I make my way over to the TV, standing in front of it to get their attention.
“Moving into? A luxury villa? Yeah, I knew where I was moving.” The lease looked reasonably standard from the few glances I gave it.
“But, you didn’t read the rest of the agreement,” she says, with emphasis on thebut.
“Yes,” I mean, no. “I just didn’t understand the living arrangements.”
“Are you sexist or something?” Kricket counters.
“Sexist? What? No. Why would you think that?”
“You seem to have a problem living in a community full of men. What’s the big deal? They have penises. They aren’t aliens—unless you’re into that kind of thing. Actually, have you seen that YouTube video about alien dildos? They like … they plant alien eggs into your vagina just for fun? It’s weird but cool, I guess.” Kricket stares past me in thought, assumedly about alien dildos. I might gag.
“No, no I can’t say I’ve seen that video, and I don’t understand the relevance of that video or how it concerns this conversation we’re having. In any case, this isn’t about living in a community full of men.”
“Then, what is it?” Kricket drones, unaffected by my heated words.
“They’re all hitting on me. Like ... it’s a speed-dating game or something.”
Kricket pulls her popcorn filled hand away from her mouth. “Ah, this is why Katarina warned us about you. You’re a little shallow, right?”
“Katarina? My brother’s ninety-day fiancée? Yeah, she doesn’t know me.”
“Well, apparently your brother knows you because that’s what he told our sister. Obviously.”
Steam is pouring out of my ears, and rather than stand here and argue this moot subject, I flee up the stairs and close myself in my bedroom. I need to find that damn lease I signed. I know I have a copy on my computer.
The two bags I have are already resting on my bed. I toss the flaps open and rummage through them both, looking for my laptop and charger. It isn’t until I reach the bottom of both cases that I realize I packed them in one of the boxes I shipped. Shit.
With frustration raging through me, I plop down onto my bed and glance out the window as the glow from the bonfire catches my eye.
The men are all still down there, mingling. However, I swear they’re all looking up here again.
I'm going to have legitimate nightmares tonight about some of these men.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out, expecting the message to be from Bradley, one of my parents, or Gracie. God, I miss Gracie.
It’s from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: We have been given your number. I wanted to introduce myself because we didn’t get a chance to chat tonight.
I hold my finger down on the power button, waiting for my phone to turn off. Nope. Nope. Nope.
I’ve had many dreams of having my choice of men to pick from, but I woke up in a sweat, trying to figure out how I could ever make such a difficult decision like that. It’s not something that should be concerning me. I believe in fate, but I gather these men are desperate and are not here on behalf of a social study that involves anything more than having their time with me.
Throughout the four years of college I attended, I was asked out on three dates. Three. I don’t have a third eye or a nipple growing out of my chin, so I’m not sure what it is about me that scares men away, but I wasn’t anyone’s first choice on most Friday nights.
Those three dates consisted of:
1.The first-date “I love you” already.
2.The second date had another woman show up halfway through. It was planned.
3.The third date was a sweet guy, but he was looking to get laid the night before he was moving to Spain for three years.
Therefore, I have spent the better half of my adult life, single and not eager to mingle.
Chapter 8
