Chapter 2
‘What a dick,’ Karina says.
‘Believe me, he was worse. I’m only telling you what he said. You didn’t see the nastiness on his face as he said it.’
‘I’m sorry. Some men shouldn’t be allowed to talk to women.
There should be a test anyone online dating has to take before they’re allowed to actually meet people in real life to see how they behave, and if they fail they have to spend their Friday nights sitting at home watching TV with their mum and reflecting on their life choices. ’
‘I wish there was a test. It would have saved me a lot of upset,’ I tell her.
‘Oh, babe. Let me get you another drink. Do you want some popcorn, too? Some squirty cream?’
‘Yes, please. Bring what you can.’
I lie further back into Karina’s large, overstuffed sofa.
If there’s anywhere to go to get over the upset of the night before, it’s Karina’s flat.
With the soothing green palette and pale wood giving it a Nordic vibe, it’s one of my favourite places to be, and it helps that Karina is an excellent host too.
She returns a few minutes later with our supplies and puts them on the coffee table before curling up next to me and pulling a fluffy blanket over us.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind cancelling your date with Ben?’ I ask.
Karina is meant to be meeting her boyfriend in a few hours for what is sure to be a very swanky, very romantic date, but with her black hair piled up on her head and in a fluffy jumper and leggings, she doesn’t look like she’s too devastated to be staying in with me instead.
‘No. It’s fine. I can’t be bothered going out tonight, and besides …’ She pauses, a small smile appearing at what we both know is coming.
‘You are joking, right? Not Ben, not lovely, fit, can’t-get-enough-of-you Ben? What could Ben possibly have done?’
While it might be my fate to only attract knobheads while online dating, Karina’s fate is to only attract wonderful, handsome men, who immediately fall for her and spend all their time trying to impress her.
But, in a cruel twist, Karina gets the ick so easily, she’s never been able to date any of these amazing men for more than a few weeks before finding something that turns her off for good.
‘You know how he surprised me with dinner the other night at that new seafood restaurant in Spinningfields I’d been going on about?’
‘The meal you sent me a thousand pictures of and said was amazing?’
‘Yeah, and it was. Mostly. There was champagne waiting for us at the table, and it was a really great table, by the way. Ben was wearing this beautiful grey suit and getting looks from everyone, like they were trying to work out if he was famous or not. But as soon as he sat down, he told me he had the most hideous cold.’
‘Karina, you cannot break up with someone because they have a cold.’
‘No, course not,’ she says. ‘But I can break up with a grown man who twitches his nose like a bunny rabbit every two minutes to stop himself sneezing. It was disturbing! At first, I tried to ignore it, but the more I didn’t say anything, the more pronounced it got.
I swear the people on the tables around us were looking at him and wondering what the fuck he was doing.
I had to rush through my teriyaki salmon to get away.
Also, you’ve got to admit, nobody wants a serving of germs with their starter.
If I was sick, I’d have apologised and rain-checked.
I’m literally waiting for the lurgy to kick in, Lizzie. ’
The look on her face is so despairing that I burst out laughing. ‘Poor, poor Karina. You’re not going to end it with him because of that, though, are you?’
‘I’m not sure yet, but I think it’s best for the both of us if I don’t see him tonight and have some time to get over it.’
I laugh again and hand her the cream. ‘Yeah, you stay here with me and recover from your ordeal.’
‘So what are you in the mood for tonight?’ she asks once she’s swallowed several mouthfuls. ‘Crap TV and wine, or vodka and deciding what punishment we’d like to see befall Isaac?’
‘Definitely vodka.’
‘Good choice. Stay there, I’ll be right back.’
Twenty minutes and three shots later, the doorbell goes and Karina rushes to answer it. I hear Teddy saying, ‘Where is she?’ and the clinking of bottles in a bag as she walks in, which makes me smile. Terrible love life aside, at least I get to spend Saturday night with my two best friends.
Ever since we chose Classical Civilisation for A level in sixth form and realised we were the only three girls out of a teeny class of eleven, Karina, Teddy and I have been inseparable.
We got each other through a lot of perving from the boys and two years of Homer’s Iliad, and we’re still looking out for each other twelve years later.
My mum’s mantra for the last five years, ever since she colossally rocked my world by divorcing Dad, is that friendships are the greatest gifts in life, not men.
