Chapter 3
Three
Maria
Not long after Darius and Chase bullied me about my dating life, we had an influx of customers that kept the two of us busy for the rest of the shift.
I had hoped that meant that Darius would move on and forget about his wanting to help me find a date thing, but unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking.
The second we got home, he started in on it all over again, and while I still have no idea why he’s so invested in this particular aspect of my life, I know him well enough to know that he’s not just going to drop it.
Once he’s set his mind on something, there’s no deterring him.
So, I’m sitting in the corner of our navy couch, which we got second-hand from a thrift shop two days after we moved in, with my phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
Per Darius’ instructions, I’m going through my friends list again, and I’m doing so solely to appease this annoying man who calls himself my best friend.
I’m surprised at how long it’s taking me to get through it, but I haven’t done a purge of the list since college, so it makes sense.
If nothing else, at least I’m getting the chance to do so now, because I don’t remember half of these people, and I have to keep visiting their profiles to see if that helps jog my memory as to how we met.
I have already unfriended a lot of them, but all of these extra steps are making this take longer.
The only thing helping me get through it is the wine that Darius and I are drinking. We are already on our second bottle, and I have, thankfully, moved past tipsy and am now more than a little inebriated.
“This is so stupid,” I grumble to myself, despite knowing he can hear me.
I wish I knew why I am even still entertaining this.
I may have admitted to wanting a boyfriend, or even just a date, but I don’t see how scrolling through a list of people I don’t know or remember is going to help with that.
Am I supposed to start chatting with one of them at random to see if something sparks between us?
Am I supposed to judge whether we are going to be a good match based solely on what they put on their profiles? There are things even I don’t post!
Social media is not the way to learn who someone is.
“Does that mean that you are ready to admit that I’m right?” Darius asks pointedly from where he’s sitting in the recliner, only about two feet away from me. “Are you ready to say that your weight isn’t the reason you are single and your pickiness is?”
After sticking my tongue out at him, I take another long sip of red wine so that I don’t have to respond.
It’s not the most mature thing to do, but I hate it when he taunts me like this.
Besides, he’s wrong. Just because I’m not open to the idea of going out with some random man I know nothing about doesn’t mean I’m picky.
Every experience I’ve had with dating or with men in general has gone poorly solely because of my weight, so there’s no doubt in my mind that that’s what the problem is.
There’s nothing anyone can say that’s going to convince me otherwise, either.
Now, if only I could get Darius to see that, too, so that we can stop all this.
“What’s the ultimate goal here, Darius?” I ask, hoping to get a better idea of what he’s trying to accomplish. “What’s it going to take for you to back off and butt out of my dating life?”
He laughs, but doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’ll stop when your status says ‘in a relationship.’ How about that?”
“Why?” I grind out through clenched teeth.
“Because when your social media says you are in a relationship, that’s when it becomes official.”
Annoyed, I roll my eyes. “No, you idiot. I mean, why are you pushing this so hard? Why do you care what my relationship status is?”
Only then does he look at me, and the expression on his face says I should already know the answer to that. “Because you are my best friend. And I want you to be happy.”
Color involuntarily flushes my cheeks, which has nothing to do with the alcohol I’ve consumed. “I appreciate that, Darius—I do—and you know I love you for it. But I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”
“I know,” he replies, lifting one shoulder. “But it helps, and it gets you laid.”
I laugh softly.
With a devilish grin, Darius continues. “I also get the pleasure of watching you squirm, so there’s that too.”
Grabbing one of the throw pillows from behind my back, I chuck it at him. “You ass!”
Much to my dismay, he catches the pillow and places it in his lap, using it to rest his arms on as he goes back to scrolling through his phone. I, however, have no desire to continue with this stupid task, and I start racking my brain to try and find myself a way out of it.
For several moments, though, I’m at a loss because it’s like an unspoken rule that when someone’s social media status changes to ‘in a relationship,’ it means things are serious.
