Page 1 of Four-ever Single

One

Jones

“Should we call the fire department?”

I sighed heavily, letting my shoulders fall as I stared at the fire in the oven. I shook my head.

“Nope. I am the fire department.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her lips together to keep from saying anything else. I reached into the cabinet and pulled out the fire extinguisher as she moved out of the way.

“Since you seem to have this covered, I guess I’ll just...”

I didn’t bother to turn around to say goodbye, given the door slammed closed before I could. I shook my head, disappointed in myself, as I put the fire out and opened the doors to let the brisk evening breeze in. It was still a little chilly for the beginning of May, but it matched my mood as I thought about how depressing it was that this date hadn’t even made it to dinner before it ended. Sure, it was my fault for not taking the cardboard out from beneath the frozen pizza before cooking it, but still.

It was seven o’clock on a Friday night, and I had the next two days off before I started another 48 hours on. I knew most of the guys at the firehouse would have plans tonight since most were married or dating someone, so I didn’t want to bother them. But I also couldn’t stay in the house and be left alone with my thoughts. I grabbed my keys, locked the door, and headed out.

The Tipsy Taquito was always busy, but it seemed everyone in Beaumont Creek was here tonight. I placed my order and then grabbed a spot at one of the high-top tables in the back. I didn’t love eating alone, but it was better to sit and people-watch than to sit at home and obsess over my failed dating life. Four-ever Single was what they would someday write on my tombstone when I succumbed to a burnt food-related death.

Music played loudly over the speakers as the college kids danced and threw back shots. A couple snuggled together in the corner booth beside me, making out like teenagers and reminding me that I was never going to be one of those people. Unlucky in life and even more so in love. That had always been me, and no matter how hard I tried, it would stay that way.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Capshaw said, pulling out the chair beside me and taking a seat.

“Just grabbing some dinner.” I shrugged nonchalantly, hoping my personal life was so boring that he wouldn’t remember the date I had tonight.

“What happened? Why aren’t you on your date?”

“I burned dinner,” I answered quietly, looking away. “I should have taken your advice and gone to Surf ’N Shack instead.”

“What did you make?” He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest.

“Frozen pizza.”

He closed his eyes and let his head drop forward.

“I know, I know. Leave it to me to forget to take the cardboard out again,” I said with a heavy sigh, already knowing where his thoughts were going. We’d been friends long enough for him to know how terrible of a cook I was. Not only that, but we were also in the same platoon, so he’d been there since I started as a rookie and earned my reputation in the firehouse.

“Did she...”

“Leave right away? Yeah. Before I could get the fire out, she was gone.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, man.” He sighed heavily and gave me a soft smile.

“It’s alright. It’s not like the first few dates had gone all that well, to begin with. I’m honestly surprised she agreed to another.”

We sat there quietly watching the people around us for a few minutes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you and Kensy had plans?”

“We did, but they changed when Lia insisted the girls come out for a girl’s night. Apparently, some guy she had been dating dumped her, and now they were all going to help her drown her sorrows tonight. I was planning to drop Kensy off and come back for the three of them later, but then I spotted you and decided to stay.”

“So, you took pity and came to sit with the loser in the corner?”

“You’re not a loser, Jones. Don’t you let me catch you thinking that way about yourself again. So, you had a shitty date. We’ve all been there. Shake it off and move on to the next.”

A waitress dropped off my food before heading to another table, noting Capshaw’s number still sitting on the table.

“You say that like there’s a long line of prospects waiting for me.”

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