Chapter 9 How to Ignore All Good Advice A Masterclass #2
“By potentially meeting up with an internet stranger?”
“Some people deal with their issues through retail therapy. I deal with mine through allowing myself to be catfished. Don’t yuck my yum.”
“No yums were harmed in the making of this conversation.”
“At least two were harmed.”
“One or nothing.”
I nod like that’s reasonable.
“Can’t you video call him first?” Izzy asks. “Maybe Cal can even record him, and that way we can—”
I hold up a hand to stop her before she goes even further down the conspiracy-theory-YouTube-channel-meets-FBI-sting-operation rabbit hole.
“Absolutely not. I am not involving your somewhat judgmental husband in what is already an emotionally unhinged, mildly embarrassing situation.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off again.
“Look, people go on dates with internet strangers all the time. That’s literally how dating works now.”
“Yeah, and only a small percentage of them turn up murdered,” Izzy says dryly.
“Exactly! Small percentage. I like those odds.”
“That is not the reassuring statistic you think it is.”
“I know, I know. Everything you’re saying is logical, smart, emotionally healthy. Like, seriously, ten out of ten on the adulting scale. Gold star. Hang it on the fridge. But at the end of the day, I just really want to meet him.”
The admission comes out quieter than I intended, and suddenly the air in the room feels heavier.
Because wanting something—really wanting it—is dangerous territory for me.
Because having things means they can be taken away.
Having things means disappointment. Getting what you want means opening yourself up to hurt that follows you around for years, especially after you marry a guy you just met during a crazy EDC birthday weekend in Vegas and fall madly in love with him, only to have him disappear on you with nothing but scars and a blood-soaked wedding ring as the only proof that he actually existed.
Real has consequences.
Izzy’s expression softens in that way that makes me feel seen and also slightly nauseous.
For a second, neither of us says anything.
The silence is filled with what I’m not saying about why this matters so much, why the idea of someone real choosing to stay feels like it’s worth risking everything for.
Then Izzy sighs, tilting her head with that gentle expression that means she’s about to ask me something I probably don’t want to answer. “And if he shows up? What then?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, thinking about it. “Then I guess I’ll find out if being real is worth the risk of getting hurt again.”
The thought should terrify me. After Kade, after learning that love can vanish in an instant, I should be running. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe real things are supposed to hurt sometimes. Maybe that’s how you know they matter.
Izzy sighs again, already pulling out her phone. “Okay, well, if you’re actually going to do this insane thing, we’re setting up rules.”
I groan. “Rules? What are we, twelve?”
“Yes, rules. As in, you share your location, we have hourly check-ins, and we set up a silent alarm system.”
I tilt my head. “A what now?”
“It’s a coded phrase you text someone so that to a potential kidnapper, it seems normal, but I’ll know to call the cops immediately.”
I narrow my eyes. “This sounds suspiciously like something you and Cal actually use on a regular basis.”
“That’s because we do.”
I point at her accusingly. “See? I am not the most unhinged person in this friendship.”
“That is still very much debatable.”
I lean back in my chair, tapping my nails against my coffee cup. “So if I texted you something completely out of character, you’d just… know I was being murdered?”
“Exactly. Like if you suddenly told me you thought minimalism was a valid lifestyle choice. Or that you were entering your ballet flats era.”
I gasp. “You would call 911 immediately.”
“Without hesitation.”
I smirk. “Wow. You really do know me.”
She sighs again, rubbing her temples like I’ve already given her a stress headache. “Amanda, I mean it. If you’re actually going to do this, you’re doing it safely. No exceptions.”
I press my lips together, suddenly feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. The part of me that wants this but also knows I have no business wanting it. The part of me that’s been running on autopilot for years and now is waking up again. It’s terrifying.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay.”
Izzy narrows her eyes. “Okay like you’re actually listening, or okay like you’re going to ignore everything I just said the second you get a flirty text?”
I grin. “Yes.”
“Amanda.”
“I will be so safe. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Scout.”
“I could have been a Scout.”
“You definitely could not have been a Scout.”
“You’re going to kill me before Chad even gets the chance,” I mutter.
“See? You’re already thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. Maybe that’s your answer right there.”
I smirk. “You know, I feel like you’re basically giving me the green light.”
Izzy gives me the most deadpan look imaginable. “That’s what you took from what I just said?”
“I mean… yes?”
She sighs heavily. “For the record, I am absolutely not giving you the green light. But I am also your best friend, and I know that you’re going to do whatever chaotic thing you want regardless of what I say.
So I’m just here to support you through this deeply problematic journey of self-discovery and hopefully keep you alive in the process. ”
My heart does that annoying squeeze that happens when people are nice to me. “Aww,” I coo, clasping my hands together. “I love you so much.”
Izzy rolls her eyes, but I catch the way her lips twitch. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all soft on me now.”
I bat my lashes dramatically. “Too late. You love me. Say it back.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Say it.”
“Amanda.”
“Isabella.”
She groans like I’m torturing her. “Fine. I love you.”
I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest. “You’re obsessed with me.”
“I’m questioning my own advice.”
“You can’t take it back. We’re best friends for life. Blood oath. Forever and always.”
Izzy just shakes her head, sighing dramatically. “Anyway, Cal’s working late tonight, so if you want, we can hang out and you can tell me more about this latest crisis.”
I brighten instantly, because hanging out with Izzy sounds infinitely better than going home and staring at my phone, willing it to spontaneously develop consciousness. “Yes! We can invite Raven, and she can share some more of her advice!”
Izzy’s eyes narrow like she already knows she’s going to regret asking. “What kind of advice did Raven give you?”
I smirk. “The kind that would probably get us both arrested.”
“Oh boy.”