#DWTFIL

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 5: Obscure Painting and String Duets

         Zack somehow managed to recover from a night of drinking with ease. When I walked into The Wandering Traveler at one in the afternoon, he looked completely sober. If you hadn’t been there the night before, you’d never know he had the ability to put most alcoholics to shame.

         “How did you manage it?” I asked, a grin starting to spread across my face when he walked over to me. “You look like you’ve never had a drink in your life.”

         He shrugged, hurrying away to take care of some customers before returning less than a minute later. “The alcohol goes right through me. I went to bed nearly sober.”

         I shook my head, not believing my eyes. Most people I knew would’ve called in sick to work after a night like ours. But that wasn’t the reason I was here.

         “Hey, so I left my backpack here last night. Did you—”

        “See it? I sure did. Very responsible of you, by the way.” Heat rushed to my cheeks and he laughed. “It’s fine. I brought the bag home with me, where it still is. Don’t worry, I didn’t snoop,” he added when I raised an eyebrow.

         This was the first time I’d observed Zack in the daytime. Our two previous encounters took place after the sun had already set, when the city really roared to life with a younger crowd. Now, looking at him under the artificial lighting of the ancient pub, I had to admit he looked even better fully awake.

         My eyes flickered to the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar counter and I involuntarily flinched. Justin and I were supposed to meet at the school in less than fifteen minutes. He hadn’t told me what we were supposed to do, only that he wanted to show me something. I tried my best not to interpret that in an inappropriate way.

         “Do you think I could stop by your place to pick it up after your shift? Or you could even drop it off at my apartment. My roommate should be home all day.” I knew Tony wouldn’t confront Zack about letting me get that drunk, though he’d rant about it to me the second I returned home. Tony was irritating that way.

         Zack’s lips started to turn down in a frown, but he caught himself and stopped the full frown from forming. “Yeah, sure. I could stop by later this afternoon and leave it there. Wouldn’t want to ruin any plans you might have. Uh, could I, uh—do you think I could get your number? You know, so you can give me the address and everything.”

         I bit my lip to supress a teasing smile, nodding instead. He interrupted me when I started to reach for my phone, turning to look around the room for someone. It occurred to me he was still on duty.

         “Write it down on a piece of paper and I’ll put it in my phone later. I’ll write mine down for you too.” He withdrew a notepad from his apron and flipped it open. I stood in silence as he wrote his number down, ripping it from the pad before handing it to me.

         Once I had his number, I took the notepad and wrote my own down as quick as I could while still making it legible. He gave me a close-lipped smile when I handed both the pad and pen back, telling me he’d see me around before disappearing to help some more customers. I just felt thankful my wallet had somehow managed to come home with me.

         A new text snapped me out of my daydream and I hurried out of the pub, switching between walking and jogging the eight minutes it took to reach the college from the nearby train station. Justin told me to meet him in the Fine Arts building that was at the far end of campus. I didn’t dare question it, texting back I would be there in less than five minutes.

         By the time I reached the front doors, Justin had texted me again. I didn’t bother to check what he said. We would be face to face in a few more seconds.

        The beauty of the building caught me off guard when I entered through the main entrance. A wide spiral staircase wound its way up in the middle of the main floor. In my three years of being a student, not once had I visited the Fine Arts building. Now, looking around, I wondered why.

         “Izzy!” Justin’s voice echoed in the building, the acoustics breathtaking.

        I looked up and saw him standing on the third floor, looking down at me. The building had been built in a way that all the floors were exposed, making it like one giant room with dozens of classrooms off to the sides.

         Somewhere far above, a lone piano played a sad melody. I could hear a choir practicing on the second level, the different voices mixing to create a beautiful sound.

         But none of those could ever compare to what lay on the main floor, directly across from me.

        Before I knew what I was doing, my legs had carried me across the lobby, to the art gallery on the opposite side of the floor. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat when I peered in.

          Footsteps pounded on the smooth floor, and Justin ran to my side, panting when he reached me. “I should’ve know this would be the thing to immediately draw your attention,” he said, a strained laugh following.