So, if that’s really what Darius is waiting for, even if I do manage to convince someone to take me out, which, let’s be honest, isn’t likely if I am doing it this way, it still won’t be enough to get Darius off my back.
This knowledge hits my stomach like a falling brick, and I have to swallow around a lump rapidly growing in my throat.
However, after this brief moment of despair, something suddenly clicks inside my head, and an idea hits me so fast that it makes me blink in surprise.
It’s so simple and obvious, and I want to smack myself for not thinking of it sooner.
I blame the wine; it made this situation far more complicated than it needed to be.
He said that he would back off if my relationship status changed, right?
Fine. Easy. All I have to do is pick someone from my friends’ list and change my status to say that I’m in a relationship with them.
Then I can show that to Darius, make him back off, and then change my status back in the morning.
That way, the guy I choose will be none the wiser.
A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I quickly go back to my phone and start the extremely complex process of choosing my new ‘boyfriend’.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” I sing silently in my head. “Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers, let him go. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.”
On the final word, I press my finger against the screen, clicking on the profile, and then I take another sip of my wine while I wait for it to load.
Thankfully, I landed on a guy, because I’m not into women, and I am fairly certain Darius knows that.
Granted, there was that one time back in college, but that doesn’t count and is beside the point.
Anyway, the name of my new, temporary boyfriend is Mark.
There are two men in his main profile picture, and I have no idea which one he is.
They are both extremely tall and muscled as they pose in front of a large mirror at a gym.
One of them is flexing his massive biceps, while the other is simply smiling.
Because that picture doesn’t tell me anything, I click on the ‘photos’ tab and start scrolling so that I can find a picture of him alone.
The moment I do, all the air leaves my lungs in one massive breath because I have to admit, the Fates have smiled upon me this day.
Turns out, Mark is the one who is just smiling at the camera.
He’s unnaturally attractive with his brown eyes and light, tousled hair, too, and he’s got the kind of square jaw that any girl would go to great lengths just to run her tongue along, myself included.
He’s shirtless in this solo photo, standing on some beach that has the bluest water I have ever seen, and his perfectly sculpted chest and abs make my mouth water, along with that deep ‘V’ that disappears into the top of his black swim trunks.
I bite my lip as a whole slew of dirty thoughts enter my alcohol addled mind.
He is so far out of my league that I’m not even sure we are playing the same game anymore, but thanks to my perfectly crafted plan, I am not going to have to embarrass myself by actually talking to him.
Darius’ only stipulation was that my relationship status stated I was in a relationship.
So, with a triumphant grin, I click back to Mark’s main profile page and press the little button under his name that says ‘in a relationship’. Mission accomplished.
Darius’ phone suddenly chimes with a notification, while at the same time, I’m taken back to my own profile page, which now states that I am in a relationship with Mark.
Because I’ve never been in a relationship long enough to consider changing my status, the sight of it feels weird.
It’s also at this moment that the reality of what I just did hits me like a freight train, and my stomach sinks.
What the hell did I just do?
“Uh, Maria,” Darius asks, suddenly sitting up in his seat. The shock and confusion in his voice make my body tense, and I have to force myself to relax.
Even though I am now questioning my own sanity, an innocent smile spreads across my face as I look up at my friend.
“Why did I just get a notification that you are in a relationship with some guy named Mark?”
“Because I am now in a relationship with Mark.” When he continues to stare at me, clearly expecting more of an answer, my shrug is nonchalant. However, my stomach continues to twist into knots. “You said that you’d stop when my relationship status changed. Now it has.”
He blinks. “You are aware that this isn’t what I meant, right?”
“I know,” I retort. “But it is what you said.”
He laughs, shaking his head, and I can’t tell if he’s impressed by what I’ve done or considering checking me into a mental facility.
“Alright, you got me there. But… you know that he can see this, too, right? He was notified the moment you hit that little button that says you are in a relationship.”