There’s a gut-churning silence that sits between us as Jessie lowers her phone to the table. I can feel my jaw gaping, but can’t for the life of me pick my chin up off the floor. It’s funny that in this city of eight million plus people, somehow this would happen to me. Me…the guy who trips over imaginary cracks in the sidewalk and blurts out shit before giving it any real thought. It’s only natural I’d unknowingly commit this obvious online dating folly. It makes sense I’d end up taking out the friend of another woman I dated throughout this entire challenge. But of all the damn women so far, why did it have to be Sami?
“It’s not what you think,” I stutter, finally able to shake off my shock a little.
“Oh, this oughta be rich,” she shoots, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. The snarl on her face makes her frown lines that much thicker. With her caked on makeup, arching eyebrows drawn on, and fake tits too big for her body, Jessie is everything I hate about the opposite sex. People seem to be straying in droves toward the inauthentic these days. I want no part in it.
“I’d really just rather talk to Sami.”
She shakes her head, curling her lip back at me. “You don’t get it. She doesn’t want to talk to you,” she hisses, her tone thick with attitude. “You think she doesn’t know I’m here? You think she didn’t send me? I recognized your ass the minute we matched. I’d seen your pictures before.”
In everything she’s unveiling, it’s the fact that Sami thought that much about us to show her friends my picture that catches my attention. My heart leaps in my chest and I can feel the smile stretch across my face, though I never intended for it to do so.
“What are you smiling about? This isn’t fucking funny. Not one bit.”
The waiter approaches, hesitating for a moment before I quickly wave him off.
“No, I’m sorry. Listen, I just want to talk to Sami. I’ll explain everything to her. This is just one big screw up.” Digging for my phone, I catch her dropping her hands to the table and leaning toward me in my peripheral.
“You don’t fucking get it. We set you up!”
The way she says it, the arrogance in her tone, makes my blood boil. She’s not here for Sami’s sake. She’s here to stir up the drama. She’s obviously the type who gets off on it. I pull out my phone and search for Sami’s name in my contacts when Jessie lets out an exaggerated scoff.
“She’s not going to respond. I promise.” She smiles, a stupid little smile that draws my eyes to her, and she crosses her arms again, leaning back into the chair.
“You get off on this shit, don’t you? You don’t give a fuck about Sami.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t give a fuck about Sami,” I repeat. “It’s a game to you. But I do care about her. A lot. And I don’t give a shit what you say. I’m going to text her, pay this bill, and get the fuck out of here.”
“That’s really great, Romeo. It still doesn’t mean she’s going to answer. In fact, I happen to know that she won’t. She doesn’t mess around with players. She’s a good girl. She’s been burned way too many times in the past.”
“And I’m a good guy, who would never even think of hurting her,” I blurt out, though I wish I could take it back. I couldn’t give two shits about proving anything to this Jessie chick. It’s Sami I need to talk to.
Flustered, my eyes flit around the bar for the waiter.
“A good guy doesn’t tell a girl what you told Sami while still trying to date other people. I figured you were just bored and swiping. That, I could understand. But, what was it,”—she puts her palms up and shrugs—“a minute before you started hitting me up.”
She drops her hands, shaking her head with a look of judgment as I wave the universal ‘check please’ sign for our waiter across the room.
“You just don’t get it,” I say, finishing my beer before digging out my wallet.
As I fish for cash, she asks, “What’s there to get? You guys aren’t an item or anything like that. She doesn’t expect anything out of you. She’s just not into the shit you’re trying to pull.”
“What shit?”
“You’re a liar. She’s not into liars. And she’s been through a whole lot in her life. More than you could ever even understand. She doesn’t have time for people like you,” she responds, curling her lip back and narrowing her eyes on me.
“I’m no fucking liar and you don’t know a thing about me.” I toss two twenties to the table, more than enough to cover our drinks, and I stand from my chair. Her eyes follow me as she looks completely blown away I’m about to leave her by herself in the restaurant. “That ought to be enough. You have a good night.”
I proceed toward the front door when she calls out, “She’s not going to respond!”
I fight the urge to tell her to choke on her weave, and instead make my way out the door. My focus is on the phone, my thumb hovering over the call button.
The hollow ring through the receiver and the long, painstaking seconds of silence between them cuts through me like the cold wind that whips my pea coat, the fabric dancing around my waist. Another ring, and then another, before her soft voice comes over the line in the automated message.
“Hi, you’ve reached Sami. Sorry I couldn’t get to my phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
BEEP.
For a moment, only nervous breaths escape my mouth, and words do not form. Logic flies right out the window.
“Sami,” I finally say, hoping somehow I can pass along my sincerity through my words. “Sami, you gotta talk to me. It’s not what you think. I can explain everything if you just give me the chance.” I hesitate, letting out a deep breath as I speed walk down the sidewalk. “Just call me… please.”
I reluctantly hit the ‘end’ button and stare at the screen mindlessly as if it’ll somehow make the phone ring, and I’ll hear Sami saying hello on the other end. But it doesn’t, and I make the long walk home, my body numb to the cold as I work up a text.
I’ve completed, reread, and deleted a novel’s worth of text messages in the time it takes for me to get home. Everything sounds so ridiculous. Nothing sounds right. I finally settle on, Sami, seriously, this is all one big misunderstanding. Please let me explain.
I shake my head in frustration, slipping my cell into my jeans pocket, and heading straight for the back door where a fresh joint is waiting. To my surprise, my pocket vibrates and I snatch the phone from it quickly.
Sami: It is what it is. I’ve heard all the excuses before. I don’t even know why I mess with these stupid apps. I really liked you, Gavin. I thought very highly of you. But I’ve seen your kind before. I’ve been through it more times than I can count. I’m done coming second. Thought you were different. Listen, we weren’t together or anything. You don’t owe me a thing. Take care of yourself.
It hurts.
A ruthless fucking grind on the nervous system.
A need to say something, anything, to change her mind—to show her the truth—but knowing deep down I’m as helpless as I ever was.
Me: Hear me out, Sami. It’s going to sound ridiculous, but God’s honest truth, my buddy proposed this challenge, thirty dates in thirty days from that stupid app. I took him up on it because I needed the money. It sounds crazy, but I’m serious. You gotta believe me.
There’s a long delay as I watch the little dots come and go, telling me she keeps writing and then deleting her text messages. I fight the urge to text her again. I light the joint instead, taking a long, drawn-out inhale with my eyes still pasted on the phone screen.
Sami: I’m not an idiot. Take care.
Me: I swear to you. What do I have to lie about?
I wait for a response, but it never comes. No matter how hard I wish it to, the little dots don’t show. I think about messaging her again, but talk myself out of it. I knew I’d talk myself out of it.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe not.