9. Called Out
Gia turnedthe card over to reveal the question printed in Carla’s messy handwriting. Practically illegible to anyone else, Gia had learned to read her friend’s chicken scratch over time thanks to countless notes left in her mailbox, on her door, gate, fence, and so on throughout the years. It was just one of many forms of communication the two had developed over the course of their friendship.
Gia slowly read the words on the card, rolling her eyes as her brain processed them before her mouth could say them out loud:
“What features does your ideal specimen of the opposite sex possess—physical and character traits?”
Carla couldn’t help but chuckle at her own question. The card was obviously intended for Gia. If Matt had chosen it, he would have said, “Carla, my love, you are the ideal female specimen!” And, true or untrue, it’d be the best answer he could spout. Gia, however, still had a lot to reveal in this area—and the success of Project Gia depended on it.
While Carla and Matt had completed the bulk of her dating profile on Only Gardeners, it was lacking in several areas—and Carla was going to get all those prompts completed tonight or die trying! She also had a few other items on her agenda: one involving a little digging regarding a certain boy named Ben. A blast from the past, perhaps.
“This is a stupid question,” Gia began. “You already know what I look for in men. And why do you even care?”
“No, Gia. I know what you wind up settling for in men. And I know the red flags you chase like a bull in a damn bull ring. But what are you actually looking for? What would make you happy?”
“How is this relevant to the game?” Gia asked, her eyebrows raising.
“It’s Twenty Questions. It doesn’t have to be relevant to anything. That’s your question. Answer it or pick your poison.” Carla gestured to the bag of booze with a grin, trying to shift the mood to more joyful debauchery.
Resigning herself to the fate of answering the question, Gia gulped a sip of her beer. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable putting the information into the universe… maybe she could even manifest some happiness by doing so. However, she’d been throwing the question around in her mind for months and still hadn’t come up with a very solid list. What was she looking for?
“I guess… unmarried,” she said with a slight huff, “emotionally available, tall, strong but not a total gym rat, some level of intelligence, a genuine smile, kind eyes, the ability to show affection, honesty, loyalty, a good communicator, someone with similar interests and world view, a desire for self-improvement… I don’t know.” Gia sighed. “I guess, over and above all, I just want someone who treats me like I matter.”
Gia took a deep breath. She hadn’t said those words aloud—or even admitted to them in her own mind—but she always knew it deep down. She just wanted someone to make her feel like her existence was worth more than just—being alive. Someone who felt like home. She didn’t know how else to describe it. Comfort, love, companionship, shared passions. Something unique and hard to find, with a person who could trigger a feeling she’d caught a brief glimpse of once many years ago.
Unfortunately, mistakes were made on both sides, and it didn’t last. It ended before it had barely even had a chance to begin. It was odd that Carla had brought up Ben earlier—no one else had ever known about that, whatever that even was.
“That’s all I can think of,” Gia finished, a tinge of sadness in her voice as the memories of Ben resurfaced, crossing her mind and leaving footprints in their wake. Carla noted the sudden shadow falling over their gathering and quickly changed the subject.
“Okay, great! Good answer. Five stars! You don’t have to drink. Now, who is next, me or Matt?” Carla asked, vowing to commit at least part of Gia’s answer to memory for the dating profile but curious about why her emotions seemed to take such a sudden turn.
“My turn. I want to answer one of Gia’s questions.” Matt grinned. Gia chuckled, thinking about the pile of cards in front of her. She shook off the emotional burden of the nostalgia for Ben, what they had, and what could have been. She wanted to escape and head home to process the thoughts that Carla had triggered about what she was looking for—and Ben. It also started her wondering about why Carla had brought Ben up so randomly in the first place. It was a little weird.
As Gia’s thoughts began to run away, Matt interrupted the rush by pulling a card from her pile. “Okay, here we go!” he said, his eyes rolling as he began to read the words on the card. “Really, Gia? Really? This isn’t a corporate retreat icebreaker. It’s a drinking game between friends!”
Gia cracked a grin, thinking of her questions. “Which one is it? Read it aloud.”
Matt’s eyes shifted downward again, returning to the card. “If you could be any vegetable, which would you choose and why?”
Upon hearing the question, Carla guffawed, sending beer spewing out of her mouth and across the table toward Gia. “Ew! Carla!” she whined. “That’s so gross.”
“I’m sorry,” Carla began, “but you wrote the question! That is such a ridiculous question.” She glanced over at Matt, who appeared to be lost in thought and taking it seriously.
“A potato,” he declared with conviction.
“What?” Carla asked.
“I’d be a potato.”
The girls giggled. “Okay, it’s a two-part question, though. Why, Matthew?” Gia chuckled. “Why would you be a potato?”
“Well… we all know I’m lazy as fuck, right? So, I’d be a couch potato.” A groan passed from Carla to Gia. “What?” Matt asked. “It’s a pretty damn good answer to a stupid question,” he defended.
“Okay, okay. I’ll allow it,” Gia said, laughing. “Carla’s turn!”
Carla glanced at the papers strewn across the table. “Okay, here goes!” Carla said, pulling a paper from Matt’s pile and reading it aloud.
“Oooh! Interesting, Matt… If you could ask anyone at this table any question of your choosing, what would it be?” A thoughtful expression crossed Carla’s face before she opened her mouth to speak again.
“I would ask Gia about her history with a certain tree-hugging, planet-saving boy named Benjamin.”
Carla glanced over at Matt, aware that his intent behind the question was to further the goals for Project Gia by shifting the conversation to a desired topic. He did not, however, expect Carla’s question to be quite so direct.
Gia’s fingers released their grip on her beer in surprise as the words left Carla’s mouth, dropping the drink to the floor where, luckily, it didn’t shatter. It did spill all over her feet, though.
“Oh, oops. I, uh, what? What are you talking about?” Gia asked Carla, her face pale as a ghost.
“Gia… Tell me what was up with you and Ben,” Carla said. “I thought we told each other everything.”
“We did. We do. It’s just… it was a long time ago, and it’s nothing now. It was nothing then.”
“What is nothing? What happened between you two?”
“It’s really not anything. I have to go. My feet…” Gia stammered, gesturing to her beer-soaked feet as he rose from her chair. “Uh, raincheck on the rest of the game,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way as quickly as possible toward her escape route—the loose board in the fence.
When she was out of view, Carla glanced at Matt. He wasn’t smiling.
“What?!” she demanded.
“You know what! That was uncalled for—and far too direct! You knew that wouldn’t go well.”
“Well, I admit, it didn’t go quite as I had hoped.” Carla sighed, grabbing one of the tiny liquor bottles from the bag, unscrewing the top, and chugging it before dropping the empty bottle on the table.
She sputtered. “Ew! What was that?” she asked, with a look of horror on her face. Matt reached down and picked the bottle up, holding it in front of his face and grinning as he replied, “Peppermint Schnapps.”
“Oh, gross. It tastes like sugar and mouthwash.” Carla hated most mint-flavored food and drink. It was typical that she had pulled that particular bottle from such a large stash of alcohol.
“Karma,” muttered Matt.