- Lucy -
It started to rain right after I got off the phone with Aiden. It was one of those unexpected bursts that almost seems to erupt from the sunshine. I’m sure if I’d been looking at it from indoors, I would’ve found it quite beautiful.
However, it was hard to see the silver lining once I realized I would probably be soaked through by the time I got home. On the bright side, I’d finished the cheesecake so at least I didn’t have to be the pathetic girl scoffing dessert from a napkin in the rain.
Just as I noticed my shoulders were effectively drenched, I heard a honk and looked towards the street. A familiar Audi pulled up to the sidewalk and rolled down the window.
“You sure you don’t want that lift?” Aiden asked.
I ran over to the car and got in. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“And you’re my good deed of the day,” he said.
“Did you come this way cause you knew it was going to rain?”
He shook his head. “No, I came this way cause Chelsea’s cooking tonight, and I’m in no hurry to get home.”
“What’s she making?”
“I don’t know. Would it be terrible of me to stop for a burger?”
I let my head fall back against the seat. “Yeah, it would. You can’t do that.”
“Do you remember Mrs. Monrovick?”
“From seventh grade English?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Cause last time Chelsea made a one pot wonder, it looked like her face.”
I shook my head. “That’s fucked up. She was a nice lady.”
“With an oatmeal face.”
I smiled.
“Hey- would you like to come?”
I laughed. “I already ate.”
“I’m sure there’s enough bird food to go around.”
“No thanks. And I don’t think Chelsea would appreciate you inviting me.”
“She wouldn’t mind.”
“Yes she would. She hates me.”
“No she doesn’t.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say that. Really. She doesn’t even try to hide it.” She deliberately calls me by the wrong name every time I see her even though she knows I’m one of your oldest friends. Surely you’ve noticed that?
“So tell me about your date,” he said, flicking his turn signal on.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Cause you’re just going to make fun of me.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
I sighed. “I don’t even know where to start. Oh no wait- there is a clear beginning.” I straightened up. “So back in high school, the guy was robotripping and Jesus came to him-”
“Did you ask what he took cause I might enjoy dinner more if I got some.”
“No, I didn’t. Sorry,” I said. “But I’m sure it’s something you can get over the counter.”
“Noted.”
“And let’s see.” I squinted out the windshield. “He lives at home right now because he’s saving money so he can start his own skateboard academy.”
Aiden’s thick eyebrows came together. “Is that even a thing?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I suppose I could’ve asked his parents because they were there.”
He shook his head and checked his mirrors. “No they weren’t.”
“Oh yeah. Both of ‘em. Just watching the date. Super normal.”
“I don’t understand why it didn’t work out.”
I smiled. “I know, right? Actually, I thought he was the perfect guy until he suggested that the pink streaks in my hair were a cry for help.”
He turned and looked at me. “I think they suit you,” he said, his eyes smiling. “Better than the green anyway.”
“I’m not saying it’s the craziest Tinder date I’ve gone on, but it was the first time anyone’s told me I’m perfect the way God made me.”
“Aww,” Aiden said, making a right hand turn. “He sounds sweet.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Among other things,” he added.
I kept my eyes on his forearms as he changed gears, surprised that they hadn’t shrunk from his rugby playing days. When we were kids, they were the same size as mine. Now they must’ve been two or three times bigger.
“I don’t know why you put yourself through this shit,” he said.
“It’s just a bit of fun.”
“Is it? It seems like so much effort.”
“Well, compared to having models throw themselves at you, I suppose it is kind of a hassle.”
“Models don’t throw themselves at me.”
“Really?” I asked. “Who was the last girl you dated that wasn’t a model?”
“Annie,” he said, turning off his wipers.
“Oh, I forgot about her. The dancer, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But she could’ve modeled.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I saw your sister’s getting married.”
“Facebook?”
“Yeah.” I looked out the window. Everything was wet and glistening in the sun. “I thought she already married the guy.”
