My fingers get tangled in my hair as I try to smooth it out. I have to yank to separate some of the sticky strands that arenow knotted and plastered to my cheek—another very literal representation of my current situation. Dating is sticky and messy and can ruin your favorite clothes if you aren’t careful. Why I thought going to a speed-dating mixer was the best way to get back out there is beyond me. Maybe I’m not mentally sane, and I need to see a therapist. Maybe I should talk to Ellie.
Unlocking my car, I realize Malcolm isn’t anywhere around me. Did he stay inside? Of all the people I would want to see me enduring a night like this, he is the last. There’s just something about telling my very surly, dating-the-traditional-way friend that I’m getting back out there that terrifies me. His opinion is annoyingly the most important to me. Don’t ask me why. I haven’t figured it out yet. It just is, and I have no doubt he is in stitches over seeing me tonight.
Wait. Why is he here tonight?
Is Malcolm speed-dating right now? My best friend getting back out there, too, is something I should want. The man deserves his happy ending, just like me. A pit forms in my stomach at the idea of him chatting it up with the pretty blonde from inside. They’d probably have cute blonde babies within a year, and I’ll still be alone.
My car engine rumbles as I let the heater warm my skin and throw my head back against the seat. I guess if any part of my getting-back-out-there plan was going to be a train wreck, I’m glad it was tonight. Ripped off the Band-Aid.
Another text dings on my phone—a photo of Frankie, my cousin’s cat, perched on top of Malcolm’s chicken coop, staring blankly into the camera. It’s followed up with another text.
Malcolm:Isn’t she supposed to try and eat them?
Uncontrollable laughter bubbles out of me, leaving me borderline teary. I remember now that he is babysitting Frankie for the night. She must be the one who is bored, not me. Malcolm isn’t actually here, an hour from home, also at a singles mixer. I panicked for nothing. Relief feels like a balloon deflating in my throat.
The relief fades quickly as I drive home, reminding myself to stick to the plan.You’re dating again, Katherine. It’s time.Once I’m home, I do the thing I swore I would never do. I sign up for a dating app: Playing the Field.
Chapter two
Kate
“You are immersed intoa gallery of different species, with a variety of shapes and sizes, all ranging from whales toHomo sapiengenitalia.”
Horror. Sheer horror.
A creepy sensation moves up my spine, and my stomach retches from dread as I stare at the poster board hung on my chalkboard that is covered in graphic images and stickers. Charlie Henders, the senior class clown, continues his presentation on the Icelandic Phallological Museum. An actual museum he visited with his family over winter break. Pictures of animal and human phallic shapes are scattered across my whiteboard along with a picture of Charlie, himself, grinning from ear to ear as he stands next to a whale replica.
I shove my reading glasses onto the top of my head and rub my temples, praying the pressure erases the images. He continues discussing the details of each sculpture, the size comparisons, and the history of the museum. That’s right, thehistoryof a penis museum. To my dismay, the class is completely engrossed in this presentation, giggling and whispering as Charliecontinues. I should probably stop this…but the kid is so focused on his work and getting the extra credit—he hasn’t been this motivated to participate all year. Maybe the tornado alarm will go off so we can end this before someone walks by.
“They even had a cafe and bistro!” Charlie holds up a restaurant menu. “If any of you are looking for a cultural experience …”
A cultural experience? What is happening? I sneak my phone out of my desk drawer, desperately needing to share this horror with someone.
Henders presented his senior project today.
I’ll give you three guesses on what it was…
Malcolm:Hmm…
You’ll never get it ??
Malcolm:Do I get any hints?
Of course not!
Malcolm:Is it over a place?
….yes
Malcolm:A museum perhaps?
?? ?? ??
yes….
Malcolm:Does this museum showcase art of the penis kind?
HOW DID YOU KNOW?!
