Helen
It’s stupid to feel heartbroken over Thad. We only shared one measly conversation, one stupid kiss. I know hardly anything about him, actually, since it turned out he made up part of his personality, and his only real interest in me was trying to find my brother. Thad made that incredibly clear when he all but ran out of my apartment after Dean hung up the phone.
There was nothing between us, except for my fantasies of who I thought Thadmightbe.
I know all of this, on a logical level. But on an emotional level? On an emotional level, I feel deflated, crushed. The look he gave me when he tried to kiss me and I couldn’t stop laughing…it springs back into my mind at the most unexpected, inopportune moments, like an incredibly sadistic jack-in-the-box, and no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I have to cover my face in mortification.
Luckily I already had plans to get coffee with Matilda the next morning. We meet up at Philo’s, the coffee shop down the street, an hour before I’m scheduled to open the library for the day. Matilda might not be the most caring audience, but her matter-of-fact briskness can be weirdly comforting sometimes.
“He was never going to be a long-term relationship anyway. He hastattoos.” Matilda shakes her head as she scrolls through her emails. As a paralegal, Matilda is always working, even when she’s not technically working, and she’s incredibly good at multitasking, so I don’t take it too personally that she’s on her phone during my meltdown. “You do not belong with a tattoo guy.”
I feel like I ought to be offended, but I know what Matilda means. Thad looks like he should have a glamorous girlfriend who used to be a supermodel. And I…well, I look like I should be with someone who wears a cardigan and house slippers. So, basically Mr. Rogers.
“You got to make out with the guy you’ve had the hots for. That’s as far as it was ever going to go anyway. I see this as a win.”
Matilda can be so wise, sometimes. I shake my head, sighing. “You’re right. You’re so right.” There’s no way that someone like Thad would fit into my world. I can’t imagine him at puzzle night, or baking with me on the weekends, or wanting to be in bed by nine p.m. with a good book. That’s probably when he starts his nights, with his glamorous supermodel girlfriend who loves to go clubbing. This woman is entirely hypothetical, of course, but I imagine she’s the clubbing type, and I myself am most definitely not the clubbing type. Thus, Thad could have only ever have been a fling.
“What you should be worried about,” Matilda continues, “is the laughing-during-kissing thing. No one’s going to like that, whether he’s a fling or not.”
There it is. Matilda’s unflinching honesty always adds a little sting to her advice, no matter how good it is. “It wasn’t like I meant to giggle,” I defend myself.
“Exactly. That’s the problem. You need more practice making out with people. Random people, maybe, so it won’t matter if you make an idiot out of yourself.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
Matilda either doesn’t hear the sarcasm in my words, or she chooses to ignore it. “There’s a guy at my firm I could set you up with. He seems kind of desperate, so he won’t care if you’re bad at it…”
I know from most people, that would be a passive-aggressive dig at me, but Matilda isn’t being mean, just pragmatic. In her mind, it makes sense that I should want to practice with someone who isn’t picky or judgmental. She’s helping, or trying to, and I honestly don’t know if that makes it better or worse.
Luckily, Matilda has to leave to get to an appointment on time, so I don’t have to hear any more onthatsubject.Or is it unlucky, I reflect later, after I’ve started logging in all the books returned through the outside drop box,if Matilda is heading to meet up with the so-called desperate man she wants to set me up with…?
I hastily pull out my phone, reiterating via text what I told Matilda in person: Do not set me up with your coworker. I mean it!
Someone clears his throat, pulling my attention from my phone. For a brief, pulse-pounding moment I think it might be the Red Unicorn—Thad—but of course, that doesn’t make any sense. He already got what he wanted from me—and anyway, the Red Unicorn isn’t really a beautiful ginger who loves to read. The Red Unicorn is dead.
With that melodramatic thought in mind, I meet Shane’s sunny smile with an attempted smile of my own. “Hey, Shane. How’s quantum mechanics going?”
Shane shakes his wildly curly hair. “Not so great, I’m afraid. I have no idea what this book is talking about.” He hands over the book he checked out a few days ago, then produces a new one he’s pulled from the shelves.
I scan the cover. “Oak trees. That should be interesting.”
“Right?” Shane nods enthusiastically. “Have you ever just looked at trees and thought,whoa?”
I can’t help but be pulled into his enthusiasm. Smiling, I nod. “Treesarewhoa, you’re right.”
I go through the motions of checking him out on autopilot, my mind wandering, unbidden, back to my encounter with Thad. There it is again—thatlookon his face when I wasn’t able to stop laughing. I’m convinced it’s burned into my retinas now, an image I’ll be able to conjure no matter how many years pass. It will most likely be the last image I see before I die, that’s how scarred it is into my memory.
“What are you doing tonight?” I ask Shane before I can check myself. It’s a stupid, impulsive thing to do, but didn’t Matilda just tell me I should get some practice with someone else—ideally, someone nicer and less interested in using me to track down my brother?
Shane blinks at me in obvious surprise. “Uh—nothing?”
This is really not in character for me, but I have to do something to purge that memory of Thad from my mind. And Shane is nice, sunny, cheerful. I could see him wearing a cardigan—probably not slippers, though, since he’s always talking about being connected to the earth through being barefoot and whatnot, but one out of two isn’t bad.
I do my best to look confident, maybe even a little flirty. “You know, you’re always joking about me turning you down, but you’ve never actually asked me out?”
Shane’s face stretches into a grin. “Really? You wanna have dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes.” I nod decisively. “That would be nice.”
