Page 35 of Actually Yours

Is that really a job?

I watch on, amused, as they wade through the options of men and their respective professions, hoping that they land on someone better than Tom, the accountant.

PING.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A message from Jake! I haven’t heard from him since he encouraged me to go out on my date tonight and was wondering if I’d ever hear from him again.

JAKE: How’d your date go with the accountant?

(Hmmm, so he’s still interested in hearing about my dating life? I don’t hate it).

AMELIA: It didn’t go.

AMELIA: He was a dud.

The three dots appear and disappear and I hold my breath, waiting for his response.

JAKE: I’m glad.

A squeal bubbles out of me involuntarily, distracting my friends from the task at hand.He’s glad??

“What’s happening?” Bella asks.

I hide my phone behind my back. “Nothing, just excited about who you’re going to choose for my next date.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lilly raises her glass to toast me. “We’re going to find a winner in here, for sure.”

Once their attention is focused back on the folder, I pull my phone out, my hands sweaty and slippery on the smooth surface. What does he mean, he’sglad?

JAKE: Millie? Are you still there?

JAKE: Was that rude?

JAKE: Should I want your date with the accountant to go well?

I re-read the three messages from Jake that had been sent in quick succession. Hating that text messages are so cryptic. There needs to be a way to infer tone from these simple sentences.

AMELIA: You’re fine. The date was not.

JAKE: Want to talk about it?

AMELIA: NO!!!

JAKE: C’mon…

AMELIA: OK, I’ll give you a four-word synopsis and then we’ll never speak of this again.

JAKE: Deal.

AMELIA: He. Brought. His. Mum.

JAKE: …

JAKE: …

JAKE: …

I can almost hear the shock and laughter in his three dots, appearing and disappearing with glee.

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