6. Abby #2
The dots appear within seconds, but take forever to formulate a response. I take my sweet time to dig up a sweater while I wait to see what she has to say.
Marissa
Oh my gosh! Is he hot? Have the best time. Can’t wait for details!
YOU. ARE. INFURIATING.
Marissa
Yet you still love me.
Debatable.
Marissa
Can’t wait to hear how it goes.
If I call you after this shitshow.
Marissa
Oh you’ll call. You always call, bestie.
I hate you.
Marissa
You love me. That’s what pisses you off even more.
Damn it. She’s right. Even after all this, I love her because she knows that even if this is a disaster, I need to get out—to rip off the Band-Aid and start meeting people again. I really hate that she’s right.
Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Marissa
Gosh. You didn’t even make me sweat. Thank goodness I became the lawyer between the two of us. You’re a shitty litigator.
I’m not a litigator. I’m a web designer! I’m going back out there and getting this disaster over with.
Marissa
That’s the spirit!
Again, I hate you. Bye.
Marissa
Love you too. Bye.
“Okay, I found a sweater.” I hold it up like I caught a fucking trout on a fishing trip. What is wrong with me? I find Malloy looking out at the harbor.
“This view is amazing. I wouldn’t leave this spot if I lived here,” he says without taking his eyes off the water.
I don’t remember much about Malloy, aside from what Clay mentioned in passing.
Clay was never a fan. Always told me Malloy was crass and difficult.
Clay complained he was rough around the edges and never fit in with his group of friends.
I only vaguely remember Clay mentioning that out of all the guys, Malloy only got along with Rios because they grew up together.
Now that I remember correctly, Clay’s exact words were, “condescending prick,” but something about the way Malloy is looking out at the water, he’s really giving off “sensitive giant” by the look of things.
I know I’ve known him for a mere three minutes, but I’ve always been a good judge of character, and he’s not really giving off the vibe of a person that seems rude or cocky.
“Yeah, I can’t argue with that. It’s nice to sit there with a good book and just get lost most of the day,” I say back.
“I could see that.” He smiles, completely lost in thought.
My stomach growls loudly, pulling both of us from our thoughts.
“Where should we go to eat?” I ask, both of us laughing.
“Oh, I have the perfect spot.” He smiles, and it’s warm and welcoming. Maybe this date won’t be half bad.
I was wrong. This date is definitely not what I expected.
Malloy brought me to a hot dog stand. Not even a food truck, but an actual hot dog stand like one outside a baseball field. I put in the effort to be in heels, a tight dress, and full makeup as per Marissa's instructions, and I'm sitting on the curb trying not to spill condiments all over myself.
Here’s the deal. I am not uptight. I'm the girl who would rather stay in, wearing my sweats, with a movie and popcorn, than wear this skintight dress. I am all about that life. I’d choose that over the skintight dress anyway.
But I put in effort. I did the layers of makeup and a smokey eye.
As someone who works from home and doesn’t go out much, I looked up a tutorial and got the latest trend on how to curl my hair just right!
I went to the trouble to get the look down tonight, so yes, I wanted a nice night out.
Ask any girl, and they will tell you that for all this work, they want effort put into their night.
I didn’t do all this to sit on the side of the road and eat a hot dog.
I could have put tennis shoes on and some jeans with a simple tee and just grabbed a hot dog any day of the week.
It sort of feels like Malloy just thought of this random thing while he was walking over here and saw the cart and pulled me in this direction.
If Marissa went out of her way to make this happen for me after such a hiatus on my end of dating, why start with this introduction into the dating world? This isn’t making me feel very special.
I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but once someone has been through divorce, they just want the effort made if they’re going to start dating again. That’s all. So here I am, with a significant intention to make myself look nice tonight, and this guy brought me to get a hot dog. Figures.
“How long have you been back in Boston?” Malloy asks with a mouth full of his second hot dog.
Sipping my drink, I take in the people walking by. “Almost two months. It’s strange to think I’ve been gone because the moment I unpacked, it felt like I never left. I thought moving away would be the right move for me emotionally, but my heart just wasn’t in California.”
“Yeah, I could see that. I visited the West Coast once. It wasn’t for me. But the weather is nice. I’ll give it that much,” Malloy says.
