Page 2 of The Photo
“I wouldn’t know. My last date was—” I pause for dramatic effect. “Last Jul-ember.”
“Has it been that long since you had dick?”
“I’m not good with real men. They always seem so pushy to have sex on the first date.”
“Because it’s a normal, everyday function, Rowan.” Chelsea eyes me warily. “That poor deprived vagina will close over if you don’t use it.” She crosses her legs.
It’s not that I’m neglecting it. I’m hopeless at dating. I met a guy from the media studies course a few months ago. He was reasonably attractive. On a scale of ugly to Noah, he was midway. We went out for drinks. The conversation dried up like a raisin. It was so awkward. He downed his full pint in three seconds flat and asked if I’d like to fuck. I suspect he guessed the date had nose-dived and didn't want to waste the opportunity for sex. To kick my self-esteem harder, he called me Robin. I’ve already told Chelsea the not so heated details. I can categorically state there was no riveting conversation or stimulating sex that night. “I must be sexy-time challenged,” I proclaim.
Chelsea appears unconvinced. “It’s not that. You’re a cling on.”
“An alien?” I say dryly.
“No. You’re all romance and sticking together forever.” She lifts her forefingers and draws a big heart in the air. “Whereas, I’d rather have choices and plenty of it.”
“I’m not programmed to play the field. It’s too much effort. How will sleeping with a string of blokes enhance my life?”
Chelsea glares at me without blinking. “And obsessing over a model from Canada will enrich your life?”
Apparently, she doesn’t understand why I’m so upset about Noah. It’s not my fault I’m a cling on. I’d rather call it dedicated or loyal. “It’s too late now anyway. He and Lucy probably have a secret thing happening. She’s winning him over.” I suck in my fingers one at a time. “What bar doesn’t serve nuts?”
“They ran out.” Chelsea rolls her eyes. “Your mood is like a fart in a spacesuit. Unwanted and rotten.”
The bottom of my pint glass thuds on the coaster. “That’s obviously one of Jonah’s comments. You can’t claim a ten-year-old’s joke as your own.” I act unimpressed. Her kid brother is a real cutie. “You’re supposed to be my friend, Chelsea. Make me feel better. Tell me Lucy is a witch or buy me another pint.”
“Why don’t you message her? Befriend the enemy,” she suggests.
My brows lock together. “And why the hell would I do that?”
“So you can find out if they’re getting flirty, or aren’t, as the case may be. Perhaps it will put your crazy mind at ease.” Chelsea sucks in a long slurp, wiping her mouth with her sleeve when she finishes. “You do know this is irrational and utterly fucked up?” The phone wings back across the table, clanking the base of my glass. “You’re obsessed over a guy who has no idea you even walk the planet.”
I glance at the phone. Perhaps I should message her for intel or an invitation to their wedding.
“You have a strange look on your face, Rowan.” Chelsea leans closer.
“Shh! I’m thinking.” My gaze lands on the group of guys at the next table. None of them have that certain indescribable yumminess that Noah exudes.
Fingers snap in my line of vision, breaking my daze. “About?”
I slump back in the bench seat and groan. “How best to word my message.”
“For real?” Chelsea covers her eyes with her palms and shakes her head. “You’re actually going to reach out to her?” She peeks out through slitted fingers.
“Yeah! You told me to. It’s one of your better ideas.” I don’t sound convinced because I’m still upset by the whole episode. Also, it’s just hit home—there’s more chance of me meeting Noah Adams than my eye color changing.
“I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”
The story is right there, begging me to add a comment for Lucy’s attention.
I articulate the words as I type.
Rowan Hudson:
Hey, Lucy. How cool is the repost from Noah? I’d happily have him as my baby daddy too. The guy is beyond sexy. Although such perfection must be flawed…
“Where are you going with this, Rowan?” Chelsea warns, interrupting my thought process.
“I’m planting a seed of doubt.” I blow off her concern and continue repeating the last sentence to get my flow back.
