The Perfect Match

by Melody Summers

  “Yeah, stupid,” one of the others chimed in. “This wasn’t what I ordered, either.”

  As if on cue, the rest of them knocked their plates onto the floor as well. Hearing the commotion, the manager started back towards them, but it was too late. Two of the boys upended their table and sent drinks and condiments flying.

  We ducked low in our booth as the manager confronted them and the altercation turned into a screaming match. The biggest guy in the group grabbed a chair and slung it into an empty table which tipped over with a loud crash. Others followed suit, flinging anything they could get their hands on into the air in random directions.

  “Get down!”

  Dylan yanked me down just as a ketchup bottle sailed towards my head. The plastic shattered against the window behind us, showering us with sticky tomato paste. I peeked out and saw one of the other waitresses talking excitedly into a phone—to the police, I hoped. We stayed hunkered down with Dylan hovering protectively over me in case of more flying objects, but the group apparently realized they’d gone too far and made a break for the door. They continued screaming invectives at the manager and their waitress, who had taken refuge behind the cash register.

  They’d waited too long to make their exit, though. As they reached the door, flashing red and blue lights flooded the windows and four police, grim in their navy blue uniforms, blocked their escape. Emboldened by booze, the jerks remained belligerent even in the face of real authority and continued yelling at the staff.

  “Okay, enough,” a husky policeman barked. “Cuff them. I’m charging you with assault, public intoxication, and anything else I can think of.”

  He looked the place over, taking in the mess, and shook his head. When his eyes lit on me and Dylan still hiding in our booth he started our way. Both of us slowly sat up, and I realized we were covered with blobs of ketchup.

  “We’re not with them!” I blurted out.

  “I can see that. Are you all right?”

  “Fine, other than the ketchup bath,” Dylan told him.

  “Did you see what happened?”

  “Yes,” we both said together.

  We went through it for him, and he set a notepad and pen on the table before us when we finished.

  “I don’t know if they’re going to press charges, but write down your names and contact information so I can reach you if we need you to come in and make a statement.” When we’d done that he nodded at us. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  We looked at each other, with droplets of ketchup clinging to our hair and clothes like we’d been in a bloodbath or something, and burst out laughing. Dylan waved to one of the waitresses.

  “Can we get the checks?”

  “Sure, hon.” Her eyes twinkled at our ketchup-spattered state and she struggled not to smile. “Sorry about that. It happens in here sometimes.”

  “It’s just the icing on the cake for the night we’ve had,” Dylan said.

  He walked me out to my car, which was sweet of him. After everything that had happened to him that night with me around, I’d figured he’d want to get far away from me as quickly as possible.

  “Thanks for the cinnamon roll.”

  “Sure. At least you had one bright spot in your evening.”

  He laughed. “Not the only one. You look awfully cute with ketchup in your hair.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Whatever.”

  “Nite, Allison. Drive safe.”

  He waited until I started my car up before he headed towards his own, and I sighed as I watched him go. He really was a good guy. He deserved better, deserved a girl who would treat him the way I’d seen him treating Dani. There was bound to be someone out there for him who was better than Elora.

  Chapter Two

  For some reason the next day I was still thinking about Dylan’s problems with his love life—and wondering if the police were going to call. Mom and Dad hadn’t been remotely happy when I came home covered in ketchup and smelling like beer, but I managed to convince them that none of it had been my fault so that turned out okay. The Seth thing had me majorly bummed out, though.

  What was I going to do now? I kept coming up with the same answer—nothing, exactly the same thing that I’d been doing all along. Why hadn’t I listened to Delaney and Dannika? Maybe if I had Seth would have been with me at that party. Except considering how thin and beautiful that blonde was he probably would have shot me down and broken my heart anyway. Either way, now I’d never know. In six months he’d be graduating and off to college, and I’d missed whatever chance I’d had.

  I wanted to cry on a friend’s shoulder, but since Dani was out of town for the holidays and Laney and Molly were always busy with their boyfriends, I was mostly on my own. Sure, they’d drop everything to be there for me if I asked, but they were happy and I didn’t want to rain on their parades with my boy drama. I decided to nurse my mangled heart alone and push through by going to the gym and wearing myself out until I couldn’t think anymore.

  A good workout helped, and when I got back home I tried to lose myself in Wuthering Heights to keep my mind off of things. After all, compared to Heathcliff and Cathy I didn’t have any real problems, right? It wasn’t happening, though. Half a dozen kids ran up and down the hall outside my room, screaming and laughing at the top of their lungs so that I couldn’t concentrate. With the whole family packed in our house it was like Grand Central Station at rush hour.

  I dropped the book on my bed, flopped back on my pillows, and wondered what Dylan was doing. Memories of our little adventure at Caroline’s brought a smile to my face for the first time that day. Was he home licking his wounds after walking in on Elora with her ex? Hopefully he wasn’t too crushed from that, because she wasn’t worth it. How had he ended up with that cheating skank, anyway? Was he just on the rebound from Dani and looking for someone—anyone—to take her place?

