Date Me Like You Mean It

by Grey, R. S.

  I cringe and look away. “I forgot to set my alarm and I overslept.”

  Her shoulders sag once she realizes I’m fine.

  I’m not. My shin is still throbbing and my breath is horrid, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “Right, of course. I should chide you, but I find that putting that sort of negative energy out into the world isn’t good for my gut bacteria.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” I say with an energetic nod of my head as if I’ve ever thought about my gut bacteria a single day of my life.

  After she’s convinced I’m fine, she leaves me alone so I can get to work. I have menial tasks to attend to: some sick days I need to tally and a few office supplies to order. I know to some, work like this would be boring, but I actually like the routine. I like having a checklist of all the things I need to do in a day, and I love the feeling of accomplishment as I tally them off.

  Around lunchtime, my cell phone rings.

  It’s Stephanie, one of my best friends from childhood who I haven’t seen in a few years. We went to different colleges and now she’s back in Dallas. It’s been hard to stay in touch, though we try to call each other a few times a month.

  “Maddie! I’m so glad I got you. I was worried you wouldn’t pick up since you’re at work.”

  Stephanie doesn’t work. Well…she kind of does. Her mom owns an interior design firm and Stephanie helps out when she feels like it. Ah, the life.

  “No, you actually called at a perfect time. I’m about to take my lunch break. What’s up?”

  “Well, as you know, I’ve been talking things over with Elliot and trying to come up with the perfect joint bachelor-bachelorette party.”

  “Oh? Any leads?”

  “I think we’ve settled on this little compound in West Texas. It’s a total desert oasis with a series of private bungalows so everyone will have their own space. We’ll have a caterer and masseuses, of course, so don’t think it’s that primitive.”

  Knowing Stephanie and Elliot, I knew that wouldn’t be the case. Elliot’s dad is part owner of the Dallas Mavericks. In all likelihood, this desert oasis is a freaking palace.

  “So you’ll come, right?!”

  “Of course!”

  I’ve had the week marked out on my work calendar for months, ever since Stephanie first invited me.

  “And since it’s a couples thing, make sure to bring someone. That won’t be a problem, will it? Are you dating right now? I know you’ve had such bad luck lately, and I can set you up with someone if you need me to. One of Elliot’s friends, maybe?”

  “No! No, you don’t have to do that,” I rush out, feeling my cheeks redden.

  “Oh, so then you are seeing someone?”

  “Uh…”

  I can hear my pulse in my ears. Time seems to slow. If I tell her I’m not seeing anyone, she’ll force me into spending the whole week with one of Elliot’s friends. No thank you! But if I lie and tell her I do have a boyfriend, well…what the hell am I supposed to do then? Hire an escort for the week?

  Aiden pops into my head.

  Yes.

  AIDEN.

  This is perfect! He doesn’t even have to come. I’ll just use him to get out of having to be thrust upon one of Elliot’s friends. Surely, he won’t mind. He laughed off the encounter with Elise, right? What’s one more lie?

  “Maddie?”

  Stephanie’s worried the call dropped.

  I clear my throat. “I actually am seeing someone.”

  “Who?! Tell me everything!”

  “It’s Aiden.”

  “Aiden Aiden?! Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. Crazy, right? We finally started dating.”

  Stephanie knows I’ve had a crush on him forever.

  “Good for you girl!”

  Even though it’s a total lie, I can’t help but feel a little inflated by this false reality. That’s right, I’m dating Aiden—in my head.

  “So then he’ll come?”

  NO.

  “Oh, that sounds so awesome, but…”

  Her voice sounds desperate when she asks, “But what?”

  Yes, BUT WHAT, MADDIE?! Is he your boyfriend or not!?

  “There’s no way he’ll be able to get time off from work with such short notice.”

  “Really? What’s his number? I’ll have Elliot call him later and fill him in on the details just in case.”

  “NO! Err…you don’t have to do that. I can tell him myself. Just email me the plans and I’ll see if he’ll be able to join.”

  “Okay. I really think you should try to convince him to take the time off because it’s going to be all couples. I don’t want you to feel left out.”

  In other words, miserable.

  I could just bow out myself, but Stephanie’s my oldest friend. We have photos together dating back from kindergarten. I can’t skip out on this special occasion just because I’m too scared to invite Aiden.

  “Let me work on him and I’ll be in touch.”

  “Awesome. We officially leave in two weeks, so I’ll need to have a final headcount by Friday.”

  I hang up and stare at my phone, wondering what to do. I have to go, and since I’m going, it would be so much less miserable if Aiden were there alongside me. We could survive the insanity together, lean on each other.

  There’s just the little awkward detail to contend with wherein I lied about us being a couple, but that’s no big deal! He won’t care!

  Right?

  Thanks to Stephanie’s deadline, I have until Friday to get Aiden on board with the entire plan.

  That’s doable.

  It’s only Monday.

  That evening, after work, I reheat the pasta from last night just in time for Aiden to walk in the door.

  He drops his keys and wallet on the island along with the leather bag he carries to work, and I scurry to meet him.

  “Aiden! You’re home! How was work?” I ask with a congenial smile.