        I opened my mouth to make a witty response, but the words died on my lips when I noticed the case hanging from his left hand. My excitement grew, the art gallery temporarily forgotten. “Is that—”

          Justin grinned, nodding. “It sure is. You told me you wanted to hear me play, and Saturday’s are when I usually practice, so I thought you might like to hear what I’ve spent the past seven months working on.”

        “Are you kidding me? Let’s go!” I headed for the spiral staircase, promising to take a longer look at the artwork in the gallery after I’d heard Justin play.

         We climbed the stairs to the third floor, and my steps faltered when I noticed a girl sitting in the corner of the room Justin entered. Her hair was dyed lavender, her denim dress a light blue, making her olive skin glow. She smiled and waved when she looked up from her phone.

         “Hello,” she said, the smile growing into a grin when I looked at the instrument resting against her leg. “It’s a cello. I’m Melodie, by the way.” She held out a hand.

        I shook it, sparing a questioning glance back at Justin, who turned even redder. “Nice to meet you, Melodie, I’m Izzy. Justin never told me he played with someone. Well, I guess we haven’t been friends that long, though.”

         Melodie laughed, the sound amplified in the room. “We’ve been practicing a duet for the past seven months. I’ve told him countless times that we’re beyond pros at it by now, but he refuses to let anyone else hear. Which sucks, because I have connections that could get us a slot in the college talent show.”

          “There’s no way people will want to hear my parts.” Justin eased the door shut, ignoring the glare Melodie shot his way. “You may be ready, but I’m not.”

        There was some of the side of him I’d seen at the banquet mixed with the shy young man from the sociology club meeting.

         After a few more minutes of arguing, the two finally stopped bickering and told me to take a seat on the other side of the room. I obliged, bouncing my right leg as Justin hooked his phone up to a cord that I assumed connected to the room’s speakers. He took a deep breath and stood beside Melodie, who winked at me when we made eye contact.

        She raised her bow and began to play at the exact moment Justin hit play for something on his phone. The room didn’t have the same acoustics the hall outside did, but the music still sounded beautiful. I recognized the song after about ten seconds and grinned even wider. It was “Rewrite the Stars” from The Greatest Showman. My favorite song for an entire year when it first came out years earlier.

        I clapped when they finished, words to describe what I thought escaping me. Instead, I just nodded when they asked if I liked it. I looked at Justin and tilted my head to the side.

         “If you’d told me more about this side of you at the banquet, I have a feeling I never would’ve escaped through the bathroom window.”

         Melodie laughed at this, packing away her cello. “I heard about that. It’s nice that you two made up and decided to become friends. Anyway, I should get going. Wendy’s waiting for me and she hates it when I’m late. It was nice to meet you, Izzy! I hope we meet again!” And with that, she ran from the room and around the corner.

         “Wendy’s her girlfriend,” Justin said after a few seconds of silence. “They’ve been together since freshman year of high school and are disgustingly adorable together.”

         “I thought you said violin was your darkest secret.”

        He laughed, placing his violin in its case. “For the most part, it is. But Melodie and I were in band together in high school. She’s one of the few people that I know from before who goes here. We’ve been talking about performing in front of a live audience for years, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

         “Well, what are you waiting for? You two play amazing together!” I walked over to the piano resting against the back wall and started to absentmindedly hit keys.

         “The idea of playing in front of so many people terrifies me. You sound just like Melodie, do you know that? She always gets mad at me.” He finished packing up his violin and headed for the door, checking behind to make sure I followed.

         I stopped at the stairs and turned to him. “I think you should do it.”

        Justin shook his head, waiting for me to start descending the stairs before answering. “That sounds like a pretty bad idea. I just don’t think I’m ready for other people to hear me yet. Besides, the talent show is in two months. Any available places must be long gone by now.”

        “But Melodie said that she has a slot reserved for you guys!” We reached the main floor and I whirled around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come on, Justin, you’ll never know what might happen if you don’t try.”

         “Can we please change the subject? I don’t want to talk about this right now. I think we should use this time to get to know each other. Also, want to take a look inside the art gallery? I noticed you checking it out earlier.”