  The boy could do so much better. He just needed to find the right girl. It was too bad I couldn’t put Dannika on the job. She loved playing matchmaker and had a knack for finding someone’s perfect puzzle piece. Of course after the way she’d dumped him I couldn’t exactly ask her to get involved. It would be too weird. But what if I stood in for her?

  I sat up on my bed as the thought struck. Why not? How hard could it be? I just needed to find a suitable girl and then fix it so they ended up together. It sounded simple enough—except for the fact that I had no idea who would be suitable for Dylan.

  The idea fell apart as four of my little cousins barged into my room without bothering to knock. I almost yelled at them for being so rude, but shrugged and let it go. It was Christmas, after all.

  “Play a game with us, Allie!”

  “Yeah, we’re bored.”

  They all looked so pathetically eager that I couldn’t say no. Dylan’s love life would just have to wait for a while.

  I had a lot more fun with them than I’d thought I would. They were all younger and acted like I was the most amazing thing since the invention of the cell phone. It’s hard to feel sorry for yourself when you’ve got a fan club following you around like a pack of eager little puppies. My self-esteem got a big kick out of that. Of course all good things come to an end, and a little question and answer session after a game of Life brought me crashing back to earth.

  “How old are you, Allie?”

  “I’m sixteen.”

  “Are you in high school?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I sighed as I thought of Seth and his blonde leech. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  That was the Million Dollar Question, wasn’t it? I honestly had no idea. “I guess I just haven’t found the right boy, yet,” I told them.

  “Why not?”

  “Good ones are hard to find.”

  Their questions left me thoughtful as we broke for lunch. Dylan was a good one, and seemed to be in the same boat as me. Could I help him out? Who could be his perfect match? I kn
ew lots of girls who’d eagerly cuddle up with him, but were any of them truly right for him? I needed some expert guidance if I was going to tackle this problem and there was only one person to ask, so I texted Dannika.

  Me: How’s Lubbock?

  Dani: Boring. Hanging out with the family because there’s nothing else to do. Did you go to that party last night?

  Me: Yeah. Seth was there. With his new girlfriend

  Dani: Oh, no. I’m so sorry

  Me: Oh, well. I should have known it would happen

  Dani: 

  Me: So I need some advice

  Dani: I’ve got lots of that

  Me: I need the benefit of your mad matchmaking skills

  Dani: ???

  Me: There’s this guy I want to set up. He’s a real sweetheart, but he’s had a run of bad luck with girls lately

  Dani: Is he cute? Why don’t you go out with him?

  That threw me off and I blinked at my phone. Go out with Dylan? That was just crazy. There was no way that could work.

  Me: You know I’m too hung up on Seth to even think about anyone else

  Dani: Too bad. Could have killed two birds with one stone

  Me: Not happening. What I really want to know is how you do it. How do you find the perfect girl for a guy?

  Dani: How well do you know this guy?

  Me: Not really well

  Dani: Then the first thing is to find out everything you can about him. What is he into? What kind of music does he like? That kind of stuff

  Me: OK

  Dani: The more you can find out the better. Then find a girl who has a similar personality and likes the same things

  Me: I can do that

  Dani: Just be patient. It takes time. If you jump the gun you’re liable to set him up with someone totally wrong and just make things worse

  Me: Gotcha

  Dani: Are you sure? Patience really isn’t your thing

  Me: I’m sure. I’ve got this

  Dani: Well, if you get stuck or anything, text me. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do

  I talked to her a while longer, but my mind was already chewing over the Dylan problem. I needed to get to know him better. I’d either have to get someone who knew him to answer a bunch of questions, or I’d have to spend time with him myself. That was obviously the better way, but how could I do that? I hadn’t even gotten his number last night. But I knew someone who had it. Walker’s number was in my contacts.

  Me: Hey, do you have Dylan’s number?

  Walker: Yes

  Me: Well, can I have it?

  Walker: Now why would you want that, Allie?

  Me: I just wanted to thank him for last night

  Walker: Oh, really? For what?

  Me: He saved me from getting nailed in the face by a ketchup bottle

  Walker: Oh, I have got to hear this story

  Me: I’ll tell you later. Will you please just give me his number?

  There was a long pause and I began to think he’d forgotten about me. Finally the number popped up in my message window.

  Me: Thanks! Oh, and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone I asked

  Walker: What are you up to?

  Me: Just want to do a favor for a friend

  Walker: Dylan is your friend?

  Was he? I chewed my lip as I thought that one over.

  Me: Yeah, he is

  Walker: All right, I won’t say anything. Just remember that Laney is going to skin me if she finds out I’ve been keeping a secret from her. Especially one like this

  Me: You’re a doll, Walker

  Walker: That’s what I hear. Behave yourself

  I copied the number into my contacts and stared at it. Was I really going to do this? I started typing before I could change my mind.

  Me: Did you manage to get all the ketchup off?

  My heart thumped as I sent it, and I don’t think I breathed until the response came back.

  Dylan: I think so, but my shirt will never be the same. How did you get my number?

  Me: I have my ways ;)

  Dylan: Have the police called you?

  Me: No, not yet

  Dylan: I’m hoping they don’t. So what are you up to today?

