I put on a regency-era accent to go with the movie playing in the background. “Because I meet so many eligible bachelors tending bar.”
“Forget that. Obviously Mr. Darcy and every other fictional man are the standard, but they don’t exist,” Caroline says.
We all echo her with our woes that the fictional men we love aren’t real.
“Algorithms are the way to go, babe.” Caroline smiles wickedly around a grape. “Without them helping us wade through the no’s and absolutely not’s of the world, we might never connect with potential choices. Plus, I check off so many of my top fantasies. Like last month, while I was on a business trip in Chicago, I hooked up with this super hot businessman who railed me against his office window in a high rise. Like, he absolutely wrecked my shit.”
She fans herself. We all fall apart with laughter and delighted squeals for our girl.
“I’m so done with guys like Shawn. I don’t know if I want to rebound right away into a relationship. But I also am kind of dreading how many couple-y things are going to be in my face through the holidays.” I pause, eyes widening. “No, my birthday party. Not only do I not have anyone to kiss at midnight, but now I don’t have anyone to wear that sexy outfit I picked out for and they won’t be peeling that little number off me at the end of the night.”
I don’t always like to celebrate my birthday on the real day, but this year I decided a New Year’s Eve birthday bash would be perfect to ring in twenty-five. Now I’ll be one of the few single people on the guest list.
“You’re still wearing it,” Julia insists.
“For yourself,” Caroline agrees. “But also, you could totally still enjoy the night with someone if you find the right match to invite. You’re closing yourself off to so many possibilities, and half the time you never see them ever again.”
I swing a skeptical look between the three of them. “So I just hop on Tinder like a meat market?”
“Or Hinge, or any of the services,” Julia says. “Despite what they advertise as the user experience, they’re all pretty much the same.”
I love my friends, and I know they support me. Sometimes I can’t help but feel as if they have it together and I don’t. Caroline scored a job for a marketing firm with global reach that sends her traveling around the world. Julia is working in PR for the NHL in Boston. And Lauren teaches lectures at the college while working on her PhD.
They’re totally winning at the transition into adulthood post-graduation while I’m left lagging behind with a fake-it-til-I-panic approach.
I mull their suggestion over. Dating is challenging enough.
It’s partially why I was content to stay with Shawn. He was…easy. Familiar. He might not have understood my interests or my neurodivergent quirks all the time, but the idea of finding someone else that will accept every facet of me, including my ADHD, is daunting.
Obviously I want to share my life with a partner that accepts me for who I am and doesn’t believe I’m too much or too hard to love. Everyone wants that.
Maybe they’re right. This doesn’t have to be serious, it can just be for fun. I could find someone who doesn’t want to be lonely for the next few months, either.
Someone who’s down with a no strings attached arrangement.
Pulling out my phone, I browse through app options. Love Struck catches my eye with its retro-inspired pink branding. It’s new. I overheard some Heston U students raving about it while I was bartending.
“This one seems cool,” I say.
“Do it, do it,” Lauren chants enthusiastically.
“We’ll help you with what to put in your profile.” Julia shuffles to sit on my other side.
“Fine, you win,” I say.
I feel silly creating a dating profile, but we all giggle as I download the app. They’re with me every step of the way to fill it in.
By the time the second bottle of wine is nearly finished off, I’m all set up on the app. The movie’s over and our paintings are done.
Lauren squeezes my hands when we’re all saying goodnight. “Just remember to have fun.”
“It’s what I deserve,” I say.
“Hell yeah, you do.” Caroline smiles and hugs me. “You deserve everything, so go out there and get it. That’s thefuck youShawn’s earned.”
“Love you guys. Thanks for everything.”
After they leave, I run a bubble bath and pour myself the last of the wine. I add a scoop of bath salts and hum when I sink into the warm water.
