Chapter Seven Carys #2
Bridget waves it off. ‘That’s just details, babe.’
Whit laughs. ‘You might find you care more about the details when you need a surgeon.’
‘You say that but you human doctors only need to know people. Vets need to know all about the insides of cows and guinea pigs and chickens.’ Bridget places her hands on her hips. ‘Really I think people surgeons could work harder.’
I’m not quite sure why I’m now picturing animals performing surgery, but I think it’s the tension making my head spin.
‘I agree. He’s a good ’un,’ whispers Dolly, and this gives me a different kind of spinny feeling. I guess I’m just glad she sees what I do.
‘And Warren is lovely too,’ I whisper back.
‘Much nicer than the alpha male creep I dated yesterday,’ she mutters under her breath.
I know who she means. He was my ninth date today, and immediately gave me odd vibes.
I feel awful saying that, because I’m sure I don’t make the best first impression, but he kept talking about traditional gender roles.
I was so tired by that point that I just let him talk on and on, and he barely noticed I hadn’t said anything.
Maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s what he wants.
Luckily, the others seem not to have heard our back and forth, because Bridget is needling Lina about her dates.
‘I have no idea who I like or don’t like, if I’m honest with you. I think I need to give them a few more dates.’ Lina throws her hands up in the air, slopping a little of her drink. ‘It’s just so hard! And weird!’
‘That is the show, Lina,’ says Bridget rather sharply.
This seems to land badly for Niamh. ‘Come on now, being here is different. It’s intense. That’s what Lina means, yeah?’
‘I just don’t have a sense of their heart,’ Lina says. ‘It’s not like you can see an aura through a screen.’
There’s an awkward quiet that I feel the urge to fill with enthusiastic support.
‘That’s very true. Hopefully, spending more time with them will help us all.’ It makes Lina smile, at least.
‘God, don’t you think it would just be easier to date a girl?’ groans Hannah C., flopping back on the couch.
That doesn’t seem right. Why would it be easier just because we’re the same gender?
I think of Miri and Sara in the street on the way here.
That didn’t seem easy. I can’t work out how to say this out loud without citing them as an example, but I can’t do that without giving away that Dolly and I met already, which is a strict no-no.
Dolly, however, snorts so loudly that she startles half the group.
‘What’s so funny?’ Hannah C. has what Ang would describe as a stink face.
‘It’s the line my lesbian friends hear all the time from straight girls,’ Dolly says casually, but I can feel the warning underneath it. Protective. Maybe she’s like that with all her friends. ‘People are people, no gender is easier than another.’
I wonder… I wonder if having lesbian friends and being part of the LGBTQ+ culture means Dolly has, I don’t know, kissed a girl, like the Katy Perry song. I don’t know why I’m thinking of that.
‘Hannah C., that’s kind of homophobic,’ Bridget says in a serious tone. Beside her, the other two Hannahs nod.
‘Well, I’m sorry,’ Hannah C. says, sounding not remotely sorry. ‘I just thought it would be nice.’
Hannah S. starts talking about her experience as a wrestler and everyone mistaking her for being into women because of her job, and I wish I could listen but I’m having a small crisis because oh God, am I being homophobic by assuming that Dolly might be into women just because of who her friends are?
Crap, am I just thinking about this because we’re sharing a room?
Is this the school changing room all over again, where anyone caught looking at each other too long was called ‘a gay’?
That happened to me a few times, and I don’t think I was even looking, but so much of my own behaviour reported back is baffling to me, like another person did it.
It’s just a thought. Thoughts are neutral, right? It’s the act that’s bad. God, I don’t even know.
I have to close the door firmly on those thoughts to pay attention, while studiously not looking in Dolly’s direction, which is quite hard because she’s sitting next to me.
‘Have you ever gone girl?’ asks Bridget like it’s something scandalous. Maybe it is when we’re on a dating show about men. The way she said it makes me feel a bit strange either way, especially after she told Hannah C. off.
Hannah S. frowns. ‘What, like the movie? What’s that got to do with lesbians? I haven’t faked my own death if that’s what you mean?’
‘Urgh, spoilers!’ groans Whit. ‘I never get time to watch films.’
Priya taps her fingernails against the bronze cup. ‘It was a book first.’
‘Or read. Though maybe I should put audiobooks on when I’m cutting. Might be better for me than listening to Taylor Swift all day long.’ She spots me perking up. ‘Bit weird to say, but there’s nothing like slicing someone open to “Look What You Made Me Do”.’
‘You scare me,’ Dolly says with a smile.
‘You know,’ Lina begins slowly, ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever really thought about the gender of the person I’m dating. Like, yes, I know I like men, but I don’t think that means I’d ever rule out women? Like Dolly says, people are people, and I think it’s perhaps not such a big deal for me.’
The sound of the room blurs, like I’m suddenly underwater.
Is that… possible?