  Me: Entertaining a house full of little kids. Trying not to die of boredom

  Dylan: I figured you’d be spending your vacation hanging out with your friends

  Me: They’re all either out of town or busy with their boyfriends

  Dylan: So you basically just texted me because you’re bored and have no one else to talk to?

  Me: Well… Not just

  Dylan: LOL. It’s not like I’m doing anything exciting. I was about to re-watch Stranger Things on Netflix

  Me: I love that show. Can’t wait for the next season

  Dylan: Want to come over and watch with me? You can get away from the kids for a while and enjoy some more age-appropriate entertainment

  Me: Sure! Sounds fun. Where do you live?

  He sent me his address and I added it to his contact information.

  Me: Be right over

  Dylan: I’ll wait until you get here so you don’t miss any of the creepy fun

  I bounced off of my bed in excitement. This was perfect! There was no telling what I could find out about him by visiting his house, and if I was lucky I’d get a peek at his Netflix list and find out what he liked to watch. This was going to be a huge step towards finding a girl who’d be right for him. Plus I had to admit that it would be fun hanging out with him. He was much better company than my herd of little cousins. And way hotter.

  Dylan lived in a one-story brick house not far from the high school. It was cute—if his mom had done the decorating, she had taste. The place was cozy and comfortable inside, lived-in without being cluttered, and I felt at home right away.

  I wish I could have said the same thing about his little sister, Rachel. Apparently I didn’t impress her at all, because she turned up her nose at me and snorted.

  “Is she another one of your girls?” she asked Dylan.

  He grinned. “No, this is Allison. She’s not mine.”

  I felt a twinge of annoyance. Like he wouldn’t want me or something? But he offered me a drink and a snack then led me to the other side of the house.

  “We’ll let her have the living room with Spongebob,” he said.

  The room where we ended up was smaller and secluded with a big screen mounted on the wall and a couch of buttery soft leather. A black lab wandered over and sniffed me curiously before settling down on the floor by Dylan’s feet.

  “That’s Maxine. I got her as a puppy when I was eight.” She thumped her tail when she heard her name, and he bent to give her a quick pat. “Pick a spot. This is Dad’s space, but he’s in Austin on a business trip and won’t mind us using it.”

  I sat down on the couch and Dylan took the other side. He’d already set up the show so all he had to do was hit Play on the remote. It was a relief not having the kids all over me, and the couch was comfortable enough to melt into. Dylan was easy to be around, too. I didn’t feel any of the awkwardness that usually hit when I was over at a boy’s house for the first time.

  We sat through the first episode, then Dylan went to the kitchen to bring back a couple of water bottles and some spinach dip and chips. That tided us over for the next two episodes. We talked a little during the show, but mostly we were content to sit back and just watch together. As the third episode ended Dylan paused it and got up.

  “Bathroom break. Ladies first.”

  When I got back he took his turn, and while he was gone I poked through his Netflix queues. Quickly as I could I took pictures of them so I could go over them later. I’d just finished and put my phone away when he came back.

  “Need anything?” he asked.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  We made it through two more episodes before his mom tapped on the door frame.

  “Dinner is almost ready. I made those ch
icken enchiladas you like. Allison, would you care to join us?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was go home, but I’d hear about it if I wasn’t at dinner to help out with the kids.

  “I’d love to, Mrs. Stafford, but my family is expecting me back.”

  She smiled and went back to the kitchen while Dylan walked me to the door.

  “Thanks for coming by and keeping me company,” he said.

  “Thanks for giving me a break from the herd.”

  “We should do it again. Watching this is better with a friend.”

  “Sure. Text me anytime you’re up for it.”

  “Okay, I will. I don’t have much going on. I may go hang out at Quinn’s or something, but other than that…”

  “Just let me know. See you later, Dylan.”

  He waved, but watched from his porch until I’d pulled away before going back inside. On the way home I made a mental tally of what I’d learned. He was a dog person—big dogs, not little dogs. He liked chicken enchiladas. According to Netflix he liked action movies, horror, and science fiction. Now it was time to think. Who did I know who liked those things?

  Chapter Three

  To my surprise he texted me the next afternoon. I was hiding in my room from the kids and smiled as I picked up my phone. I’d been about half-convinced that I’d never hear from him again.

  Dylan: What are you doing?

  Me: Reading Wuthering Heights

  Dylan: We read that in 8th grade English

  Me: Yeah. Mrs. Fleisch’s class. It’s my favorite book

  Dylan: Seriously?

  Me: Yes. I read it about once a year. I never get tired of it

  Dylan: Want to get out for a while?

  Me: Abso-freakin-lutely!

  Dylan: I’ve got two tickets to the Ice Rays hockey game this evening

  I gnawed on my lip as I considered that. Hockey? I wasn’t much into sports, although I enjoyed our high school football games and usually watched the Cowboys games with my family. But this promised to add to my insight into Dylan. I knew he’d been a major jock before his accident, although I’d had no clue he liked hockey. It wasn’t exactly the first sport that leaped to mind when you lived in south Texas.