  “Good. I spent the whole morning reworking a story about the protests so we could get it up on the website before lunch.”

  “Wow. I bet it’s amazing. I’ll read it later. Send me a link?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why are you being so weird?”

  I stop massaging his shoulders. I knew that was too much.

  “Here, come take a seat. Are you hungry? I cut up some cheese from the farmer’s market.”

  “Oookay…uh, thanks.”

  I flash him a megawatt smile and ask him to tell me every single detail about his article from start to finish. He loves talking about journalism, and while I usually cut him off at about fifteen minutes, tonight I’m going to let him ramble until he’s good and done.

  After dinner, I pop some popcorn with extra butter and tell Aiden to pick what we watch on TV. Usually we flip back and forth. By my count, it’s my turn to choose the show, and apparently Aiden’s been keeping track too because he points this out.

  “No, no. You pick. You’re always so good at picking shows!”

  “Are you on drugs? Did Blythe trick you into eating an edible again?”

  I laugh entirely too long and too loud. “What?! Noooo. I’m just happy to be spending time with you.”

  His dark brows furrow as he takes me in. His green eyes assess me, and my smile feels strained, as if I know I’m seconds away from being found out. Then, because he’s a guy and, at heart, guys are pretty simple creatures, he accepts the remote and forces me into watching an episode of Alone on the History Channel. What is it with guys and wilderness shows? Is it that cool to survive in Alaska all by yourself? Fishing and living in a little teepee and whittling dumb things out of wood?

  “His gill net is so awesome,” Aiden says, commenting on a contestant’s fishing strategy.

  “Oh my god, yes! Amazing!”

  I’m mentally exhausted by the time I lie down in my bed. Being overly enthusiastic is hard work. How do happy people do it? Xanax?

  The next day, I step up my
game. On the way home from work, I stop and grab a case of Aiden’s favorite beer from the very back of the cooler in the store so it’s ice cold. I’ll tell him it was on sale so it doesn’t seem like such a bribe. While I’m out, I also pick up our favorite Thai food, and I ensure they make the coconut curry extra spicy, just how Aiden prefers it.

  He beats me home and is already on the couch in lounge pants and a Columbia t-shirt, typing on his laptop when I walk in.

  “I brought home Thai!” I announce, holding up the brown paper bag.

  Aiden laughs and points to the kitchen island. “So did I.”

  Sure enough, there’s a perfect clone of the paper bag in my hand sitting up on the counter. Dammit. How dare he generously bring me home dinner? How am I supposed to stand out as kind and thoughtful now? Then I remember the beer.

  “You won’t believe it!” I hold up the six-pack. “Blue Moon was half off at the corner store so I stopped and grabbed you some.”

  “Really? Thanks.”

  He’s typing again, distracted. That won’t do. I pop the top off one of the beers and slide it into a koozie.

  “Here you go,” I say, walking over to hand it off to him. “Still ice cold.”

  He takes it without looking at me. I glance at his screen, but I can’t tell what’s keeping his attention.

  “Work stuff?”

  “Yeah, I just have to fire off this email then I’m done and we can eat. You want to get started without me?”

  I grin. “Now what kind of friend would I be if I ate before you? Take your time! I’ll wait!”

  My tone says I’ve never been less inconvenienced in my entire life, but the truth is, I’m starving. Elise voluntarily got me lunch again today: tofu burgers, no fries. Instead, it was paired with unsalted edamame. I’m going to be a waif by the time she’s through with me.

  “Okayyy and…sent,” Aiden says before shutting his laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  I wave my hand for him to walk past me. “You first.”

  He smirks and holds his hand out for me to go ahead. “After you.”

  I tsk. “No no no, I insist.”

  Then he shakes his head, takes a sip of his beer, and walks past me. “I swear you’re on something this week. What is it with you?”

  “Can’t I just be nice to you without you thinking I’m on drugs?”

  “No.”

  I roll my eyes when his back is turned then make sure to have a peachy keen smile on my face by the time he glances back at me.

  “The last time I tried to cut you in line to get food, you nearly stabbed my hand with a fork,” he points out, handing me a plate before getting one for himself.

  Damn. Am I that impatient?

  “Wow, I can’t believe I have such bad manners. I’m going to work on that. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

  My voice holds no hint of sarcasm, only appreciative praise for his very good constructive feedback.

  He starts to take food out of the bags so we can dish it out and heat up what’s gone cold.

  “What should we watch tonight?” he asks after testing the green curry.

  “I was thinking another episode of Alone. I just really want to see if that one guy worked out how to snare properly.”

  Internally, I’m clawing my eyes out at the prospect of watching another episode of the survival show, but hopefully Aiden can’t tell.

  “Up until recently, you made fun of that show. Now suddenly you’re addicted?”

  “What can I say? The History Channel knows how to put out quality programming.”

  I’m surprised I don’t swallow my tongue in the process of getting those words out.

  He puts his plate down then and walks over until he’s right in front of me, no escaping. I back up to the island, and he follows.

  “Okay, tell me what you want.”

  “Want?”

  “You’ve either had a lobotomy or you want something from me. Which is it?”