“Yeah, it does have that going for it. It’s never horrible weather in California, especially in the winter when everyone is drowning in snow; they’re still soaking up the sun.” I smile.
That is something many people asked me about when I first moved to Boston.
When we are freezing in the winter months here, they’d always be baffled that I’d choose to leave the California sun to endure the Boston cold.
But once I met Clay, nothing else mattered.
Now I’ll see how I feel enduring all the seasons without the one person who made everything possible for me all year long.
We once again sit uncomfortably silent. I can’t take it much longer, so I simply blurt it out.
“Malloy, what are we doing on this date together?”
I can’t take the small talk about the weather from Boston to California. The longer we are on this date, the more it feels like he doesn’t want to be here. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be here either, but I was forced on this date. What’s his excuse?
“What do you mean? We’re on a date,” he says like he rehearsed that excuse all day before going out tonight.
I look at him with a come the fuck on look on my face.
He lets out a breath. “You want the truth?”
“Always,” I say before taking a bite of a potato chip.
“Please don’t say that, then get all pissed when I tell you.
You seem like a pretty chill chick. I mean, I get this vibe from you that we could actually be friends.
I don’t say that lightly because I don’t have any female friends, at least none that I don’t want to sleep with,” he adds, and the smile that crosses his face shows off a side of him that most likely has girls falling at his feet. I’m not one of them.
“I promise I will not take offense.” I cross my heart and laugh at the ridiculousness.
He blows out a breath again, nerves really taking over his behavior.
“You know Rios from Clay’s station, I assume.” He looks at me as I nod. “Well, he’s my best friend. I’ve known him as long as I’ve understood friendship. I’d do anything for him. That being said, I wouldn’t do anything to compromise that friendship. He’s my ride or die.”
Malloy looks away, focused on something in the distance, and nothing he’s saying makes any sense. Is he saying he has something for Rios? I don’t get it.
“Well, you see, Rios has four sisters, one of which is the youngest. Baylee’s in her last year of college.
She was always that bratty little sister, and growing up, that’s always how I saw her.
But something changed. When I was around her recently, I felt differently.
We felt differently. And I think Rios noticed something. ”
He’s fidgeting with his hands, and I can tell this conversation is only getting more uncomfortable for him. I put down my food and grab his hands. Nothing about my gesture is romantic—I’m holding onto him to show he’s got someone to lean on, and he continues.
“Marissa got ahold of Rios right when he and I were in a heated discussion about his sister. I guess she’s trying to play matchmaker with you and Clay.
She thought she’d light a fire under your asses and called Rios to see if he could make Clay jealous.
I don’t know the whole story, but she called when I was over at his place.
“He put me on the spot after he hung up with Marissa. I couldn’t say no because he wanted to prove a point to see if I would accept in front of his sister.
The moment I told Rios I would go out with you; I saw Baylee’s eyes dim.
It fucking gutted me. But I also don’t know life without Rios.
I ended up accepting the date. Accepting the date with you was a dick move to Baylee, but the only way to prove to Rios I wasn’t making a move on his sister, you know? ”
He hangs his head, and I can see he’s absolutely wrecked.
“You’re not a dick. You care for both of them. You have a heart. There’s love for them both in this situation. That’s evident,” I tell him. I was not expecting this crazy story though.
I start laughing. At first, it’s a soft chuckle, but then it starts to become uncontrollable laughter. Malloy must think I’m crying at first, so he pats my back, but then I’m doubling over, cackling so loud, it’s hard to contain myself. Tears are springing from my eyes.
“Are you laughing, Abby? What’s so funny right now? I just told you I’m out on a fake date with you and that my friendship is sort of a shit show, and all this with Baylee went down, and you’re laughing at me?” He seems sort of in shock, and I’m still laughing.
“Well,” I’m trying to catch my breath, “yeah, sort of.” I continue to laugh because this is sort of a disaster.
“I mean, I feel like I’m on an episode of The Bachelor mixed with that old show Punked . Remember that show from years ago? I mean, this is sort of ridiculous. Look at us. We are sort of disasters.” I’m still laughing, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“Hey, I love The Bachelor . I watch it, along with Love is Blind , with the guys at my station. We take bets any chance we get on who’s going to win.”