Page 30 of Not Your Basic Love Story

“True that. I’m sorry, I’ve been talking about myself this whole time. How are you? How’re the applications going?” I asked, flagging down the tall, buff, extensively tattooed bartender and pointing at our near-empty glasses.

“I’ve been accepted.”

“That’s great! Congratulations! Which program? Here at UBC?”

She nodded but with much less enthusiasm than I expected.

“You don’t seem thrilled. I thought this was what you wanted,” I said.

Angelina picked at her soggy coaster and shrugged. “I’m not sure if being a dental hygienist is what I want to do for the rest of my life. What if it gets boring?”

“It doesn’t matter what you do. Everything gets boring from time to time.”

“You’re an engineer. How could your job be boring?”

“Well, okay,technically,I’m not an engineer. I didn’t pass my final exam…” I trail off, my cheeks reddening. “But maybe someday I will. I love my job, but even then, it does get boring from time to time.” That was an understatement. I hadn’t felt challenged in my job in years. I failed the final exam not once, but twice. Re-taking it was pretty low on my list of priorities, even if it would open some doors for me.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found something that makes you happy,” Angelina stated. “All I want to do, really, is travel. I want to see the world. But that takes money, and at least I’d be making a lot of it.”

The bartender set down our fresh drinks and removed our empty glasses, nudging at the menu before us. Angelina picked it up and eyed it half-heartedly.

“True enough,” I agreed. “I spent the first half of my twenties travelling. You won’t regret it. And you can totally do something else down the road, you know? It’s not like you’re married to your career.”

“Not like with a person,” Angelina said, nudging me under the table.

“Oh, please! We’ve been together like, what, four months?” I blushed.

“You’ve probably already thought about marrying him, and about what your kids will look like, and what you’ll name them, and about your golden doodle named Sparky, and your white picket fence,” she teased.

“Sparky? Really? That’s the best name you could come up with for my imaginary dog?” I laughed.

“It was spur of the moment. What can I say?” She glanced over the menu. “Want some hot wings?”

“Naw. I can’t do spicy food.”

“How about nachos?”

“Hell yeah!”

But even the giant plate of nachos we devoured couldn’t distract me from the truths she’d uncovered in our conversation. She was right, of course, the wise nineteen-year-old that she is. Ihadimagined it all already. And now, it could be banking completely on whether or not his family would approve of me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Before meeting each other’s parents, Dev and I decided to test the waters and introduce me to his friends. The perfect opportunity arose with his twenty-fifth birthday.

Damn. Twenty-five. He was so much younger than me.

I’d learned about our age difference back in Mexico. I told myself it didn’t bother me, and if our genders were reversed nobody would bat an eye, but a lifetime of social conditioning for women to seek older men and men to seek younger women was difficult to suppress. Our age difference didn’t bother me day-to-day. Hell, he was more mature than most thirty-year-old men I’d met.

Around others, though, the nagging worry of being judged wormed its way into my stomach.

I checked my reflection in the selfie mode of my phone for the hundredth time as the Skytrain jostled its way east towards Surrey, riding to the end of the line. Despite Dev not being a drinker, I was meeting him and his friends at a pub. It was Friday night, and I was looking forward to having a drink or two. Yoga and my runs around the sea-wall can usually fuel me to get through the monotony of my week, my day-job dragging by, but by Friday,I’m in need of something a little stronger.

At the last Skytrain station, I descended to see Dev waiting for me. A smile lit up his face, vanquishing any jitters I had about meeting his friends. We wrapped our arms around one another, and he kissed my forehead.

“Happy birthday,” I grinned, lifting up on my toes to smooch his lips.

The rear window of Dev’s car rolled down.

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