chapter eight One Long Catastrophe of Cringe Humour #3
Lex taps her chopstick against her lips. “Only issue is, if you’re going on a date with someone you’re excited to see, that
could alter the trajectory of the date and affect its awkwardness.”
I’d never have thought of that. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
She thinks for another moment. “We can’t quite do a double-blind study, not without bringing in another member of our team.
For our purposes maybe it’s best I set up the dates and surprise you.”
“Are you sure? That sounds like a lot of work.”
“It will probably be easier if I do it myself. Plus, I need to coordinate the dates with when I don’t have Gabe. We can probably
knock out one or two dates a week when he’s at his dad’s.”
“One or two a week?” The thought of going on so many dates and facing so much awkwardness makes my stomach clench.
“Don’t worry.” She smiles. “I’ll be there with you the whole time.”
I’m stunned she’d put that much time and effort into breaking my curse.
From swiping on the app, to setting up dates, to tagging along on all of them .
. . it’s too much. “Lex, I can’t make you do that.
As enticing as it is to prove you wrong about the curse, I can’t suck up that much of your time. ”
Lex takes a moment to chew her food and swallow. “It’s not all for you. My job is draining the life out of me, and it would
be good to use my skills to help a real person rather than some big corporation. Besides, getting out of the house when I
don’t have Gabe will be good for me. I can’t just read spicy fairy books in pubs every night. And . . .” She takes a slow
breath, then cautiously meets my gaze. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date. If I’m being honest, the prospect
scares me. Maybe going with you on dates will give me the courage to do the same.”
My heart warms from knowing that she’ll be getting just as much out of this as I am. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
“Okay,” Lex says with a nod. “Onto rules.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Rules?”
“Yes. Well, not rules plural—there’s mainly one rule everything can be consolidated into.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t put yourself in danger.”
I lean back in my chair and nod, ready to be scolded, again.
“Stay where I can see you. Don’t go home with anyone. Don’t get into anyone’s car. Don’t drink too much. If you get a bad
vibe, get the fuck out, don’t be polite. Don’t worry about hurting his feelings.” Lex taps her chopsticks on the table for
emphasis with each point.
“Yes, Mom.” I smile through an exaggerated eye roll.
“And I’ll be there the whole time, so if you need assistance extricating yourself from a bad situation just let me know.”
“Let you know, like, with a secret hand signal?” I lean forward, stroking my chin. “How about a bird call? Should I scream my safe word? It’s ‘porcupine,’ by the way.”
It’s Lex’s turn to roll her eyes, though she can’t quite stop her dimples from emerging. Thinking I won this round, I lift
my club soda to my lips.
“Or,” Lex adds, “you could do Morse code SOS via tit flashing.”
Soda sprays out my nose as I laugh. I grab some napkins to wipe the soda and spittle from Lex’s shirt, then our table, and
the dribble down my chin as we both giggle. Did she seriously just say that?
“Tit flashing Morse code. That’s a good one,” I say, catching my breath. Lex seems so serious, I’m shocked her sense of humour
goes to such strange places.
“Next thing to do is download a dating app,” Lex says, opening her phone once we’re all cleaned up. “Since I’ll be booking
your dates, are you okay with me having the app on my phone?”
“Sure.” Better she have it so I’m not obsessing over it constantly. “But what if they want to chat and I’m not there?”
“To reduce variance, we’ll keep chatting to a minimum. I’ll just message them and say something like, ‘I prefer getting to
know people in person. Can we meet up?’”
“Genius.”
Lex slides closer, then points at her phone. “I’ve heard good things about this one.”
I shrug. “Whichever one you like. It won’t make a difference.” The curse will not be limited by any manmade technology.
“Now for your profile. First things first—” Lex raises her phone and snaps a picture.
“Hey! I wasn’t ready!” I swipe at the phone, but she holds it away.
“You look great.”
“This could be my future husband’s first impression of me, I need to workshop this picture and maybe call in a professional,” I say, only half joking.
Lex rolls her eyes, but relents, passing it over. I look down at the phone and do a double take. There, on the screen, is
possibly one of the best photos of me I’ve ever seen. The light glimmers on my hair, my smile is relaxed and natural, and
the way I’m looking just off camera, at Lex . . . it makes my chest ache.
“That’s a pretty fucking good picture,” I admit.
“See?” Lex smiles, her dimples making a rare appearance. “You’re beautiful.”
Warmth floods my cheeks at Lex’s complete sincerity. One compliment from her feels like a thousand from anyone else. Now I
just have to find someone who can back compliments like Lex’s with real romance. And who knows? Maybe we’ll have this curse
figured out in no time.