Page 24 of Betting on the Best Friend
“A spoon with a hole in it. That’s funny.”
He shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth turns up. “That’s barely funnier than nothing.”
“Fair.” I adjust his phone to frame him exactly right. “Mrs. Davenport’s rockets.”
He grins and I capture it. “Now lean with your back, arms crossed again.” He shifts and resettles. “Helicopter ejector seats.”
He laughs and I snap. “Got it. Time for work.”
I scroll the photos as we walk back to the library. “The ones where you smiled for real are good, but I was wrong about the tree. My bad. It still looks posed.”
“Guys don’t regularly lean against trees in casual conversation?”
“Apparently that’s a lie catalogs taught us. We’ll try again later. It’ll be easy with more time.” I hand his phone back as we walk into the back office.
At our desks, we each grab our ID lanyards and put them on. We would normally head out to the stacks, but Sandy, our director, steps out from her office. “Greetings, morning people. Central Library has a librarian going out on maternity soon, and they’re looking for someone to cover, minimum eight weeks and potentially up to twelve. If you want a chance to move to the big house, this is it. Let me know, and I’ll pass along your name.”
Charlie and I exchange looks. Both of us would enjoy working at the main library, but not without each other. Knowing that without having to say it is as good as a hug.
Sandy goes off to confer with the circulation manager. We head out and Charlie goes to nonfiction while I hit adult fiction. We’ll meet at the reference desk when the library opens. The morning always kicks off with a flurry of questions from patrons in person and over the phone before we get the late morning lull.
I turn on the computers and get the library software open on each, but it’s so routine that my mind wanders to Charlie’s dating profile. He hasn’t filled it in, and I mull what will make him stand out to the right person.
I know the answers, but I don’t know how to translate them for someone swiping through profiles every two seconds. The right girl for Charlie will have a sixth sense for hidden gems, from her favorite restaurants to her favorite movies. She’d know Charlie is a gem if they met in person, but you can’t pick that up from an app.
Our hidden-gem radar is why Charlie and I get along so well. We both love cult classic films, not because they have cult classic status but because we like the freshness of the storytelling. And our favorite restaurant isn’t even a restaurant—it’s an old man named Larry who smokes brisket in his front yard every Monday and Tuesday, and you walk up to his chain-link fence carrying your own container and hope you get there before he’s sold out for the day.
No matter the shenanigan, Charlie is curious and ready. I knew the minute I met Charlie that I’d never faze him. There is no such thing as being too much for Charlie.
How do you communicate all that in a profile? And why does every part of me still hate the idea of trying to?
I don’t like that I inspired this.Idon’t even want to do this stupid app. I have to. Charlie doesn’t, and I don’t want him to because . . .
Because it feels like sharing.
Well.
“That’s a bad look, Ruby Ramos,” I mutter to myself. I’m very good at sharing my favorite people with my other favorite people, butI’mchoosing the sharing.
Ohhh, that’s why I’m more comfortable with the idea of Sydney. I feel like I have influence there versus none with strangers who pick Charlie from an app.
Ugh, now I have to do better because I know better.
What a bummer.
Chapter Ten
Charlie
So far, the onlyeffect of number two on the list—making Ruby see me as dateable—is that she peppers me with random questions all morning.
Passing each other in front of a computer station: “Would you say you’re more of a Charlie Brown or a Charlie’s Angel?”
Hunting me down in the audiobooks: “You’re a mountain over beach guy, but would you say Appalachians or Rockies?”
When I come by to help her tidy the kids’ section: “If you were offered a superpower to pick the fastest line every time but it meant you never had a cold side of your pillow, would you take it?”
After that one, I snorted. “Come on, Ruby. You know the answers to all of these.”