  “I’m just being nice.”

  His green eyes capture mine. “You’re nice, but not this nice. I couldn’t stand you if you were this nice. It’s like being roommates with a robot I created for my own pleasure.”

  Crap. I overdid it. I thought I was toeing the line, but apparently, I majorly overstepped it.

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” I say, using my real voice for the first time since I’ve been home. No more high-pitched politeness. “I have a favor to ask, and it’s kind of a big one.”

  His gaze doesn’t waver, but he crosses his arms as if preparing himself for what’s to come.

  “It would mean a lot to me, which is why you can’t say no,” I continue.

  “Tell me what it is.”

  “First you have to agree to do it.”

  He grunts and moves around me to start filling his plate.

  “My friend Stephanie wants me to go on a joint bachelor-bachelorette getaway,” I blurt out.

  “Okay, I’ll hold down the fort. Is that all?”

  “She wants you to come too.”

  He laughs. “No can do. Work’s crazy right now, and besides, why would she want me there? I barely know her, and I’ve never met her fiancé. What’s his name again?”

  “Elliot.”

  “Right.”

  “They invited you because…well…it’s a couples’ weekend.”

  “So?”

  He’s not catching on.

  “So…you and me”—I wring out my hands—“there are two of us. Two people make a couple.”

  He stops spooning rice onto his plate and glances over his shoulder at me.

  “Maddie.”

  “What?! We already lied to Elise about being a couple and that turned out okay! It’s just for a few days! Think of how much fun it’ll be to take a vacation!”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “I haven’t seen Stephanie in forever!” I add.

  “So then you go.”

  I want to drop the issue, but I can’t. Stephanie asked about Aiden again today, wanting to confirm that I’d passed along the invitation. She really wants us both there.

  “What can I do to convince you?”

  “I’m not going. You need to tell Stephanie the truth.”

  I clasp my hands together, pleading with him. “Aiden.”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  Chapter Seven

  Maddie

  “It should only be a few more miles,” I say, trying to sound chipper about it.

  Aiden is driving. I’m doing the helpful task of fiddling with the radio dial in an attempt to keep my hands occupied. We’ve listened to every song on our road trip playlist—three times. Out here, in no man’s land, our radio antenna can’t pick up much of a signal, but it’s worth trying.

  Songs jump in and out as I twist the knob. Static blares from the speakers, interrupted by sharp bursts of rap songs that fade out into pop choruses, followed by more static. Aiden puts his hand over mine to let me know he would really love if I stopped.

  We pass another cluster of cacti, another bunch of yellow flowers, another curve in the road, and I can’t bear to look at him. When Stephanie told me we were going to a compound in West Texas, I figured we could make it there in no time. After all, isn’t Austin sort of in the middle of the state? Apparently, even having lived in Texas my whole life, I didn’t quite realize just how big this place is. We’ve been driving for six hours. We were supposed to be there by now.

  I see a road sign that proclaims Marfa to be 50 miles ahead.

  “If you hit Marfa, you’ve gone too far!” Stephanie told me yesterday during a brief phone call.

  Our GPS is on the fritz. Out here, just like with the radio, my phone gets a terrible signal. Stephanie warned me about that, but I didn’t think it’d be an issue because she gave me backup directions.

  I worry we’ll never find the house. We’re going to get lost and wander the desert aimlessly until
we collapse from dehydration and exhaustion. Vultures will circle overhead, squawking with glee. They’ll eat our faces first, I think. I’ve heard they like faces.

  Just then, a vulture swoops across the skyline, and panic grips my spine.

  Oh-kay. Time for a distraction.

  “Let’s play a game to pass the time. How about I Spy? I’ll go first.” I start before Aiden can protest. “I spy with my little eye…” I scan the skyline, looking for an item of interest. Anything. “Something brown.”

  “The dirt,” he says, tapping his window. “Or the dirt over there. No wait, the dirt that way.”

  Okay, he has a point.

  “It was that hill back there. Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

  “No, I have no idea where we’re going. Stephanie’s directions were horrible.”

  I glance back down at the email I printed out yesterday. There’re phrases like Follow the horizon line, Look for the crater, and Let the wind guide you. I guess I should have paid more attention to it instead of just assuming we’d be fine.

  “She said we’d know it when we saw it,” I pipe up, trying to be helpful.

  This is turning out horribly.

  I really wanted this week to be smooth sailing, especially because I somehow convinced Aiden to tag along.

  In the end, it wasn’t an easy task getting him here. At first, he wasn’t budging. The morning after I told him the truth about all my nice gestures, I woke up early and whipped up some pancakes and bacon. With tiny chocolate chips, I spelled out PLEASE on the top of his short stack. Later that afternoon, I sent a huge fruit bouquet to his work. Still, he wasn’t caving.

  That night I offered him a foot rub. He declined. I tried to think of something even more inventive. What is it guys really want? Oh, duh. My eyes scanned to his groin. Right. Well, there’s always that.

  “Aiden,” I said, turning to face him. “I could…”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, curious to know where I was headed.

  I pointed suggestively at his pants. “You know.”

  He shot off the couch, his hands tugging through his hair.