Page 72 of Exes and O's

Mom huffs at us as she passes by with beady-eyed Hillary. “Crystal! People are eating.”

Crystal mouths a lazySorryand looks to Mel for support. “I love you. But the last thing I want is for you to get hurt again.” She watches me for a few more beats. “Do you mind if I consult Scott?”

I barely have time to agree before Scott’s face takes up Crystal’s phone screen. He tells her about the trauma of being kidnapped and nearly punching Trevor in the face. Crystal laughs, her faceaglow at the sight of her soon-to-be husband, as if they’ve been apart for days and not mere hours. “Can you step away for a minute? I have a question for you.”

“About what?” Scott asks, taking refuge away from the guys in the gym changing room.

I press my cheek against Crystal’s so I’m visible on camera. “We need your advice. A behavioral analysis, if you will.”

“We need your help with Trevor,” Crystal clarifies, giving him a brief rundown of my situation. “Has he said anything about Tara to you?”

He raises a contemplative brow. “He talks about her sometimes at work.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Crystal waves a hand. “This is important information, babe. Care to elaborate?”

“I didn’t think it was a huge deal.” Scott frowns. “He’ll just laugh at texts she sends at work. Nothing too major.”

“He’s your friend. Could you ask him for us? Get the intel. Whatever it is that dudes do,” Crystal requests.

Scott is mildly taken aback, like we’ve just asked him to commit a crime on our behalf. “You want me to flat-out ask him if he likes Tara?”

“Yes,” we say in unison.

He leans against the hand dryer, accidentally turning it on. “Fine. But he’s gonna know something is up. We never talk about feelings,” he shouts over the fan.

My lips twist like I’ve just sucked a lemon. “Seriously? Never in your decade of friendship have you talked about feelings?”

“Unless you count our feelings toward hockey, Crocs, or firecalls, no.” When we shake our heads in derision, he gets defensive. “Hey, it’s not like I’ve never tried. He’s just not a very open guy.”

I sigh. “That’s... pathetic.”

Crystal scoffs in solidarity. “Gotta love toxic masculinity.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Scott rolls his eyes and leans in close to the camera, suddenly channeling FBI agent vibes. “Okay, I’ll ask him tonight when we go out once he’s liquored up. How should I play it? Casual? Or like I’m an overprotective new brother who’ll murder him if he breathes amorously in your direction?”

“I mean, I appreciate the brotherly support, but definitely not the latter,” I warn. “Just be casual and report back.”

“Deal.”

TARA:Hello?? I haven’t heard from you in like an hour. You promised a play-by-play.

SCOTT:Sorry. At club now... Trev ordered a beer. He’s hanging out with a girl.

TARA:A girl? Who?

SCOTT:She met him here. I think they already know each other. Her name is Kayla or something.

TARA:Is she tall? Smiles with her mouth open?

SCOTT:Yeah.

Kyla. It’s Kyla.

Trevor’s ex-girlfriend.

LIVE WITH TARAROMANCEQUEEN—THE PLAYBOY TROPE AND WHY I HATE IT

[Tara’s face is partially obscured by poor lighting. She is neck-deep in a hot tub, her hair crunchy and partially frozen, looking like a straight-up mess.]

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