Chapter 1
PAIGE
How long is too long to hide from your date in the bathroom?
I look down at my watch. I’ve been in here five minutes and might have another three before Curtis, my dating-app disaster, gets suspicious or assumes the country-fried chicken sandwich I’d ordered from this fifties-themed diner isn’t settling well.
But who am I kidding? I’m long past caring what Curtis thinks. If his endless insults weren't waving red flags in my face, his fascination with dead mammals and hatred for eighties bands would be enough.
On any other online date gone wrong, I would have hopped in my little blue sedan and wished my suitor farewell, but my car had different plans today. Plans that included an expensive tripto the mechanic, leaving me without my own ride. I’d already rescheduled with Curtis before tonight, so ditching him again felt rude, so much so that I broke the cardinal rule of online dating and let Curtis pick me up from my house.
And now, I’m hiding in a bathroom.
I pace the single-user restroom, careful not to step on any of the shreds of toilet paper that litter the linoleum floor, and debate my two options—tough out this date or call one of my housemates, Missy or Ji, to pick me up. I think about sticking it out, but then I remember the corn kernels speckling Curtis’s beard and the way he keeps acting like he thinks he’s Timothée Chalamet and I’m the lucky girl he has whisked away for the greatest night of her life.
Shivers travel down my spine at the thought—and not the good kind.
Okay, phone a friend it is. I start to call Missy, but I remember she’s at a pageant meeting, so I dial Ji’s number instead. My call instantly goes to voicemail.
I end the call. “No, Ji! I need you.” I take in a deep breath, one that fills my lungs with a lethal dose of Lavender Linen air freshener.
After a moment, I call Ji once more and leave a voicemail this time.
“Ji-soo!” I say, using her full Korean name for emphasis. “Remember that time at Berkeley when Carson Silla asked you out, and he spent the whole date talking about cryptocurrency so you needed an emergency extraction? Well, my date is Carson 2.0, except replace cryptocurrency with dead boar species and you get the picture. Like, did you know people dug up a monster hybrid wild boar-pig in Georgia that weighed eight hundred pounds? A monster hybrid wild boar-pig. Eight hundred pounds. They called it Hogzilla. I shouldn't know that. Help!”
After I finish my message, I text her as well, just to cover all my bases. But an automated message instantly responds back:
Ji-soo: I’m driving right now, but I’ll see your message when I get to where I’m going.
Ack, why does Ji have to be so responsible?
Pocketing my phone in my old jeans, I pivot toward the mirror and tuck my long brown hair behind my ears before gripping both sides of the sink and bracing myself for a Super Bowl-worthy pep talk. “Okay, Paige Devons. You’ve gotta tough this out. You can do this! Embrace your inner Karen. That’s right—you are a big, bad, bossy Karen who doesn’t take no for an answer. You’re going to hike up your big-girl pants, march outside this bathroom, and tell your date you are ready to go home.”
I do a small fist pump for good measure just as several loudthudsslam against the bathroom door. Springing into action, I swing the door open and am greeted by several perturbed-looking diner patrons.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I say with warming cheeks as I shuffle past them in the narrow bathroom hallway, making my way into the main dining area. For a Thursday night, the old diner is bursting with people, courtesy of the Buy One Meal, Get One Free advertisement painted on the glass door in neon letters.
When I return to our cherry-red booth, I slide into the seat across from Curtis and watch as he thumbs his phone enthusiastically, getting really into whatever video game he’s playing. He bites his tongue in concentration and doesn’t look up at me until his video-game avatar dies a virtual death.
“That took forever,” Curtis says, putting his phone on the table.
My date is such a gem. I’m shocked that he’s still single.
“So, I was thinking.” He pulls a flosser from his pocket. “When you finish your sandwich, I know this cool place nearby where we can go dancing after dinner.”
My stomach churns. I don’t know what horrifies me more—another hour with my date or the corn pulp about to be flung at me once it’s dislodged by the flosser between his crooked incisors.
I force a smile. “Oh, that sounds… neat. But unfortunately, I have a big day at work tomorrow, and I should probably get home.” There. I said it. I’m so proud of me.
“That’s okay. The dance studio isn’t too far from here, and I heard a little exercise before bed will help ya sleep better. The better the sleep, the better the next day.” He smiles wide as if he’s just solved world hunger, and his wiry beard hairs shift upward, making him look like the backwoods version of the Grinch.
Okay, maybe I need to be more assertive. “Um, okay. I… I just left my cat at home, and I think she needs food. To be fed. ’Cause she’s hungry.”
Hey, all you Karens out there—step aside, most assertive woman coming through.
“Don’t you live with your friends? I saw at least one when I picked you up. Can’t she feed your cat?” Curtis asks. “What was her name?”
“Who? My cat?”
