CHAPTER 1
Six months later
Lounging on Tiffany’s sofa in sweats and a grubby t-shirt, balled up dirty tissues surrounded me as I clenched onto a tub of double chocolate fudge ice cream. Talking to my mother about my breakup six months ago was never easy. According to her, I let the one slip away and I’m going to die an old maid. Being the only child, I just happened to be the one responsible for her future grandchildren and I royally fucked that up for her.
“Seriously, D.J., get your shit together and let’s go out tonight. You're beginning to make me sick.” Tiffany stood next to the television with one hand on her hip and the other gripping her coffee mug.
“I can't. I don't even know how to function properly around the opposite sex anymore.” I set the ice cream tub down onto the coffee table and blew my nose into another tissue. Tiffany gave me a stern look as her eyes soaked in the heaping mess of tissues and myself included. “For real! You think I’m being over dramatic, but what happened when we tried this three months ago? We went out and the first guy to buy me a drink I told him every little fucking quirk about Aaron and started crying in my vodka.”
“Ugh. True. Just download that dating app then.” She shrugged and sipped her coffee. “Start talking to dudes through that so that you can filter your thoughts and edit them before you hit send.” She turned to walk away and stopped, looking back at me. “You have to do something though because I can’t handle this much longer, if you don’t get some dick soon I’m forcing you on a shopping spree to the naughty novelty store because you, my friend, need a good O. And for the love of God, stop watching these Hallmark movies that make you cry, I’ve had enough!” With that, she walked away toward the balcony.
I sighed and took in my surroundings. What am I doing with my life? It’s been six months since Aaron and I broke up and I’m doing the very thing I swore to myself I wouldn't do-- I'm crying over a dude. Granted, yes, we spent six years together and he was my first love but I never got to experience anyone else. Maybe it was time for me to try and move on.
Pulling out my laptop from the bottom shelf of the coffee table, I typed in dating apps into the search bar. A list came up, all of which tried to convince me that my soul mate was out there waiting for me.
HA! Right.
I clicked on one that seemed to be the least tacky out of them all, well, aside from the Christian one. But there was no way any Christian guy would ever be able to take me around his mother so that was completely out of the question.
Filling in my information, I paused on the section where I was supposed to fill in what my hobbies were.
- Sit around and wallow in self pity
- Clip coupons that I never use
- Watch Hallmark movies for an excuse to cry so that it doesn’t seem as though hobby #1 happens that often.
I erased it all and slammed the laptop shut. I couldn’t put that shit on a dating profile. There was no way I could do this.
I’m not qualified for love.
I stood up from the sofa and hobbled to the bathroom, I had laid there for too long apparently because my legs were stiff. Looking into the mirror, my eyes widened as I took in the mess of reflection that stared back at me. My dark hair was showing my natural blonde roots and the strands of my hair were shiny and stringy as I hadn’t showered for three days. Bags sunk under my eyes and my skin was pale. I shook my head in disgust and ran out of the bathroom and out to the balcony to confront Tiffany.
“What the fuck!” I hollered at her and she looked up at me slowly, puffing on her smoke.
“What now?” She asked in an annoyed tone. Which I didn’t blame her for having, I was annoyed with myself at this point.
“Why didn’t you tell me that I was letting myself rot away? Do you see my fucking hair and the bags under my eyes? I mean, fuck, they’re big enough to carry all of Mary Poppins’s shit from her bag!” My voice cracked as I rambled off to her.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that you look like fucked pie for months now. Seriously, it’s not like you just started looking like you’ve been hit by a Greyhound bus overnight, D.J.” She chuckled and her eyes actually went soft on me. “Okay, come on. Go shower and we’ll have a girls’ day and go out tonight. We can even go to the gay bar so you don't have to worry about being hit on unless it’s by a female in which case we can pretend we’re lovers.” Tiffany stood up from the chair she was sitting in and put out her cigarette butt into the crystal ashtray that sat on the metal table.
I slumped my shoulders and ran my hands down my face, stretching the skin under my eyes and sighed with my mouth wide opened.
“Jesus Christ, you almost look better like that. Honestly.” Tiffany smacked my ass and walked ahead of me and I ran after her slapped her in hers.
“You’re such a bitch, Tiffany.” I laughed for what felt like the first time in a while but I knew that wasn’t true because Tiffany always found someway to make me crack up.
“But I’m honest, so does that really make me a bitch? I think not. I think that makes me a damn good friend.” She stuck her nose in the air and cockily brushed off a shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, true.” I admitted through an exaggerated groan. “I’m gonna go shower.”
Tiffany threw her hands up toward the ceiling and screamed, “Hallelujah! Thank you Lord Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
I dropped my jaw and flipped her off before taking off down the hallway to the bathroom. I may have lost my first love and that sucked more dick than a drug addicted prostitute looking to pay for her next fix, but I still had my asshole of a best friend and for that I am one lucky bitch.
***
After the two of us showered and got ready for our girls’ day, we headed out of the apartment door and walked past one of our neighbors that always gave me the heebie-jeebies. He’s an older man, wore big trifocal glasses and always smelled like a bag of Fritos and ripe onions, but that wasn’t the bad part. Every time we passed by him he’d hold up his pointer and middle finger and slither his tongue between them in our direction.
Fuck. There he goes. Ugh, I’m going to barf.
