by Monroe, Lila
I smile. “But what about if you’re trying to match people—or things up. You know, with a profile?”
“It’s pretty much the same thing—doesn’t matter if there are two variables, or two dozen.” He replies. “The really hard part is finding something people want or need. A lot of apps fail because they’re stupid or don’t fulfill a real need. People download them and then the interest fades and then they tank.”
“A real need . . .” My mental gears start to whirl.
“Do you have an idea for one?” Zach asks.
I’m about to say no, that I was just curious. But then I figure what the hell. Zach’s a great guy and won’t judge—just look what he’s done with Gemma’s donation work. He made an app for that.
“Maybe,” I say. “What if there was a matchup app – but for pets, instead of people? Like if you were looking to adopt a dog? You could put in if you wanted an older dog, or a puppy, or even different breeds, and then it would show you pictures of all the shelter pups in the system nearby? Plus, unlike real-life dating, because dogs will never let you down or love you less than you love them,” I add with a sigh.
Zach looks confused.
“Sorry,” I say. “Just venting. But do you think it could work—the animal matchmaking?”
Zach looks thoughtful. “So who would make the pet profiles? People at the shelters?”
I nod. “They could put in things like their energy level, if they like kids, special talents, that sort of thing.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Zach grins.
I shake my head. “No, I was just thinking out loud, that’s all.”
“Why not?” Zach shrugs. “Plenty of app developers start with nothing but a good idea and a little coding knowledge.”
“Well, I have zero coding knowledge,” I sigh.
“Then it’s a good thing I do,” Zach replies. “I’d be happy to help you out, if you want to put together a prototype.”
“Seriously?” I blink. “Wait, no, I can’t do this. I’m not anywhere near qualified to try something like this.”
“Says who?” Zach shrugs. “You have a ton of experience working with animals, plus a great idea. That’s all it takes. Plus, a ton of hard work.”
My phone sounds and I grab for it, holding my breath, hoping it’s Noah. But no. It’s from Viv: a selfie of her and Colin holding the dogs. I can see the replacement chicken behind them, bathed in its special spotlight.
At first, I panic. They know about the chicken! But then I read the text: Thank you again for taking such good care of us! Xoxo Leia and Hans.
I exhale in relief. They don’t know—the location of the photo is just a coincidence.
Then I wonder if she sent the same picture to Noah. If she did, would he think the same and panic that we were busted?
My heart begins to really ache as I think of everything that went down in the past couple of weeks—and how it went to crap in just one day. I don’t want to think about him right now. He’s probably making plans to move to New York anyway. Without any thought of me.
It’s time for me to move on—the way he so clearly has moved on from me.
“You know what?” I decide, turning to Zach. “I want to give it a try. How do we make this adoption app happen?”
24
Noah
The cure for a breakup is pretty standard among me and my friends: booze (a lot of it), some mindless partying, and a rebound fling. It’s always worked for us before, but tonight, I’m not feeling it.
I couldn’t be feeling it any less if I tried.
“Dude, come on,” Eddie beckons, doing some bad dance moves on the edge of the floor.
“Not a chance, Eddie,” I sigh.
Eddie scowls. “If I go out there by myself, all the girls will think I’m a creeper!”
“They already think you’re a creeper,” I point out.
“Come on, Noah! Quit being such a mopey asshole.”
He’s not wrong about the mopey asshole part. But I’m still not dancing. “Get him to dance with you.” I point at Will. “He’s got the moves.”
Will snorts. “You’re kidding, right? I am not dancing to this shitty music. It’s bad enough that you dragged me to this awful place. If I’m seen here, I’m done. My career as a gay man with good taste will be over.”
I laugh. “Your rep could survive one misguided night out with your friends at a—gasp!—straight bar!”
“You’re the worst wingman,” Eddie mutters.
Whatever. I would rather be anywhere else right now than in this nightclub—banging music, the crush of hot, sweaty bodies, and expensive, watered down drinks.
Although, wallowing on my couch, eating cold pizza, and wondering how it all went so wrong wasn’t exactly working for me, either. So, I let Eddie and Will convince me to come out. I’m starting to think it was a mistake.
I still haven’t figured out what to do about the New York job. But how can I, when all I can think about is Eve?
“You should call her,” Will says.
I look up at him. “What?”
He rolls his eyes. “Like I can’t tell you’re moping about her? If she means that much, call her. Work it out.”
“No!” Eddie yells over the music. “Screw her. Take the job. She’s not worth it anyway. Women will just pretend to care and say they love you. Tell you you’re great and they’ll always be by you. You move in, and give them your Netflix password, and then the next thing you know, they’ll toss you out on your ass with some bullshit about ‘taking them for granted.’ What does that even mean? Anyway, relationships are for pussies. You should just hook up from now on. Be like me.”
I try not to smile. Is he projecting much?
Will shakes his head. “Do not take relationship advice from that asshole. Please, promise me.”
I take a gulp of warm beer. “No promise necessary.”
