Page 2 of Falling for the Forward

I park my old sedan in our designated spot in our building’s parking lot. “You can’t tell whether someone’s an asshole by looking at their picture.”

Mara scoffs. “I do it on Tinder every day and I haven’t been wrong yet. Also, I’m not just basing it on his picture. I read articles. A reporter saw him smashing a hockey stick in the locker room after a game because he was so pissed about his team losing. It was probably roid rage.”

I shake my head. We’ve been friends since high school, and Mara has always been quick to judge and slow to change her mind. I should be used to it by now.

“I think they test for that.”

“Guess he’s just an asshole then,” she says. “You should definitely accidentally walk into his bathroom when he’s getting out of the shower sometime and see if he’s hung. All the guys with great dicks are assholes. It’s so unfair.”

We both get out of the car, meeting up behind it to walk into the building.

“I’ll pass because, first of all, that’s a disgusting thing to do, and also, it’s a great way to get fired. I can’t keep my alcoholic best friend supplied with wine if I lose my job.”

“I preferwine enthusiasttoalcoholic.”

“Are you studying today?”

She groans as she takes out her key to unlock our door. “Yeah, unfortunately. I’m over studying for the bar every waking minute. I just want to rot and drink.”

I can’t wait for Mara to take the bar exam in a couple of weeks so she’ll stop stressing about failing it. We’ve been roommates since we both graduated from Ohio State four years ago. I planned to use my marketing degree for the business Tyler and I started, but it’s been such a catastrophic failure that I can’t even think about another marketing job. I’ve always loved kids and I now wish I would have gotten a teaching degree instead. So far, nannying doesn’t even feel like work. Olivia, Charlotte and Hallie are sweet girls who are still grieving the loss of their mom and adjusting to their new lives. Getting to help them with those things is more gratifying than any job I’ve ever had.

I didn’t realize how much I needed a fresh start. When I’m with the girls, I don’t feel like a loser who got duped by a con man. We talk and laugh. I still think about them on the weekends and I’m always thrilled to see them again on Mondays.

Once we’re back in the apartment, I walk into the kitchen and grab a can of pizza Pringles, grabbing a stack and then passing the can to Mara as she sits down on the couch. “Are Dex and Harry doing trivia tonight? I might actually be able to go if I get my laundry done.”

She lights up.“I’ll text Dex. I deserve beer and bar nachos for dinner.”

“I’m on a ramen budget, but I’m definitely down for trivia.”

“We’re eating at the bar, and I’m buying. You deserve dinner out after that shipment of The Asshole’s Alien Invaders.”

I remember being skeptical of Tyler’s idea for a butt plug that had the wordinvaderin the name, but as usual, I acquiesced.Trust me, babe, he said.

“How could I have been so stupid?” I ask for at least the hundredth time since he ghosted me.

“Good dick blinds us all, sweetie.”

I sigh softly. “It was marginal dick.”

Mara points at me and practically yells. “Finally, you’re admitting it! Iknewit! You said he was good in bed, but you never looked satisfied after a night with him.”

“I’m in no mood for your shit,” I warn.

“Bet I know what youarein the mood for since you haven’t had decent sex in like four years.”

“I will stab you in the eye. You’ll be a pirate attorney with an eye patch.”

“Yo-ho! I’d rock the shit out of an eye patch.”

I laugh at her enthusiasm. My favorite thing about Mara is her relentless determination to beMara. She always--one hundred percent of the time--has an opinion to offer and a joke to make. Our friends Harry and Dex say they plan to come to court once she works her way into the courtroom. Just to be entertained by watching her have to stay quiet.

I’m not like Mara. I don’t have many crisply defined personality traits. Maybe...punctuality? But that’s not exactly something people flock to. I’m mostly easygoing, notunattractive, and I’m a pretty good cook. Overall, I’m more forgettable than I’d like to be.

“My phone’s in my bag. Can I use yours to text Dex?” Mara asks.

I pass it to her.

“Looks like you got texts from Dex and Carter.”

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