Page 45 of Cinderella Screwed Me Over
Stephanie took a sharp turn, and I gripped the handle over the door. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize we were so close to the turn.” Her GPS spoke in the background, giving the next set of directions. “You like Jake, though, right? So far so good?”
“Yeah, I like him. I have fun when I’m with him, and he’s funny, and he does have the smokin’-hot thing going for him. Plus, he’s well aware of all my rules. He said something about hanging out tonight, but since I had this thing, I told him I couldn’t.”
“Hello? Why didn’t you invite him to come along?”
I looked at her, mouth hanging open like the idiot I was. “I didn’t even think of it.” All I would’ve had to do was ask, and I could’ve had Jake by my side all night, making everything better…or further complicating it. “It’s probably a good thing I didn’t invite him. If we start hanging out all the time, someone’s going to get clingy. I’m not even saying it won’t be me. Then there will be the ‘where are you right now’ phone calls, and ‘why didn’t you call me.’ I don’t want to get into all that.”
“But serial monogamy is what you say you want, right? Wasn’t that your decision?”
I bit my lip. “That’s the theory. It’s still in the testing phase.”
Steph took another right-hand turn. “You don’t want to miss that puppy-love phase, though. It’s one of the best parts of a relationship.”
“But how do you have that all-about-you period without getting attached?”
“You don’t.”
I threw my head back and groaned. “I’m starting to think my plan has a few flaws.”
“Girl, I’ve been telling you that for the past year.” Stephanie parallel parked in front of a bar called Hot Shots. “Wow, this place looks kind of ghetto. Anthony said it was supposed to be the new, hip nightclub.”
The run-down bar had a layer of dust on the windows, as well as neon flashing booze signs hanging half-lit around the place. There was no nightclub about it. Several people sat along the bar, drinking and watching the game. Pool tables lined the other side of the room. The people there didn’t look like they cared about name-brand clothes or drinking the fanciest wine in the place—one guy even had his butt-crack hanging out for the world to see. Anthony usually made a point of hitting the newest and hottest places in the city. So where were we?
Anthony, Karl, and Finn, Anthony’s other college friend and groomsman, walked up to Steph and me, and Anthony kissed Steph on the cheek. “I got the place wrong,” he said. “This place is Hot Shots. The place I meant to go is called Shots.” He wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the place. “It’s up north. You want to go?”
Even though he hadn’t asked for my opinion, I gave it anyway. “I say we stay. If we drive up there now, we’ll spend most of our night in the car.”And I’m not about to drive with Finn and Karl like you would surely suggest.“We can get some greasy food and shoot some pool. How bad could it be?”
Steph put her arms around Anthony. “I don’t really care where I am, as long as I’m with you.”
Sure, I was happy for Steph and her lovey-dovey phase, but I occasionally missed the girl who used to tell boys how it was while they cowered in fear.
Anthony gestured to a table in the corner. “Let’s have a seat, then.” As we walked, he looked at me. “You remember Finn, of course.”
I smiled. “Of course. Hey, Finn.”
He gave a tiny nod. “Darby.”
That was about all you’d get out of Finn. He didn’t say much. According to Anthony he used to be a party animal but had mellowed over the years. I wasn’t sure if Anthony was qualified to define a party animal.
Anthony pulled out a chair for Stephanie. “And you and Karl just met a week or so ago.”
Karl sat across from me. “We did. She told me that I only preach communication to keep getting paid.Ihave a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a master’s in marriage and family counseling. I teach workshops, yet she apparently knows more about it than I do.”
I gritted my teeth, trying to remain calm. “You’re twisting my words. I simply expressed my opinion on communication between men and women.”
“Yeah, that they shouldn’t even try to communicate,” Karl said.
Anthony waved his hand in the air, a nervous expression on his face. “Where is our waiter?”
Anthony’s obvious discomfort didn’t deter me. If Karl thought he could slam me and have the final word, he was mistaken. “What I said was everyone preaches communication like men and women have thecapabilityof communicating the same way. My personal belief is that if we realize we’llneverunderstand each other, we wouldn’t all feel like failures. The part about counselors preaching it to get paid was thrown in for a joke. Obviously counselors don’t know anything about that, either.” I shot Karl a smile. “And I didn’t even need a degree to figure that out.”
“Let’s go play some pool,” Stephanie said. “I’m not that hungry.”
“But I’m hungry,” Anthony said.
I kept my eyes on Karl. “See right there? Stephanie was trying to subtly change the subject to keep you and me from communicating our bitter feelings toward each other. Since Anthony isn’t a woman, he didn’t pick up on that. He simply heard her saying she wasn’t hungry.”
Karl leaned forward. “I’m not that hungry, either. How about instead of passive aggressively jabbing at each other all night, we go play a game of pool. Loser buys dinner.”
