My blood pounds in my ears, replacing every atom of embarrassment throughout my system with a fiery temper he almost never elicits from me. “Like a WHAT Aaron? Finish that sentence. I dare you. Like one of the girls you bring home?”
The glare he gives me in response to that could turn sand to glass.
“If male attention is all you want, then go by yourself. Or go on a girls’ night.” Apparently dressing like one of the girls he usually brings home is all it takes to make my happy-go-lucky bestie actuallyseethe. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
“Yeah, Aaron. I’ll go out with some of my many girlfriends.” I wave my hand dramatically to gesture at all of my imaginary friends, like my options are limitless. “Maybe you haven’t noticed. YOU’RE ALL I FUCKING HAVE.” That last line was definitely yelled with a little more sorrow than I normally let show. Seriously though, does he not understand that we’re it for each other? We’re all we’ve got, and we don’t need anyone else, either.
“Well I’m not hanging out with you all night and watching men drool over you. Go change.” He points to the stairs, like I’m his daughter trying to sneak out without permission. And I’m over this.
“Is it that you can’t believe a man would look twice at me that you don’t like?”
His chest rises and falls with his deep breaths of annoyance. Surely he knows that I’ve had partners by now. We’re twenty years old, ffs. But this level of irritation out of him is supremely rare, and I can only imagine that he’s never even considered me as a sexual being before.
“Or is it the fact that you never have?”
His jaw clenches in frustration, the words he isn’t letting himself say being held back within it. There’s a muscle or tendon or something that’s twitching as he grinds his teeth, and I pat myself on the back for getting so deep under his skin. Mostly, though, I just want to cry until I vomit, then hide under my covers for the rest of time.How am I supposed to face him again, knowing that my body disgusted him so much he couldn’t even look at it?
“Go. Change.” He breathes each word like it’s taking considerable effort to get them out, and I decide to listen to him on this. I can’t remember another time we had a blowup like this, and my insecurities are telling me he might be right. I don’t have what it takes to pull something like this off, and it’s not worth rocking the boat of our friendship over.
It’s taken me nearly eight years to make a move on him, and I think we can all agree this was quite the epic fail. I doubt I’ll be strong enough or brave enough to take another shot with him again. If anything is ever going to happen between us, it’s going to take him making the first move, because my ego may never recover from this. I know we belong together, but he doesn’t even see what’s right in front of him. If he would justlook, we could have it all.
I turn around to head back up the stairs and get back into a “normal” outfit for me, so we can go to this party and try to schmooze some big shot producer who’s working on some huge upcoming film Aaron is absolutelydyingto get cast in. I’m just going to have to pretend this humiliating ordeal never happened.
But the hairs on the back of my neck tingle the entire way up the stairs, like I’m being watched, maybe even being seen. I don’t look back to confirm whether my perception was correct. My heart can’t take another let down from this man.
Alex insistedon taking me shopping for my big date with Spencer. Even though it’s supposed to be totally low key, casual, no pressure, I’m definitely feeling pressured.
She also insisted on taking a few pics of me in some of these new outfits she helped me pick out, and she totally took overcompleting my Tinder profile, coming up with something witty for my bio, cause I would’ve left it blank. Luckily, she let me add in one little bit there at the end, so I felt better about the witty words she’d chosen for me.
I run my fingers over the expensive denim material in one of the bags as we weave through city traffic, on our way to the suburbs where we both reside. She’s got the roof down and the doors off her matte black Jeep, so we’re just soaking up the warm, late spring breeze as we fly through the lanes, headed toward the distant mountains. A laugh escapes me at a move she pulls, paired with an epic one-finger salute to a driver who’s evidently been pissing her off, and if I hadn’t driven with her a dozen times before now, I’d definitely be shitting myself.
With how much responsibility she shoulders on the show, she doesn’t have too much free time for about nine months out of the year, but I’m hoping in that short break she gets this year, we get to spend a lot more time together.
Now that Aaron’s cozying up with Kayla, it’s become painfully clear to me how little else I have going for me in life, and that’s something I want to work on. More things forme.
Starting with these cute outfits I’ve never been brave enough to try pulling off. Ever since that disastrous time I attempted to wear something a little more strip club than night club (okay, I can admit that I may have gone a bit overboard), my desire to branch out beyond comfy jeans and a loose tee has been zilch. Well, not my desire, per se. I definitely have stillwantedto feel and look cuter than I generally do. But have I been willing to face that kind of humiliation and rejection again? Definitely not.
It took Alex probably two hours of constant hype-up in the dressing rooms of three different stores she’d dragged me into to convince me that these things didn’t look ridiculous on me. She used all sorts of descriptors I’m not used to hearing (fire, smokeshow, hot as fuck—basically, she made me feelflammable), and eventually I almost started to believe her. I got comfortable enough to buy several of the outfits, at least. And I’m definitely giving valid consideration to exploring a new look, with her guidance.
We all have our insecurities. My appearance happens to be a big one of mine. I don’twantto dress in clothes that hide the few assets I do have, throw my hair up and leave the house bare-faced, without using any of the gifts science has given us to make myself look a little cuter, but I’ve just never figured out how to do anything differently in that department. And my one attempt at switching that up went so spectacularly horrible that it kept me from venturing into the realm of experimental style again. But Alex is making me think I might be able to pull something a little classier off. Something that feels a little moreGemma. I just need to figure out exactly what that is.
We pull up to her absolutely adorable bungalow, which iscrawlingwith live plants—literally, her front porch is covered in hanging macrame planters, vines, and a dozen potted varieties I couldn’t name even for a chance at a date with a fictional man—and hop out of the Jeep.
Alex is going to help me get ready for my date tonight, to help launch me into my new life with the proper amount of confidence, so she says. My arms are weighed down with these fancy paper bags full of new clothes, and I marvel at the fact none of them are plastic with the Target logo on them. Maybe I’m in for some new experiences all around.
NINE
GEMMA
He’s tall, taller than Aaron. He’s slim, a bit like me, but I like his frame. It looks good on him. I can tell he’s into nerd culture even before he’s said anything. Instant bonus. The way he carries himself is cute, wholesome, but there’s something flirty in his green eyes that tells me this is gonna be more fun than just hanging out with a friend.
He’s got these black-framed glasses that somehow complement his face shape, that bone structure that makes him kind of striking, in an unassuming way. I’m definitely pleased with the visual surprise portion of this blind date.
Not that I didn’t trust Alex, but I haven’t really seen her taste in guys, so I had no clue what to expect when she said he was cute. Heiscute. Not that weird cute-hot combo that Aaron has in spades (it really doesn’t make sense how that man has evolved as he’s aged), but there’s a definite immediate attraction with Spencer.
I approach lane seven as the text instructed, and his face lights up when he realizes I am who he’s waiting for. Like maybe he didn’t want to get his hopes up in case I walked right past him, straight to the frat bros having the time of their lives at thefar end of the alley, but now that he knows I’m here for him, he’s letting those hopes float right on up to the ceiling. He’s adorable.
One of my hands comes up to do an awkwardly cute little stunted wave of greeting at shoulder level as I get close enough to speak, and he opens his arms wide, inviting me in for a hug right off the bat.