“You can say all you want,” Eddie says, pointing at each of us. “You’ll find out I’m right. I’m never getting involved again. Being single is way better.”
As I think of my recent hours of being single, I can’t agree. Not that Eddie is being honest—least of all with himself. I decide to test my theory.
“Right,” I say. “So, you don’t care that Mindy’s seeing someone?”
“WHAT?” Eddie barks. He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling.
“Real healthy,” Will snorts.
“I was joking,” I tell Eddie. “Put your phone away. I have no idea if she’s seeing someone, but you need to get your shit together, man.”
“Fuck you,” Eddie says as he slides off the stool. “I’m going to get another drink.”
“Good plan,” I say sarcastically. But then I think about my own crappy love life. Eddie is a cautionary tale, but that could be me someday.
I suddenly see the merits in more alcohol.
“Get us all a round,” I call out.
* * *
Five shots later, we pour into a cab. I figured we were going home, but Eddie reroutes the driver to Mindy’s place. We try to talk him out of it, but he’s determined.
“Seriously?” I sigh. “This has disaster written all over it.”
For Mindy’s sake, we get out of the car with Eddie when we arrive at her place. “I can’t tell if this will be entertaining or a train wreck,” Will says as we stand on the sidewalk, watching Eddie approach the townhouse where Mindy lives on the second floor.
“Entertaining train wreck,” I say. At least, I hope it will be.
Will opens his mouth but Eddie starts the show, grabbing our attention.
“MINDY!” he yells up at a dark window. “Baby, please. I miss you so fucking much! I’m sorry for everything! Baby, you have to forgive me!”
Will and I exchange surprised looks. “So that’s not at all what I was expecting,” I snort.
Will looks amused. “No shit. What happened to staying single forever? Oh, and how relationships are for pussies?”
“If we ever doubted for a second he was full of shit, there’s the evidence right there.”
A light goes on in the window, encouraging Eddie to continue begging forgiveness and assuring Mindy that he loves her and will never, ever take her for granted again. “Ever. Please baby, please!”
“Pathetic.” Will smirks. “She won’t go for it, will she?”
I shrug. “No idea. Would you?”
“Maybe?” Will twists up his lips. “He’s cute in a desperate sort of way. And I guess he’s not a bad guy. All the time. Mindy confided in me once that he’s a god in bed. He basically has a double-jointed tongue, so . . .”
I cringe. “TMI, man.”
“Tell me about it.” Will rolls his eyes. “You have no idea what it’s like having straight girls feel like they can tell you everything.”
“Eddie!” Mindy emerges onto the sidewalk, wearing a bright pink bathrobe. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, falling to his knees. “Please, forgive me.”
“You’re making a scene!” she complains, but I can see she’s actually happy about it.
“I don’t care!” Eddie cries. “I love you!”
“Awww, baby! I love you too!”
To everyone’s surprise—including Eddie—she throws herself into his arms. He disappears inside the house without even a glance over his shoulder at us. I’d be insulted if I wasn’t actually happy for him. And relieved for us that the drama is over.
“Well, that worked out,” Will laughs. “Should we get another car?”
I shake my head. “I could use some air. Let’s walk.”
He nods and we start down the street.
Maybe it’s the booze, or the scene we just watched, but I’m feeling even more conflicted and melancholy about Eve and how that whole thing went down. One minute I was telling her about the New York offer, and the next, we were breaking up. It happened so fast, I’m still trying to figure it out.
And to deal with the crushing weight that’s settled in my gut.
“I miss her,” I say. Out loud.
“So, work your shit out,” Will says and then laughs. “Let Eddie be your guide.”
“But the job,” I sigh. “It’s a fucking major opportunity, Will.”
“Look,” he says. “I get that. It came out of nowhere, throwing a monkey wrench into your plans. But step back for a sec. Why did you leave your last job?”
I shove my hand through my hair. “To go out on my own.”
“Beeeeecauuuuuuse,” he drawls.
I sigh because even buzzed, I can clearly see what he’s doing. “I was tired of working for someone else.”
“Exactly. And you know, if you’d been at it on your own for months and you missed working at a firm, or weren’t cut out for doing it by yourself, that’s cool. You can always go back to it. But there are plenty of firms around here. Do you really want to move to New York? Is that what this is about?”
I exhale. “No,” I admit. “I mean, I like New York, but the thought of moving there . . . ? It’s not my first choice, that’s for sure.”
It’s the first time I’ve admitted it, even to myself. But as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s true.
“Well then?” Will prompts me. “Why turn this into such a big deal with Eve if you didn’t think you were going to take the job?”
The million-dollar question.
I shift, uncomfortable. “I don’t know, it felt like she was . . . pushing me into something.”
“So is that what the fight is really about?” Will says, stopping on the sidewalk. “It’s not about the job. It’s about this,” he pokes me in the chest.
I look down. “My shirt?”
“You’re a fucking moron,” he says with an eye roll. “I know you have a heart in there somewhere, even if you don’t. Maybe you should listen to it once in a while.”
