The hat was plucked from her head, and she blinked in the stark lighting of the living room. “Back to earth, Rae-bae,” Ellen said. “You know the rules. Scramblettes first, suitors second.”
“You look hungover,” Mina told her. “Only one solution—more drinking.” She handed Rae the wine bottle.
Rae took a sip, but she didn’t have a hangover, at least not the alcohol-induced headache she was used to. Her heart felt a little hungover from that kiss. Kisses. The plural was important. It had almost gone farther than that, but Dustin had taken a cab with her back to her apartment and said good-bye on her stoop, declining to come up. “I want to do this right,” he’d said.Rightseemed rather subjective, but Rae hadn’t debated syntax with him. She’d just kissed him once more, then twice more, and then scampered up all ninety-six stairs, light as a snowflake.
Rae switched into listening mode, rhythmically sipping wine as Ellen and Mina compared notes on their equally perfect boys (they hadn’t yet earned the promotion to “men,” as far as Rae was concerned) and Sarah prattled on about how dating women was so much more rewarding (“they actuallyexpressthings!”). At some point Rae became liberated enough to text Dustin,I like you a lot!
“Shit,” she said, cursing the inability to recall texts like you could recall emails. “He’s going to think I’m one of those psycho girls who starts planning the wedding after two dates.”
She was that girl, of course, but Dustin didn’t need to know that until farther down the line, once he’d fallen in love with her properly.
“If he’s the right one, you can’t screw it up,” Mina proclaimed.
Ten minutes later, Rae clutched her phone, bargaining with the universe: if Dustin texted her back in the next five minutes, she’d donate five percent of her salary—after taxes—to charity. “I’ve become a crazy person,” she announced solemnly. Twenty-five years old, supporting herself in Manhattan, holding it together day in and day out through the long hours and corporate criticism, and yet here she was, coming undone because some guy she barely knew hadn’t texted her back.
“Feelings do that,” Ellen said. “It can’t be helped.”
Rae figured it could actually be helped, but she didn’t feel like it could be, so she stayed quiet, ears pricked for the soft buzz of a text. She reread his last message several more times—I had a wonderful timelast night.The lack of exclamation point had seemed consistent with his usual text pattern, but now it seemed a blatant indication of his indifference. And worse, he hadn’t asked a question. The message was clearly just aNice knowing youformality to free him of any guilt of being one of those guys who leads a girl on and then drops off the face of the earth.
After thirty minutes of silence, Rae lobbed her phone onto the couch, out of sight. “It’s over,” she concluded. “I scared him off.”
“Stop that,” Ellen said. “He’s going to text back.”
“There’s a chance Rae’s right, though,” Mina said. “Remember that guy who ghosted me after I sent him a heart emoji?”
Ellen shot Mina a warning look. “That was different,” Ellen said, though Rae couldn’t help tallying up all the guys who’d ghosted Ellen out of the blue.
“I’m just saying not to take it personally if hedoesghost you,” Mina said. “There’s high flight risk with the Lost Boys of New York.”
“It should be calledBoyhattan, notManhattan,” Sarah agreed. “Another benefit of dating women.”
“It’s over,” Rae repeated.
“Tell us again how he introduced you at the party,” Sarah said.
“He just said, ‘This is Rae,’” she recounted. “Is that bad?” It had seemed elegantly vague at the time, but in hindsight it seemed apathetically vague, like he could’ve been introducing a coworker, or a neighbor he occasionally ran into at the bagel shop.
“But did he say, ‘This is Rae’ or ‘This isRae’?” Mina clarified.
“Or ‘Thisis Rae’?” Ellen added, unable to keep from jumping in on the analysis.
Rae racked her brain. “Just ‘This is Rae,’ I think.”
“Oh,” Mina and Sarah said in unison.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Ellen cautioned.
But Rae’s mind had already leapt to every bad outcome. She’d just been someone to take to a party so Dustin didn’t have to show up alone. Maybe his ex-girlfriend had been there with her newboyfriend and Dustin had been trying to make her jealous. He was probably hooking up with her right now.
“I’m moving to London,” Rae announced matter-of-factly, as if this was something she had considered prior to ten seconds ago.
Her phone buzzed. She leapt from the floor onto the couch to check it.
It was Dustin.
Still smiling from last night. Can I take you to dinner Tuesday before you fly back to corn country?
Rae hardly even heard Ellen’s smug “I told you so” or Mina’s “I stand corrected!” She just spewed a few exhales and grinned stupidly at her cracked screen, as if it were to thank for Dustin’s reply.