Mum and Dad, who ironically were friends for years before they fell in love, were careful to hide their decline from the happy marriage I remember during my childhood to them barely being able to share a space on the couch, but it was a decline steep enough to leave Mum on her own, and swearing off men for good.
She’s rebuilt a life jam-packed with old friends and new, and declared herself happier than ever, but she’s done with love.
My parents’ marriage might, as Karina and Teddy have pointed out on more than one occasion, be the reason I’m so adamant to only date strangers rather than anyone I’m remotely familiar with, know and like.
Teddy comes into the lounge and gives me a sad smile.
People always need a little longer to take in Teddy compared to others.
First there’s her curly blonde hair as thick and glossy as a John Freida model’s.
Then there’s her outfit. Never one to opt for understated, Teddy has combined three patterns above the glittery Doc Martens that finish off her look.
She’s the only person I know who can pull off leopard print, florals and snakeskin at the same time.
As she lingers at the door to the lounge, studying me, she looks incredible.
‘Don’t worry,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll have forgotten him by the end of the night.’
‘You will. We’ll make sure of it.’ Teddy winks as she raises the bottle in her hand. Sitting down next to me, she pulls me into a haze of hair and Miu Miu.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I assure her, pulling away and getting my breath back.
‘I know. I just can’t remember the last time you were with a guy and had a good time. It’s shit.’
‘Totally shit,’ Karina agrees, coming to sit next to me on my other side.
‘I can’t either,’ I say, though I know it’s a lie.
I remember exactly when it was. One year and two days ago.
Only it wasn’t a date, and I’m pretty sure that’s why it was so spectacular.
The shock of it. The fact it was never meant to happen and could never have become anything more.
I’ve tried hard to forget it ever since, but tucked away in the corner of my mind, hardly ever allowed to come out, is the thought that maybe that night was the reason my dating life after it has been such a disaster.
Sex before had been pleasant enough. Nice.
But that night I’d learned how much better than nice it could be.
I almost wish it hadn’t happened, because what good can come from discovering what’s possible but never finding it again?
I won’t admit it to Karina and Teddy because to them I’ve framed what happened as a drunken mistake, but I’d be a liar to not admit that my love life has been on a downward spiral ever since.
Maybe last night with Isaac was me hitting rock bottom and the next person will be that little bit better.
Maybe I’ll gradually start to work my way up until I finally meet another person who makes me feel like I did that night – only better because that person will be someone I can have a future with, not someone I should never have slept with in the first place.
One day, I’ll turn up to a date, get the romance, the great friendship and the amazing sex I’m after all in one, but after the men I’ve met recently it’s hard to keep believing that.
‘You know what I think you need?’ Teddy asks.
‘More vodka?’ I reply, holding up my empty glass.
‘Yes, but not just that. I think you need a break. A couple of months off from giving up your Friday nights to go to dive bars with crappy guys.’
‘I guess,’ I say without conviction.
‘No, I mean it. One day you’re going to meet someone who sees how funny and kind and adorably romantic you are, and they are going to love that about you, but you’re not finding that person online. You should do something for you instead of wasting your time.’
‘There are some decent men on those apps,’ Karina says, a duty-bound comment, given she met Ben on Tinder.
‘Easy for you to say. You have a lovely man wanting to take you out to fancy bars all the time and shower you with gifts. Before Ben, you had Marcus, who took you to Paris after what, four dates?’ I ask.
‘Three,’ Karina corrects me.
‘Exactly. You’ve got to admit it, Kar, you’re a magnet to nice men who actually want relationships. Most of my exes are idiots I never want to see again. You’ve left behind a trail of besotted, heartbroken, good men. You’re so lucky,’ I tell her.
‘Yep,’ Teddy agrees. ‘So lucky. And out of all the besotted men, Ben is by far the loveliest.’
‘Even if he does have a little bunny rabbit nose,’ I add. Teddy gives us both a curious look, which leads to Karina telling her about Ben’s fatal flaw. Four vodkas in, it takes on a new hilarity.
‘I seriously don’t know how you do it, Kar,’ Teddy says once we’ve stopped twitching our noses and laughing.
‘The last date I went on, the guy answered a phone call from his wife while his hand was on my thigh, about three centimetres away from my crotch, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and you get perfect Ben, whose worst attribute is catching a cold. If you don’t want him, you can always send him my way. ’
We’ve moved from vodka to prosecco and are sitting watching Love is Blind when Ben sends a text that puts the final nail in his and Karina’s dating coffin.