* * *
Will leaves me to go do something far more fashionable, and I walk the rest of the way home, thinking.
The job with Perfect Match would be amazing—I got the official offer and it was even more money than I thought it would be. Factoring in the benefits, it’s a dream job. No, it’s beyond my wildest dreams. I’d be an idiot not to consider it seriously.
But when I get into my studio, I notice my whiteboard. It’s got my goals on it—everything I want to do with my business. Short-, medium-, and long-term goals, dream clients, my plans for scaling up.
But it suddenly feels like empty bullshit. It’s supposed to be a game plan for my life, but there’s nothing but work there. There’s no room in that plan for anything other than that. Where does “living” fit into my big plans?
It doesn’t. Because I’ve never had reason to think about more than my career. Girls came and went. Fun for a short while, before we all moved on—no hard feelings.
Until Eve.
She’s the one making me reconsider everything. With the way she cares, her unapologetic assurances that love is real. That sunny optimism, so certain that she’ll find The One.
That I might have been him.
Fuck.
Maybe I started to believe her. Maybe I started to want to. Who wouldn’t? She’s gorgeous and funny and smart, and is steadfast in what she cares about. Who she cares about.
She said she was falling for me. Imagine, a woman like that deciding I was the one for her. It makes me terrified—and exhilarated, all at once. To have a chance at something real with her, take that risk and put my heart on the line for the very first time.
So, what the hell am I so afraid of?
25
Eve
Two weeks after doomsday (aka breakup central) I’m still couch-surfing at Gemma’s. She stays across the hall at Zach’s most nights, anyway, so it’s not like I’m imposing—so she tells me. But I still feel slightly weird about it, so I’m still helping out as much as I can. I cook, do laundry, clean—whatever it takes to be the best houseguest ever.
Like right now, I’m cooking her and Zach omelets.
Truth is, I’m done with sorority central. I’ve given my notice and moved my stuff out, at Gemma’s insistence, but I need to figure my life out before I commit to a place. I can’t keep bouncing around like this, from one gig to another.
Time to start adulting, Eve.
Although, maybe the career part of growing up is happening. In a way I never could have imagined. Zach and I have been diligently working on the app, and thanks to his genius coding, we’re already at the beta testing phase. He’s even managed to find some shelters willing to help us out. Word is getting around and even more are set to sign up once we officially launch. I’ve been run off my feet liaising with the shelters and testing the different designs and profiles. The whole experience is both exciting and terrifying at the same time. But it feels so right—like it’s exactly what I should be doing. I stumbled on this idea at the exact perfect time and just so happened to have a friend who could help me make it happen.
Achievement: unlocked.
Except . . . Every time I think about how cool it is, I want to share it with Noah. He’d love the project and I know he’d be excited and proud of me, too.
But I can’t. I haven’t heard from him at all since our breakup, and I refuse to be that girl who stalks her ex and/or tries to get him back when he’s over her. I’m not desperate, even though I may feel it sometimes.
Gemma comes into the kitchen for a coffee refill. “You seriously don’t have to cook us breakfast,” she says. “I’m starting to feel guilty with everything you do around here.”
I shrug. “It’s good to keep busy when I’m not working with Zach on the project.”
“Any word?” Gemma asks softly. She doesn’t have to mention Noah’s name, but I know he’s what she’s asking about.
“Nope,” I say, focusing on adding cheese and mushrooms to the pan. “His social media still says San Francisco, but maybe he just hasn’t changed it yet.”
“If he went,” she says.
I look up at her. “Do you know something?”
“No,” she assures me with a shake of her head. “Just . . . I don’t know. He didn’t say he was taking it for sure.”
“It was too good a job not to go,” I say. And it’s not like he was prepared to stay for me, I don’t say.
But it’s like Gemma hears it anyway, and she gives me a side-hug. “You need to get back on the horse-slash-hunk, girlfriend.”
“I’m busy with the project,” I protest.
“You have time to date,” she insists. “And you have a perfectly good possibility just waiting for your call.”
“Who?” I ask, confused.
“That Hemsworth-looking hunk!”
I groan. “Gemma . . .”
“Eve . . .” she mimics. “Didn’t you say he gave you his number and begged you for a date?”
“Not exactly.”
“But still. You’ve been wallowing long enough. Maybe if you get back out there, you’ll see there are other guys. Other guys who can make you happy,” she adds, before heading out.
I ponder her instructions all morning. Sure, there are other men, but I can’t imagine someone making me laugh the way Noah does.
Did, I remind myself. Past tense. Like our relationship.
Which means there’s nothing stopping from me starting anything new.
Or at least a drink.
I pull out my phone before I can talk myself out of it.
Hey! I text Hemsworth. Remember me?
He hits me back almost right away. Of course!
Want to get together? I hold my breath waiting for his answer.
Sure! Lunch? I’m free now.
And just like that, I have a date.
Just not with the man I’m pining for.
* * *
I meet Hemsworth (whose name is actually Garrett) at the park—he’s heard about a great food truck and is eager to try it.
