Page 16 of Just Friends

“That’s surprising,” Lucy says, writing it down. “So someone who can bring him out of his shell.”

“Yeah,” I answer, smiling. “And he’s messy, so he doesn’t like people who are always put together.”

I watch as Lucy writesmessyon the paper.

“And he loves creative people, because he’s not creative at all. He says he got all of his parents’ business genes, and he doesn’t want his kids to fail elementary art class like he did.”

Lucy gives me a curious look before writing it down. “So someone who is funny, outgoing, messy, and creative?”

I nod as she reads each one off. “Yeah, that’s perfect. That’s pretty broad, too, so we have options.”

“Mm,” Lucy hums.

“What? You think it’s too broad?”

She shakes her head, looking at the list and then back to me. “No, just thinking of who we can set him up with. You have any ideas?”

My mind is completely blank. It was easy to come up with what he wants and needs, but actually producing a physical woman who checks those boxes seems harder than I imagined.

“What about Chloe?” Lucy asks, referring to one of the shop’s regulars. She’s got long, long strawberry blond hair and crystal-clear blue eyes, with deep laugh crinkles beside them. And she’s an elementary teacher, so I know she ticks the other requirements, but I find myself shaking my head.

“No, she doesn’t seem right for him.”

Lucy consults the list and says, “Oh-kay,” splitting it up like it’s two words. “Rayne?”

Rayne is a girl Lucy and I met that one month we tried a cycling class. She was at every single class and was obviously a regular with her muscular thighs and ability to finish the class without looking like she was going to throw up. She’s a second-generation Cambodian American with long black hair and eyes that glitter like brown stained glass. And she’s a tattoo artist. She did the beautiful, intricate fine-line butterfly tattoo on my forearm last year.

“No, I don’t think so.” When I look at Lucy, she’s smiling. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just, you have to set him up withsomeone.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I know that, but I can’t just set him up withanyone.”

“Both of those women fit the description you gave me.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “I just don’t think they’d be good together.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

I stare at Lucy, feeling a twinge of irritation. She’s obviously decently acquainted with Alex. He’s come to the shop on more than one occasion, and we’ve all even gone out together a few times. But she doesn’t know him like I do.

“Unless there’s some reason you don’t want him going out with one of them.”

“I just don’t think he’d hit it off with either of them,” I say, unsure of why my heart feels like it’s beating harder in my chest. “But fine, I’ll ask Chloe.”

“Don’t ask if you don’t think they’d be good together,” Lucy says, that frustrating smile on her face again.

“No, no, they’d be great,” I say through clenched teeth. “I hope they have beautiful strawberry blond babies with brown eyes and dimples.”

Her grin widens. “You don’t seem happy about that.”

I’m not, although I can’t pinpoint why. I guess I just can’t picture him with someone like Chloe. I don’t know who he needs, but it isn’t her.

“I’m fine,” I say, standing up and gathering my things. “I’ve got to go. I think I left my curling iron on.”

“Don’t forget to text Chloe,” Lucy calls after me as I head through the door, her voice as sugary sweet as Pixie Stix.

WhenIletmyselfinto Hazel’s apartment later that night, she’s covered in paint. She’s messy when she’s creating. I’ve always enjoyed that about her, because when she’s finished, she looks as much like art as the piece she’s working on.

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