Page 100 of Not Dating Material

“Well, first, after thirty-seven messages, I think he deserves at least one back. Though I’m sure if you push yourself, you could make it two or three.”

“I don’t want to lead him on.”

“Too late for that.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Oh, I am, but you want me to encourage you to end things with him, and I’m not going to do that.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Says you.” Xander lowers his voice to a hiss. “You hurt that little angel, and I will gut you. Gut you.”

“Pfft. No one is going to let you near sharp instruments.”

“If you think I can’t use my eyeliner, you’d be sorely mistaken.”

“Well, this conversation was fun,” I say flatly.

“What did you expect? I’m obsessed with Molly.”

“Then why don’t you write back to him thirty-seven times?”

“Because I’m drained from almost dying this morning.”

“And now we’re back on you.”

He ignores me. “If you love me, you’ll sweep him off his feet. I want to see you happy and in love. You never know when it’s too late.”

“Ah. I forgot my entire existence revolves around you.” And while I say it like a joke, we both know it does, and we both know I don’t actually care about that.

“I obviously need to up the near-death experiences if you’re getting that forgetful.”

“I have to go. My client will be here soon.”

“Fine. But you need to message him back. Seriously. Just the thought of his poor heart breaking makes me want to cry. You’d be lucky to have him.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know. That’s the problem. I’d be lucky to have him. And what would he get out of it? A grumpy, broken shirt-for-brains with no future.”

“Don’t talk about my best friend like that,” he pouts.

“It’s true.”

“Fuck you and fuck the filthy horse you rode in on. If you’re broken and have no future, it means I have no future, and I’d actually like to maintain a tiny bit of hope in this shitty existence. So why don’t you pull your balls out of your ass and ask Molly on a date? A proper date. And stop being a fucking dick to him and pushing him away when you two are the most beautiful, amazing people I have ever met, and if you try to tell me otherwise, I will dump condiments all through your bed while you’re sleeping.”

“Ouch.”

“You’d deserve it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you’re allowed to be happy. So stop being a dumbass about it.”

Xander hangs up, and when I look back at my phone, it’s still open to Molly’s messages. And he’s sent more.

The first is a photo of him, and he’s drawn all over it to turn himself into a squirrel.

Aren’t I cute?

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