Page 8 of Hero Hair

Charlotte groans. “I’m in. Yeah. I’m probably only agreeing because I just ate my weight in sugar and chocolate, but pencil me in anyways. Ten in the morning tomorrow, right?”

I nod, and she drains the remnants of her red wine. Carina agrees as well. Jasmine says she’ll meet us there if her hair appointment doesn’t run over. Jasmine’s hair appointments always conveniently run over.

“Where is the commitment, Jaz? Hamstrings before highlights!” I exclaim, shaking a finger in her direction.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re one to talk about commitment,” she replies. It’s lighthearted, but I still cringe a little. Mostly my friends don’t mention my lack of a boyfriend. Charlotte is fresh out of a long-term relationship. One would think she’d be more understanding.

I laugh it off. “Listen. I have commitment. It’s a staunch commitment to not committing. That’s respectable, right? It’s not as if I don’t commit to anything. I have my studio and my fitness. I just don’t see the worth in committing to something that has the ability to commit less to me. My commitments are unwavering.” See what I did there? No one can argue with that logic.

Carina shrugs, checks her phone, and stares off in the distance. She’s distracted by a man. A taken one.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, though. Just once I want you to try. Keep your heart out of it if you want. Try to date a man. No bagging and tagging and high-fiving. Stay the night. Go on more than one date. Don’t have sex on the first night,” Charlotte says.

Someone laughs and covers a cackle with a giggle.

Jasmine nods her approval of the ludicrous plan. “I couldn’t possibly. Who could be worth that?”

“Who has been your best sex lately?”

I shake my head. “I can’t call one already on the list. I need a new guy if we’re going to do this properly.” Maybe it’s the wine thinking, but this plan gets better and better as the seconds pass. Haven’t I wondered what it might be like to have someone to come home to every night?

Jasmine screams. “She’s considering it. Dear baby Jesus, she’s going to do it. The female gigolo is doing a man more than once.”

Blinking slowly I hold a palm out. “Don’t seal this deal yet. I’m considering it. To prove all you bitches wrong.” I take another sip of my wine. “It means I’ll have to deviate from my usual type. That may pose a problem with chemistry.”

“Valid point,” Charlotte says. “How will you ever stand tolerating a man who respects you for more than what’s between your legs? The thought is horrifying.”

She forgot about my boobs. I paid good money for those. I rid myself of my flat chest as soon asFlying Lotus, my Yoga studio, started bringing in a steady income. They aren’t huge rocks bolted to my chest nor are they so small as to not be noticed. I needed to be able to practice yoga without being hindered. My silicone bags are the absolute perfect size. If there is one thing you can find without fail in Southern California it’s a plastic surgeon with precision skill. We have the best in the world.

Readjusting my bra strap, I glare at her. “It’s a mutual understanding that all we both care about is what is between our legs. Not just the men. I’ll have to change my mindset, too. When I’ve submerged myself in this type of situation for so long, you have to realize how…awkward it will be.” I let an actual date flit through my mind. One in which we talk and laugh. We share our interests and learn about each other with the sole intent being to get to know each other to see if our personalities jive. It’s horrifying.

When you’ve never opened the door to this, it’s hard to understand what it truly means. How can so many people date? The probability that you’ll end up alone and hurt is high. Almost certain, actually. People don’t have to like each other to have sex. Not even a little bit. You just have to want sex and find the other person physically attractive. The simplicity of it makes anything other than this mindset absolutely boggling. Perhaps I could find someone worth keeping around. I wouldn’t be so lonely. My mom would finally be able to meet someone in my life other than my girlfriends. The thought makes my heart race.

My friends start a casual conversation about my sex life. I don’t balk. It’s not normal for a woman to lead a lifestyle where boyfriends don’t exist. Even if I don’t agree with their choices, I understand why they think I’m strange. It is strange. In college it was perfectly acceptable as long as you used all the proper precautions. Suddenly in our late twenties I’m an oddity.

“Let’s make it interesting,” Jasmine says. “If you can have a normal relationship with a dude, then we all pay for your share of girls’ vacation. It’s Vegas this year, so you know how awesome it would be.”

I smile even though I’m still nervous and confused as sin. Never one to shy away from a bet, I say, “You’re on. Get out your Gucci wallets, ladies. I’m going to crush a relationship and then you’ll all wonder why you can’t find the right one.”

“If she doesn’t win and fails miserably, like we all predict, then she has to buy drinks and dinners the entire vacation,” Charlotte says, her tone victorious.

I stand, place my hands on my hips, and cock my head to the side. “Oh, yee of little faith, you have yourselves a deal.” Who the fuck am I going to find to participate in this experiment long enough to garner a free trip to Vegas? “How long does the relationship have to last?”

I shake Charlotte’s hand, because she’s closest and because she’s smiling so wide it’s almost a snarl.

“Months. And you can’t sleep with him until at least the fourth date,” she says through her teeth.

I widen my eyes as I glance at each of my friends one by one. They nod in agreement.

“That’s an average amount of time, Teala,” Charlotte replies. My expression must be alarmed. “Four dates is actually on the lower end. I usually don’t sleep with a guy until like the fifth or sixth date.” She must wear a chastity belt made of solid steel and swallow the goddamn key.

I sit down and put my head in my hands. I don’t want them to see me sweat, but damn. Admitting I have no idea what I’m doing is hard. “I’ll need advice. I don’t know if I can wait that long. There are actual decent looking men out in the world who will wait that long for sex? Four dates?” Incredulity seeps into my voice. “A relationship. Sure, fine. That’s something I could manage, but waiting four dates for sex is like torture!”

“If he really wants to be with you, he will put in the work and time. You can’t use sex to keep a relationship going,” Charlotte explains. “That’s lesson number one.”

I nod.

“Find common ground.”

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