“No, they just had a long engagement.”
“Bet John and Nancy didn’t like that.”
“No, they didn’t,” he said. “My Dad hates to drag out spending money. He wanted to get the wedding over with as soon as Dave popped the question.”
“How romantic.”
“I know. Romance means nothing to the guy. All he cares about is keeping up appearances and being practical.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s so successful.”
“Whatever. He’s a pain in the ass.”
“So when is the wedding finally happening?”
Aiden shrugged, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “End of the summer or early fall. I’m not sure if they set an exact date yet. I’m sure someone will let me know.”
“Have your folks met Chelsea?”
“Yeah,” he said. “A few times.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Well, do they like her?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Cause she’s a gold digger. “No reason. Just curious.”
“Her parents went to Yale so that scored big points, and my Mom was pretty much sold when she started name dropping designers she’d worked with.”
“So they hit it off?”
“I guess,” he said. “Most people like Chelsea, though, cause she’s-”
Fake?
“Polished.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I guess I just can’t imagine being described that way.”
He laughed. “I can’t imagine you being described that way either.”
“I’m afraid to ask what your parents think of me.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“At your Fourth of July party last year.”
“Oh right. When you wore all black.”
“I always wear black.”
“I know. It’s just really obvious on the Fourth of July.”
“Oh.”
“You honestly want to know?”
“Of course.”
“I think they’d be intimidated by you if they hadn’t known you since you were a kid.”
“What does that mean?”
“They think you’re edgy.”
“I can deal with that.” Beats polished any day.
“I don’t think you’re edgy though.”
“No?”
“I think you’re soft. I think it’s all a façade and you’re really Rainbow Brite on the inside.”
“You got me. Peel back my skin, and I’m just a pile of gummy bears.”
“How’s Alex?”
“I didn’t tell you?” I asked.
“Tell me what?”
“He just got dumped. My Dad said he’s not eating or sleeping.”
“What’s he doing then?”
“Writing sad songs alone in his room all day apparently.”
“Maybe something good will come out of it.”
I laughed. “You mean like he’ll be the next Adele?”
“Or Taylor Swift.”
“I like your thinking. I’ll tell my Dad not to worry and to continue starving him.”
“Good idea.” Aiden pulled up and stopped at a red light a few blocks from my place. “If my memory serves me, you didn’t really like his ex much anyway.”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I never like any of his girlfriends though.”
“Or any of mine.”
“That’s not true.”
“Who was the last girl you liked that I dated?”
“Molly Fox.”
Aiden raised his eyebrows. “I was fifteen.”
I shrugged. “She was nice.”
“She was smart, too.”
“Arguably the last girl you dated that was as smart as you are.”
“Whatever happened to her?” he asked.
“Why? You want to know if she’s modeling?”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, smiling straight ahead.
“I think she’s a teacher,” I said, turning towards him just in time to see his only dimple.
He stuck his bottom lip out and nodded. “Good to know.”
“Anywhere here is fine,” I said.
Aiden pulled into an empty space along the curb.
“Thanks for the ride. I would’ve been totally soaked by the time I got back here.”
“No worries. I’m glad I was in the neighborhood. Sorry I missed your initial cry for help.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I leaned forward and grabbed my purse off the floor.
“Lucy?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really think you’re going to meet someone with that stupid app?”
I pulled my keys out of my bag. “I meet people all the time with it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Who knows the future, Aiden? I’m just trying to be open minded.”
“Well, I salute you. I think you’ve got a lot of balls putting yourself out there like that.”
“Thanks.” I got out of the car. “Tell Chelsea I said hi, and I’ll cross my fingers for your dinner.”
“Please do.”
I closed the door and crossed the sidewalk, turning to wave as I let myself in and wishing he was right as I watched him drive away.
But he wasn’t.
I didn’t have a lot of balls at all. The truth was I used Tinder because I was totally gutless, because I wanted to seem normal, and because it gave me the perfect excuse to never get close to anybody.