How can it not be a big deal for her?
And I thought people know when they’re kids, isn’t that the whole ‘born this way’ line? Maybe this is just another social rule I’ve misunderstood; it wouldn’t be the first. Or maybe I’m just naive.
The conversation moves on before I can ask Lina what she really means, because everyone is suddenly arguing about CrossFit, because it seems one of the men is an instructor. What is CrossFit? I keep picturing angry strong man cartoons working out together.
They must have started arguing about something because the volume of the room shoots up, and now I really do have to cover my ears.
I don’t even know what started it but suddenly Lina stands up on the couch and claps her hands once.
‘That’s enough.’ Everyone falls silent. She’s a Pilates instructor, I think, so I guess she’s used to wrangling rooms of stressed-out, hangry women.
‘Arguing brings bad energy, and fighting over men is not very feminist.’
‘Now’s not the time for cat fights, ladies,’ calls Lucas Nguyen’s familiar voice. I’m not sure calling it cat fights is very feminist either, but there we go.
Somehow, he’s in our dormitory, the cameras trailing him. It’s funny seeing a popstar, or ex-popstar I guess, wandering around.
I school my face as Lucas struts over, carrying a shiny red box.
‘It’s time for you to request your second dates.
You can select as many men for second dates as you like, but the date will only happen if the match is mutual.
’ He spins to the camera that has followed him in and gives it a winning smile.
‘We’re all about consent here on Wedded Bliss. ’
He turns back to us to continue his speech. ‘If both of you request a date, then you’ll continue your stay in the warehouse and have a second date, still unseen. But if you get no mutual matches, you’ll be sent home.’
There’s a collective gulp as this sinks in. I didn’t realise we could be sent home so quickly. This is all moving so fast.
‘Let’s get voting, ladies!’ Lucas calls.
I’m surprised to see Reb still working, but she rushes over with a stack of paper and pencils, handing a set out to each of us. It’s all so retro; a bit like voting in a UK election – put your X in the box next to your candidate’s name.
It’s weird to know that, right now, Patrick is looking at his own version of the list. Will he pick me too? I hope so. I mark an X next to him.
I’m not sure if it’s eyes on your own page, like with voting, but I can’t help notice Dolly checking off a few men. She catches me looking.
‘Nosy,’ she teases, but I’m confused.
‘I thought you’d just pick Warren,’ I whisper.
She shrugs. ‘Still keeping my options open.’
They say if you go looking, you’ll find something, though I know that’s more about men’s phones than the voting paper of your roommate on a reality television show.
But still, my stomach squirms when I see the X on her paper next to Patrick.
What is she doing? I thought she wanted to size him up for me, but did she actually mean for her?
I feel hot all over and I’m not sure why, because if she likes Patrick, then fine, she should be with him, but she liked Warren, didn’t she? That’s what she said. I would step aside if there was something between them. Is this jealousy?
God, I hate neurotypicals sometimes. They never say what they mean!
I put an X next to Warren. And then a few more men, because it’s not about her, actually.
I should just be sensible, and give a few of these men more of my time, because Lina’s right – it’s hard to know them in just an hour.
I barely heard anything Cobey said, so I should give him some more time at least.
I fold up my slip, and as I reach to put it in Lucas’s box, my hand collides with Dolly’s, attempting the same thing. I swear I get a little electric shock, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
My roommate. My first friend here. The woman I watched stride into traffic. I don’t want to feel strange, complicated things about her. I don’t want us to feel like we’re competing for the same man. I don’t want to be angry with her. I just wish I understood her a bit better.
She gives me a big warm smile that I struggle to return.
‘Gosh, I’m tired,’ I say, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand. I hope the movement covers any springing tears.
‘Me too,’ she whispers back. She’s acting like nothing is wrong so maybe nothing is wrong. But why does it feel… bad? Some flavour of bad I can’t parse.
‘Okay, ladies, I’ll be back in the morning to hand out the good, and possibly some bad, news,’ Lucas says.
I’ve officially had enough of the day.
As I excuse myself to bed, I hope that across the warehouse, Patrick is thinking of me too.
Script/Vox Pop Hannahs
[The Hannahs sit on a couch together.]
HANNAH C. It’s so frustrating that people keep mixing us up.
HANNAH P. And not just the other women! The men keep mixing us up. But we don’t even sound the same. Hannah C. is from Jersey!
HANNAH S. I don’t know why the women can’t tell us apart when we all look so different. Yes, we are all blonde, but we’re not even the same type of blonde. I’m dirty blonde, Hannah C. is honey blonde, and Hannah P. is butter blonde.
HANNAH P. Exactlyyyyy.
[They all nod in sync.]
HANNAH C. It should be easy to remember. I’m the engineer.
HANNAH P. I’m the surveyor.
HANNAH S. And I’m the professional wrestler.
ALL TOGETHER We’re unique!