        I felt tempted to call him out of changing the subject but decided against it. We could address the issue again within the next week. “I’d love to check it out. You don’t have anywhere to be today, do you?” It would be nice to spend the afternoon with someone other than Tony for once. As much as I loved him, he could get on my nerves at times. Not to mention he was still pissed at me for getting drunk the previous night.

        “Nope, I’m free the entire afternoon. We could even find somewhere to sit and talk after this. If you’d like to, of course.” His face turned bright red like it always did.

         “I know this little café near my place that we can visit,” I said, pushing the glass door to the art gallery open and heading inside. “The drinks can get a little pricey, but unlike most places, they’re actually worth the extra few bucks.”

         “Perfect.” He followed me into the room.

        And so, we spent the next hour browsing through the student artwork at the gallery. Most of the paintings puzzled me, with their obscure images and color schemes. I stopped in front of a particularly interesting portrait, staring at it for a long time trying to figure out what it might be.

         A myriad of vague shapes filled the canvas top to bottom, pastel purples, greens, and pinks seemingly splashed on top of a drawing. Justin noticed my fascination and stood off to the side while I continued to examine it. After fifteen minutes, I figured it wouldn’t make any more sense and moved on. Another ten minutes later, we both agreed it might be time to leave.

         In the café, we each ordered a latte with a fancy name and took a seat at a table beside the shop window. I didn’t see the girl who had a crush on Tony anywhere. That surprised me, considering I couldn’t remember the last time I’d visited where she wasn’t present.

         “I think we should volunteer for something,” Justin said, wincing after he took the first sip of his latte. “The club said they need some people to donate blood, what do ya say?”

         The last time I’d donated blood, I’d been sixteen. “Sure. We’re approaching graduation anyway, it might be a good idea to get in as much volunteer opportunities as possible.”

        He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “I can get the forms for us tomorrow. Just tell me a meeting place and I’ll wait for you there to give you yours.”

         “Okay, that sounds good.”

        Before I knew it, the day was coming to an end and Justin was walking me to my apartment door. He hesitated once we reached the end of the hall, still carrying the violin around with him.

         “I had a great time today, Izzy. So great that I’ve completely forgiven you for running away from me during our first meeting.”

         I rolled my eyes, another grin spreading across my face while I shook my head. “Once again, I apologize.”

         “It’s all good. See you on Monday?”

         “Definitely.”

        With that, we parted ways. I was just reaching out to knock on the door for Tony to let me in, when I received another message. I glanced down and chuckled under my breath when I saw who it was from.

        It was Zack, and he was on his way to my apartment. He said he would be outside the building in less than five minutes. I backed away from the door and ran down the hall to the elevator, surprised a small part of me was excited to see him again.

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 3: Mr. Handsome Makes a Reappearance

“For the millionth time, I am fine!” Tony shot me a glare from the bar-stool he sat on, swatting my arms away when I tried to hug him. “If you tell anyone about what happened, I’ll kill you.”

         I sighed, setting a plate of French toast down in front of him. He stabbed it with his fork. I sighed again.

         “Look, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. You’re my platonic life-partner, remember?”

        His lips twitched, and I could tell he was trying his best not to smile. “Have you ever considered the two of us? Together? As in, an actual couple? Not that being your platonic life-partner isn’t amazing.”

         “Us? A couple? That would mean sharing a bed with you, and you hog the sheets. It would also require us to kiss and stuff. Ew.” He shoved me, and I laughed. “In all seriousness though, nah. I don’t even know why we kissed all those years ago.”

         “I’ve just been terrified at the thought of what happened to my uncle ever since I heard about the accident.” Tony’s playful grin faded away and he glanced at me. Some of his hair fell into his eyes and I pushed it back. “It’s crazy to think about how much one accident can change someone’s life. And now he’s got a granddaughter and he can’t even really play with her because of his condition and—I don’t know, it just weighs down on me.”

         I stood from my seat, pausing beside him, resting a hand on his bicep. “I’m sure good ole Uncle Will doesn’t want you to mourn over him all the time. Why don’t you give your cousin a call and see how things are going? I’m sure he’d like to have a conversation with you.”

