chapter twelve But Wait, There’s More
chapter twelve
But Wait, There’s More
“Alright, I think we have enough,” Lex states while looking at her notes from the other side of the booth one week later.
We’re curled up in the corner of a trendy downtown patio with string lights overhead, bushels of green plants strategically
placed to give the illusion of privacy, and a guitarist in the corner strumming covers of Coldplay.
“Thank fuck,” I say, throwing my hands in the air.
“I’d like to gather more data,” she says, tapping a pen against her bottom lip, “but I’m running out of decent guys to match
with.”
“What!”
“I’m getting better at finding red flags. The risk is too high,” she explains.
“No more unicorn emojis?” I smile into my drink.
Lex rolls her eyes, failing to hide her dimples. “No more unicorn emojis. Speaking of which, has your mom reached out to you
since?”
I set my drink down and slump in my chair, my good mood draining out of me. “No. She hasn’t. Not that I’m surprised. I should probably call her again—or text her, as she requested. Get together for lunch or something.”
Lex thinks for a long moment. “You know . . . just because she’s your mom doesn’t mean you have to force a relationship with
her.”
“I’m her only family. I should put in some effort, shouldn’t I?”
“I think it’s her job as your parent to put the effort in for you,” Lex says, choosing her words carefully. “If she’s not
willing to do that, then I don’t think you should waste your time feeling guilty for not putting energy into a one-sided relationship.”
I weigh her words, a tug-of-war fighting inside me. One side thinks that if I work harder at having a relationship with my
mom that things will change. They’ll be different. That the past isn’t indicative of the future. The other side of me, the
side that remembers my childhood of never feeling good enough, of searching for validation that never came, of being constantly
alone . . .
I give myself a shake. Force myself to smile. Now’s not the time to harp on it. “You’re right. I have more important people
in my life that I don’t need to beg to spend time with me.”
Lex hoists her glass toward me, smile shining. “You definitely do.”
We clink glasses, and gratitude swells in my chest for how lucky I am to have found a friend like Lex.
“Okay,” Lex says, setting her glass down and opening her notebook. “We haven’t had a chance to recap the last few dates. You
ready to get into it?”
I clap my hands. “Born ready!”
“Let’s start with our last date.”
“Fancy Car Guy.”
She nods. “In my opinion, we got a little too close to another hospital visit.”
“True.”
“And—” she raises an eyebrow and fits me with a glare “—you broke your promise about not putting yourself in danger.”
“Hey now,” I say, poking her in the arm. “The dude’s car fucked up and locked us in! I had nothing to do with that.”
“Pretty sure you deliberately disobeyed the one rule we agreed to.”
“What you witnessed,” I clarify, “was the curse taking its full effect.”
She gives her head an amused shake. “If you say so.”
“Okay, who was before that? I can’t remember, all the dates are blurring together.”
Lex looks at her notes. “Momma’s Boy.”
“You mean the guy who swiped right because my name was the same as his mom’s and he was turned on by it?”
She chuckles. “Yes, that one.”
I think for a moment. “Attraction, four. Compatibility, three. Awkward, five.”
She jots it down. “Okay. What about the guy who clearly fetishized natural blondes and was super disappointed to find out
you dyed your hair?”
“Oof. I’d say, four, two, and one.”
“And the guy who thought you were an escort and tried to pay you fifty bucks for a hand job?”
I grin. “You mean the one where you came up and said you were an off-duty cop and he was under arrest? And he ran away so
fast he tripped on his own feet and knocked over a tray of drinks?”
Lex chuckles. “That was too good.”
I rub at my cheeks, which are sore from smiling. “Okay, that guy’s rating would be like, a two? Maybe? Twos across the board.”
“Alright, that catches us up.”
“What’s next, my skeptical little genius?”
Lex opens her mouth to speak, pauses to fit me with a look, and then flips to a new page. “We have lots of data on the curse
as it works today, but I don’t know much about what went on in the past.”
I crinkle my nose, knowing exactly what she’s going to ask.
“I need your full dating history.”
“Do we really have to?” I’m not sure if I have enough bandwidth for all that today. Or ever.
Lex shrugs. “It can’t be as bad as what I’ve already seen.”
“Yeah, but there’s a lot more awkward sex stories.”
Her eyes widen and mouth twists into a grin. “Really? Should we order another drink?”
I chuckle, then sigh. “Fine. Twist my arm.”
We flag down the server and each order a new drink, then settle in for some juicy gossip.
“Do you really want to hear all of it?” I ask.
