his mind.
“You know, I think that’s probably the best outcome here. I don’t appreciate being called a whore, and if you’re not willing to listen to me, then there’s nothing here to build a relationship out of. Bye, Ken.”
I walk back to the table while he disappears into the back. My heart races, but now there’s only Decker left in the running. And I’m not sure if he’s actually serious about me. He says all the right things, but it’s hard to forget how just months ago, he had a different girl every night.
“Who was that?” Wade asks, nodding towards the counter.
“An ex,” I say. “So, tell me about yourself.”
I’m not leaving just to appease Ken after he tried to paint me as some type of hussy who gives it away to every man I meet. He can watch this on the security cameras I know are positioned in every corner around here.
Wade talks about himself like an audition reel. The more he talks, the more familiar it sounds—not only because of my brother but because I read all of this online last night.
“I bat left but throw right, which gives me a total advantage over others. I played for the Red Sox before being traded to the Yankees. Then I went to the Rays.”
“Then why are you wearing a Yankees hat instead of a Rays hat?” I ask.
He chokes on his coffee. “My hits record is over three thousand.”
“Do you really expect me to believe your last name is Boggs?”
“I knew you recognized me. You’re not a groupie, are you? I’ll sign something for you, but—”
“You’re about forty years too young to be Wade Boggs, you know that right?”
His eyes widen. “Um, that’s—”
“You don’t have groupies or baseball fanatics approaching you. Have you even played baseball? What are you? Twenty-six? How could you have over three thousand hits?”
“How do you—”
“My brother’s an actual baseball fan. Went to college on a baseball scholarship. Trust me, I know more about the sport than you ever will. You’re pathetic.”
My anger at Ken seeps over into my interaction with Wade—which probably isn’t even his real name—and I feel a tinge of guilt. Just a tinge.
I stand and walk out without looking back. It was one thing when people were pretending to be mythical creatures, but now people are pretending to be celebrities twice their age. And there are probably gullible people who will believe it.
This app also ruined my relationship with Ken. Although, did it really ruin it? Or did it help show his true colors?
Either way, I’m done with both Ken and the app. I can’t do this anymore.
Feedback
BDSM
When Mona and I walk into the bar, we see Decker. By himself.
This scene does not compute. I haven’t seen him since he told me he was falling for me, and for a moment, my brain freezes like a buffering video.
“Did you know he was coming here?” Mona asks as we grab a table along the wall.
I shake my head, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. “No. And I haven’t talked to him in days. He had no idea this is where we planned for me to meet a potential masochist, either. If I had, I would’veexpectedhim to show up.”
“Why?”
“Because he saved me from my Bully date.”