“Pleasure to see you, too, Mr. 38.” Tiffany poked her tongue in her cheek and motioned her fist in sync with it, mimicking a blowjob. Mr. 38 then let out a raspy, gargley laugh and winked at us.
Lovely.
“Why do you always pull that crap with him? It’s disgusting.” I dry heaved and Tiffany busted up laughing.
“Good God, D.J., chill out. He’s an old man that just needs a little excitement in life. He’s harmless. So what if he goes into apartment #38 and pops a little blue pill and wanks off at the thought of me blowing him? Good for him!” She threw a powerful fist up in the air.
“You’ve got a very strange way of thinking, Tiff.” I shook my head and followed her out to the parking lot where her car was parked.
“You act surprised and as though I don’t know that already…” She rolled her eyes as she opened her car door and slid in, I followed suit and hopped in on the passenger side.
I grabbed my phone out of my purse and plugged it into the aux so that I could control the music.
“Please don’t play any of your angsty heartbreak shit. We’re going to have a good day and a great fucking night, right?” Tiffany arched an eyebrow at me in question, and I nodded in agreement as I scrolled through my playlists. Of course the most recent ones I’d made were breakup playlists. Finally, after scrolling closer to end I found some that Tiff had actually made for a couple of our road trips.
“I tried making an account for one of those dating apps today.” I admitted over the music. Tiff shot a quick glance at me, then the road, and then back at me with her eyes widened and her mouth hung open in disbelief.
“No frickin’ way, Devin motherfucking Jepperson has finally grown into her vagina.” She held her hand up toward me and waited for a high five, I began to laugh and I swatted her hand away.
“Yeah, I got as far as the hobby section and I gave up. I have no hobbies, I have no special talents, I don’t even know what I’m looking for in a mate.” I cranked the knob on the door to roll the window down.
“Oh, good grief. You don’t even have to fill in that shit. Just make up some stuff and then put your hottest selfie up there and you’re good to go. No one really pays attention to the shit about you, they just look at your pic and think hmm… yes I would love to see my cock in her mouth or oh yeah I want to grip that brown hair in my fist while I pound her from behind.” Tiffany opened up her pack of smokes and placed one between her lips then grabbed her lucky white lighter, and flicked the flame to her cigarette.
“You’re going to die of lung cancer before we’re even old enough to cause havoc strolling around the nursing home hallways in our wheelchairs.”
“Take one and you can die young with me.” She pulled into the mall parking lot and parked the car next to a big lifted black Chevy Silverado with two sexy as sin and muscular as hell men.
“Why are you parking by them? I haven’t gotten my hair done yet or my nails.” I scrambled to look at myself in the visor mirror to check myself out and see just how terrible I actually looked.
Tiffany got out of her beat up car exuding confidence and ran her fingers through her bright blonde hair. She grabbed her leather jacket out of her back seat and slipped in on, looking like a true bad bitch.
That is my best friend. God, I’d give anything to have her balls or at least one of them.
Tiffany peered over her shoulder at them and gave a nod of her head as if to say what’s up? The guy from the driver’s side stepped out first and exchanged words with Tiffany that I couldn’t hear, but by the looks of things they had instantly hit it off.
“D.J., I’m gonna get lunch with them while you’re getting your hair done, is that cool?” She mouthed he’s so fucking hot toward me and I chuckled.
“Yeah, totally cool.” I said through a big smile. I threw the strap of my purse over my shoulder and slammed her door shut.
We all walked to the entrance of the mall together, Tiffany and hot mystery dude #1 in a dark olive green t-shirt that hugged his form, military uniform pants, and brown boots. Then hot mystery dude #2 in the same attire.
He held his hand out to shake my hand, “I’m Jared.” I grasped his thick hand and fumbled around for my name in my mind.
“Um… I’m D-D.J.” I finally stuttered, watching as a grin stretched his smooth lips. That was when I saw the most horrific sight, not nearly as bad as Mr. 38 but his teeth were awful. I could visibly see the plaque on them and the chewing tobacco stuck all over them. I pulled my phone out as soon as we got inside, quickly typing in dating sites into the web search bar I exchanged see ya laters with Tiffany and the military mystery me, and then dashed away toward the hair salon.
As soon as I walked in, the stylist with bright pink hair and cat eyeglasses dazzled in rhinestones greeted me.
“Oh, sweetie. Yes, you need your hair rescued.” She rushed over to me and threw the black cape looking thing around my neck and walked me over to a chair. “What are you wanting done to it? All brown again?” She asked while fluffing her fingers through the mop on top of my head.
“Black. I want as black as black can get to match my heart.” Her eyes widened and she waited for a moment before responding. I assumed it was because she was waiting for me to say I was kidding, but I wasn’t. I needed a change, a big change.
“Well, okay then! Black as black can get to match your heart is coming right up. How about a trim, too?” She asked in her peppy voice.
“Chop it all off. Keep it longer on top so I can fuck with it, but chop the sides to where it’s basically buzzed but not quite that short.”
“Are you going through a breakup?” Miss Pink Hair Cat Eyes questioned with a scrunched face.
“Nah. That was six months ago. I just need a change.”
“Okey dokey.” She walked away toward a back room.
I popped the internet up on my phone and found a dating site called Hookd^. It’s specifically designed for hook ups, which is perfect. That’s all I need right now. I didn’t need to find the one; I just needed to find a couple or several for right now.
I needed to be D-stracted.