My friendsate popcorn and gasped at all the right places as I gave the rundown of the Memphis Eve–Mark Holbrook drama, accompanied by an interpretive dance.
“And then,” I said dramatically, “he asked me on a date.End scene.”
Sophie applauded, and Elsie rolled her eyes.
“You obviously can’t go. You have to set him straight.”
“But my sister,” I exclaimed, stealing a handful of popcorn. “She’s waiting in the wings to sink her teeth into poor, traumatized Mark.”
“You really have it bad for this guy, huh?” Sophie said as she swept a popcorn kernel around the side of the bowl to scrape up more butter.
Ivy stole a buttery piece from her stash. “I have a solution,” my friend said. “Go on the date, but be as obnoxious, clingy, and weird as possible. If he’s super horny, he’ll ask you on a couple more dates. You just have to string him along. In the meantime, we’ll figure out a way to boot Memphis Eve back to whatever Instagrammer hell she came from.”
* * *
“Operation Bea Weirdo on a Date will now commence,” I said later as my friends all packed into my tiny bedroom.
“Scrunchies,” Amy insisted. “You have to show up with neon scrunchies in your hair and a really weird outfit.”
“It can’t be a costume, though,” Elsie warned, “or Mark will think something’s up. He’s not an idiot. I bet he knows you don’t like Memphis Eve, but I bet he thinks it’s because you’re both dumb girls fighting over his dick, not because you’re literally throwing yourself in the line of fire to preserve his sanity.”
Sophie and Amy swooned. “It’s so romantic!”
“Stop it!” Elsie snapped. “We are businesswomen; we need to act like we have some sense.”
“I wonder how big his dick is!” Amy said with a snicker.
Elsie threw up her hands in exasperation.
“You know what I think?” Ivy asked, pawing through my closet. “You need to wear the self-care skirt.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I feel like that veers into costume territory.”
“No,” Ivy said. “It’s perfect. It feels like something a quirky seamstress would wear.”
The self-care skirt was something I had made in a cream cheese brownie ice cream–fueled self-care episode. My parents’ apartment was not big enough to have a bath, and I was loath to burn candles surrounded by thousands of dollars’ worth of antique lace. Therefore, I had made myself loungewear out of scraps of my favorite fabric. I had chosen the softest pieces and cut them out into triangles. The final effect was as if a quilt had been made into an Edwardian walking skirt. There was a piece of extra satin here, a piece of faux fur there. It was colorful, garish, and felt delightfully heavy when I walked around the apartment. When I really wanted to get into the sewing zone, I put that skirt on. I felt veryLittle Womenswishing around the apartment wearing it.
“If I wear that skirt, I can’t do a scrunchie, I need to do a bow,” I decided.
“And very strong-smelling perfume,” Grace said, spraying me with chocolate crème brûlée body mist.
* * *
Mark’s eyeswidened slightly when he saw me.
Good, good.I mentally rubbed my hands together.It doesn’t matter that you are the hottest kisser around, I bet a Roomba that you’re going to cut this date off short and kick me to the curb. Hopefully you’ll swear off dating completely and ignore Memphis Eve.
“You look lovely,” Mark said, leaning in to kiss me. It was not a polite, perfunctory kiss. It was a hot and steamy kiss that made me want to lift up my skirt and let him go shopping.
“Do you like my outfit?” I asked, gasping when he released me.
Mark looked me up and down. “Love it.”
Dude must be hornier than I thought.
Mark rested a hand on my lower back and escorted me into the restaurant.
“This is a new establishment that’s known for its shellfish,” Mark informed me as he pulled out my chair.