She nods. “Every last awkward detail.”
“Alright. You asked for it.” I think for a moment. “I already told you about a few when we were in the hospital, do you remember
those?”
Lex grimaces. “How could I ever forget the bowling trophy?”
“That’s a classic.” I nod. Then, after thinking for a moment, I raise a finger to begin counting. “There was the time a guy
wanted me to meow like a cat during and I jokingly woofed at him. He asked me to leave.”
Lex gives her head a shake, then jots it down. “Okay.”
I raise another finger. “The time I accidentally lit a dude’s pubes on fire with a candle. And then I aggressively put it
out with my hands.”
Lex’s dimples quirk at that one. She adds it to her list.
“Ooh! Once after having sex with a guy we went down to the kitchen for a snack and his dad was there, and I recognized his dad because we’d been on a date before, and the dad was married and he and his son got into a big fight. Like, a breaking-and-throwing-shit fight. I had to let myself out.”
“Geez, that sucks. Wait, which date was the dad?” Lex asks, pausing her note-taking.
“He was the pacemaker guy.”
Lex lifts her pen in the air. “Ah, of course.” She scribbles a few more notes. “Anything else?”
I tap my fingers on the table. “That’s the worst of it, I think . . . Wait. There was this guy who wanted me to lick his butthole
on the first date. I said no, and he got mad at me, saying I should since he bought me dinner. As if buying someone dinner
means you have to lick their butthole!”
Just as I say this our server approaches with our drinks, her eyes wide in shock. Her face turns several shades of pink as
she clears her throat. “Can I get you two anything else?”
“No, thanks,” I say as I take my drink. “Just the bill, when you have a second. On me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Lex says, a scolding tone to her voice.
“Maybe I just want you to lick my butthole later.” I give her a wink.
The server turns and walks away as fast as she can.
Lex laughs, then gives her head a shake. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Nope.” I lick the rim of my margarita suggestively.
“Honestly, though,” she says, getting us back on track, “the entitlement of some people.”
“Right? Like you can ‘earn’ sexual favours by doing something stupid like buying someone dinner, or jewellery, or a bag.”
“Even more than it being stupid, it’s dangerous,” Lex adds. “People who feel entitled to something are more likely to take
it by any means necessary.”
I nod. “You’re totally right. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
“Dating is the most dangerous thing a woman can do.”
“Especially for me.”
“True.” Lex doesn’t even try to argue, and it gives me hope that she’s starting to accept I truly am cursed. I can practically
taste the words you were right.
I give her an exaggerated nod. “Which is why I had been avoiding dating. Quick hookups are my thing. Get in, get out, move
on.”
Lex eyes her notebook, tapping the pen. “Wait. One thing is missing here.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“What about . . . your first time?” Lex broaches the subject cautiously.
My face gets so hot it stings. “Do you really need that? It was so long ago. How can it be relevant?”
“How could it possibly not be relevant?”
My stomach twists. Everything she’s seen so far has been child’s play compared to that first time.
“Hey,” she says, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I promise I won’t judge. But if you don’t want to talk about
it now, or ever, that’s okay, too.”
I look into Lex’s eyes, which have softened from their usual piercing state to hold space for me. I know that if I said I
didn’t want to talk about it she’d accept that, and probably never bring it up again. I’ve kept this story so close to my
chest, burying it in hopes that the pain of that moment would just disappear . . . but it hasn’t. If there’s anyone in the
world who I know I can share it with, who won’t judge or laugh or criticize, it’s Lex. I’ve trusted her with more of myself
than I ever have with anyone else. I know I can trust her with this, too.
At least, part of it.
“It was high school. Senior year. I’d gone to the grad party with the coolest guy in school.
He’d never really paid much attention to me until close to graduation.
But he needed a date, I was more than available, and at that time in my life I coveted being cool and popular so much I’d have done basically anything to climb the social ladder and feel like I belonged. ”
Thinking about it now, it probably had to do with how lonely I was with my mom gone, partying all the time. I no longer had
validation from her, so I was seeking it elsewhere.
“I felt so cool with him on the dance floor,” I continue. “During the slow songs he had his hands on my waist, and he twirled
me around like a princess, and I thought I’d made it. All the other girls were so jealous. I finally felt like I belonged . . .”
Lex squeezes my hand. I give her a small smile before continuing. “Afterwards, I joined him and his friends at a house party,
the kind I’d always wanted to be invited to but never was. I was anxious and uncomfortable so I drank quite a bit, and I wasn’t