“I should get going. It’s late. Thanks for the food, Jae.” I sincerely say my thank you, grateful for the meal.
He holds his hand out to pull me off the bench, which I take gingerly, and walks me to the door, plates still on the table. I didn’t even hesitate to reach for his hand.
“Get home safe please.” Jae looks at me, something different in his eyes than the last few hours, and under his breath he mutters. “This is the part of the date where I would kiss you.”
“Excuse me, what was that?” I’m laughing, but I’m also backing away. There’s no way he just said that. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m just saying. Your date would kiss you before you leave for the night. Expect that on the next one.” Jae crosses his thick arms.
“What?” I say again.
“You just went on a date with me, Riley.”
“Yeah, but it was apracticedate,” I’m flustered. “It wasn’t real. Even if you tried, I wouldn’t kiss you.” I say, determined not to let on that I’m thinking about kissing him.
“What makes you think I’d try?” Jae looks cross, leaning on the front door of his restaurant.
“You said it!” I nearly double over. Is this even happening right now? What’s going on with me?
“I brought it up because I’m helping you,” Jae says, touching my shoulder. “And I don’t want you to be shocked if a date tries to kiss you after.”
“I won’t be shocked, I can handle myself,” I say. “I can handle myself.” Repeating it makes it truer.
“You don’t look like you can handle yourself right now.” Jae is wide eyed, and I’m worried he can read my mind for a second. He’s touching my shoulder, and I want to kiss him for it.
What made me want to kiss Jae so badly all the sudden? Was it because he was nice to me? I had a habit of falling in casual love with anyone who was nice to me for more than a few minutes. The CVS cashier who handed me my receipt. The man on the subway who pointed out I dropped my scarf. The barista who called out my drink order.
No. It’s because he’s a fucking smoke show, and I haven’t been touched by another man in three years, and he was just the firstto touch me in a long time.
I turn to leave, walking away from his grasp, waving my hand wildly like a flag. If I wave my hand faster, I can stop myself from turning around and trying to smash my face all over his.
This is the part of the date where I would kiss you.I repeat that line in my head over and over and over again on the way home. Thank goodness it wasn’t a real date, because if it was, I’d have kissed him back.
7
Later that night, I decide a distraction would surely fix this. I run through my list of usual options.
An episode ofNew Girl.I turn it off after a few minutes.
A game of Tetris. I lose after level 5.
A pint of ice-cream. I’m not in the mood for a caramel vanilla cone.
I bury my face in Lily's back, her light snoring completely undisturbed. I can’t bring myself to wake her up.
I putFuneralby Arcade Fire on the turntable. I don’t bother flipping the record over.
I put the kettle on and pour myself a cup of peppermint tea but never take a sip. I let it grow cold on the kitchen counter, the steam billowing off to the heavens.
I check the same five apps one after another.Nothing scratches my mental itch. I am in desperate need of human attention. Logically, I know the answer is to make a post in my support group. Or message another member of my therapy group. But in my head, I’ve already kissed Jae about a thousand times.
I had only ever bought one bottle of liquor. I bought it at the corner store two weeks after Grant died. I had convinced myself that in order to survive the pain of losing Grant I had to become an alcoholic. I had taken half of a shot and coughed my lungs out something fierce. Ever since then, it’s lived in the bottom of a corner cabinet. It’s probably buried in the bottom of a moving box filled with cartons of saltines and cans of beans, if I had even kept it.
I need it for what I am about to do. I find it and twist the cap off and put it up to my lips like I’m going to drink straight from the bottle like a sorority girl in the basement of a frat house. Except I’m more like a terrified child trying to drink out of an adult sized glass for the first time. But still, I manage to choke down a pathetic sip.
Fuck. That was a mistake.
I wipe my mouth on the back of my left hand, my right hand hovering over the dating app. Just do it, you coward.I open it. I swipe through hot but unsuitable guy after hot and unsuitable guy.
