Page 17 of Fun Together
“Name one time you’ve been serious enough with someone to bring them home to meet the family.”
“What about Hannah? We were together for six months.” I didn’t bring her home to meet the family because . . . well, she might have a point there.
“Six months is nothing.”
“Half a year is not nothing.” It was long enough for it to sting when I saw her cuddled up to another guy at our favorite cocktail spot. I stood there in shock watching them before they noticed me. He was twirling his hand in her hair mindlessly, like it was something they did every day.
After I confronted her, she said she was sorry, but she’d been trying to find a way to end things with me because she didn’t think I was serious about her. Or about anything, really.
“You have no goals,” she’d said. “I need to be with someone who is driven and wants the same things I do.”
“I have goals,” I protested. “I want the things you want.”
She just shook her head as if she pitied me. “You have a terrible way of showing it then.”
It felt awful that she saw me that way, but did I do anything to disprove what she said? I don’t want to be the kind of guy who comes across that way to the person he’s with.
Maybe I should start dating seriously again. I had a brief fling with someone right when I got back, but it’s been months since I’ve gone on a date.
The thought of meeting someone new used to excite me. I’d live for those initial moments of learning and discovering, finding what they like or don’t. But I can’t help but feel a little exhausted at the prospect of another night spent swiping left or right, coming up with a clever opening line. If I meet someone now, I want it to be organic. Two hands accidentally brushing against each other as we both reach for the same avocado at the grocery store.
Or as I’m handed a vibrating box.
I wonder if Faye is single.
It’s a thought I’ve had several times since I saw her yesterday. A thought I need to stop having. I think I’d rather get back on Hinge than get back to nurturing a crush on someone I shouldn’t.
“Well, give me a plus one. I’m bringing someone.”
Surely, I can find someone that I’d like to bring to the party in the next month.
She raises her eyebrows. “Okay. What about Andrew?”
“What about him?”
“You think he would come? I’d love to catch up with him.”
“Aren’t you already dating someone? Dylan? David?”
“You know his name is Daniel,” she says, making herself another mimosa. “We broke up last night.” She says this so casually that it takes me a second to register it.
“Fuck, Eves. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
She sniffs. “I’m fine.” She puts on a tough face, but she was with him for a few years so there’s no way she feels as casual about it as she sounds.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She balls up the biscuit wrapper and shoves it in the paper bag. “Let’s see. Do you want to hear about how I saw him texting another girl while we were at the gym last night? Or how he had the nerve to break up with me because he said I’mjust not meeting him where he’s at right now?”
“What does that even mean?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s for the best, though.”
“Of course it’s for the best. But I should have been the one to end things with him. The fucking nerve of this guy.”
I want to laugh, but am smart enough to hold it in, at her only being upset about the breakup because she wasn’t in control of it.