‘That’s it,’ she says, before a shudder takes over her whole body.
‘What?’ Teddy and I ask in unison.
Karina holds out her phone and shows us a selfie of Ben pulling a sad, pouty face, his huge puppy dog eyes dominating the screen above his bright red nose. He’s typed the words ‘Miss youuuuu’ in red over his forehead. We explode into a fit of laughter, knowing how Karina is going to take this.
‘I give up,’ Karina says. ‘We’re done. He’s all yours, Teddy.’
‘Awww, he’s adorable,’ I tell her in a child-like voice, enjoying winding her up way too much.
‘Bless him,’ Teddy agrees, her eyes shining with amusement. ‘So sweet.’
‘Stop it,’ Karina tells us. ‘Why did he have to ruin everything? Look at the state of his nose, Ted. I’m telling you I’ll be drinking Lemsip next weekend never mind prosecco.’ She holds out the phone and shudders again, which only makes Teddy and I laugh harder.
I can see why the picture would make Karina wince, and I’m sure that Ben will reflect on it and admit it wasn’t his finest hour, but I would never break up with someone who sent a picture like that to me.
That’s the thing about Karina – she’s always actively looking for the ick, ready to find the thing that can allow her to walk away before someone walks away from her first. Teddy and I both know it’s a defence mechanism after Rick, the first boy she loved, the boy she thought was perfect, who broke her heart by dumping her out of the blue two weeks before we were set to go to uni.
It makes me sad, though, to see her blowing up another potentially good relationship.
‘Can’t you give him a chance to redeem himself once he’s over his cold?’ I ask.
‘Absolutely not.’ The shudder that takes over her body is so forceful, it’s clear Ben’s toast.
‘Would you, though, Ted?’ I ask when we’re back to watching TV.
‘Hmmm?’
‘Now Ben is free, would you actually go out with him?’
‘Yeah, I’d love to,’ she says, deadpan.
‘Seriously?’ I say, my voice coming out in a higher pitch than I intended, but at least it gets hers and Karina’s attention.
‘Seriously would I date Karina’s ex? No, of course I wouldn’t.’
‘Fair enough,’ I agree, but her reaction isn’t enough to quash the fuzzy idea I’m starting to form. ‘Maybe Ben’s a bit too recent. What about another of her exes though? Would you date one of them?’
‘What? No. No way.’
‘Why not?’ I ask, genuinely interested in her answer. Karina and Teddy exchange a look.
‘There’s a rule about friends not dating each other’s exes for a reason, and that reason is because it’s a terrible idea,’ Teddy says.
‘What rule? I haven’t agreed to any rule,’ I say, wanting to keep my admittedly booze-fuelled train of thought going a little longer.
‘The rule is kind of implied, Lizzie,’ Teddy says. ‘It’s one of those things friends are meant to get on board with without discussion, like knowing not to buy the same outfits and automatically hating the same people.’
‘Maybe we should discuss it,’ I argue. ‘You’ve got all these amazing men you’ve been out with that you don’t want, Kar, and I reckon we could come up with a few not too awful exes ourselves, Teddy.
It’s just a waste, isn’t it, to automatically say these men are out of bounds?
I reckon I’d be happy for either of you to date one of my exes. ’
‘Great, I’ll really look forward to dating Isaac and being told to fuck off,’ Teddy says, before laughing.
‘Not Isaac. Obviously. Anyway, he was just a first date. I mean a proper ex-boyfriend, someone who was nice and perfectly normal, just not right for me. One of you might hit it off with him way more than I did.
‘We could do an ex-swap! If one of you were to set me up with a good ex of yours, there’s a chance I might end up going on a few decent dates for a change,’ I say, realising that I’m actually onto something here.
This could be a great way for me to get out of my run of bad dates, to stay off dating apps and to meet someone who goes someway to restoring my belief that nice men still exist. I look pleadingly from Teddy to Karina, hoping they’ll see the beauty of the idea.
At least they think about it. For all of five seconds.
‘Nah,’ Teddy says. ‘Too weird.’
‘Yeah,’ Karina agrees. ‘I might be single again, but there’s no way I could date one of your exes. It would be too awkward. The conversation, the flirting, the sex – especially the sex – knowing he’s done the same thing with one of you. Nope, sorry, Lizzie. Forget it.’