         Tony shook his head, still poking at the food I’d made him instead of eating it. “I haven’t spoken to Mike since Ella was born almost three years ago. And with another one on the way, I’m sure he doesn’t have time to sit around and talk.”

         “Well, while you sit around and contemplate life, I’m off to school. Don’t skip your Asia Pacific Political Systems course again, do you hear me? You better not be here when I get back, Mr. International Business Major.”

        I patted him on the back, smiling at the annoyed look he shot my way. He shoved a piece of French toast in his mouth, speaking to me with his mouth still full. “Whatever you say, Mom. I could give you a ride if you want.”

        Unlike most people, I preferred to take public transportation. It gave me an opportunity to sit and think about life, daydream, or catch up on reading whenever I could. “It’s fine, I can take the bus. Text me when you’re leaving, okay? We can meet up after class and go to that café where the girl always is.”

         The bus was already packed full when I stepped on, forcing me to stand near the front for the entire half hour trip. I thanked the driver when I hit my stop, gripping the straps of my backpack as I walked from the bus stop to the entrance of my college. After my only class of the day, the sociology club had a meeting. It would be the first one I attended in months.

        My class focused on criminology. I found myself distracted during the lecture, aimlessly scrolling through social media news feeds. A local BookTuber I’d followed years ago popped up. He was now published, while also still having quite a bit of influence on YouTube. I’d even met him once in passing and hated to admit I’d fangirled a bit inside. Funny enough, he was also the best friend of Tony’s cousin’s wife. It really was a small world.

         An elbow nudged me in the ribs and I frowned, looking up from my phone to the front of the classroom, where Professor Jameson had her eyes trained on me. Without a word, she went back to teaching the lecture. Words weren’t necessary. I felt embarrassed enough from the look. The girl who sat beside me gave an apologetic smile for the earlier jab.

         As soon as Professor Jameson dismissed us, I ran from the room to the college cafeteria, where the sociology club meeting would take place. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the one person who sat at the meeting table. He’d never attended any meetings before.

         Mr. Handsome—Justin—shifted in his seat when our eyes met. I approached with caution, cursing myself for being over-dramatic at the banquet a few nights earlier. No doubt he would call me out on my behavior.

         “Hello, Isabelle. It’s nice to see you again.” He spoke with formality, iciness lacing his voice.

         I forced a smile. “Hi, Justin. How’ve you been?”

         “All right. What happened to you at the banquet?”

         Great. Straight to the point. I both admired and despised him for it.

         “Um, something came up. I had to run home. Quite literally.” Surprisingly, he smiled at this.

        Justin had a wonderful smile. Far more wonderful than Paul, who I still despised for making fun of my father’s decision to take my mother’s surname. He had messaged me on Tinder later that night, but I didn’t bother to answer. I deleted the app without hesitation.

          “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked you to leave the party with me. But I have to let you know that I wasn’t planning on making any moves. Honestly, it would be nice to have a friend instead of a relationship. I’m more focused on school right now.”

         Could it be? Had I ruined a potential friendship by running away?

        I finally took a seat beside him, the smile I gave genuine. And nervous. During my three years at college, I’d encountered plenty of people, though none of them ended up as permanent friends. Just classroom friendships. The same went for Tony, but he still kept in touch with our high school friends as well.

         “Would it be too late to consider being friends? I’m sorry I ran away from you.” Heat rushed to my face when he grinned, a light chuckle falling from his lips. I continued. “Honestly, the idea of love kind of puts me off. But I would love to be friends with you! The woman I saw in the bathroom said you were a perfect gentleman.”

         He grimaced. “That was actually my aunt. Well, we aren’t related by blood, but she’s been my mother’s best friend since childhood. Can I ask why you’re put off by the idea of love? You don’t have to answer, of course.”

        “No, no, it’s fine! I had this massive crush on a guy in high school, around my sophomore year, actually, and he turned out to be a total tool. Not only did he reject me hardcore when I gathered up the courage to admit that I loved him, but he also bullied my best friend all throughout high school. It only got worse when he found out we’d had a moment at a school dance.”

         Justin looked genuinely interested. “Seriously? Hmm. And what exactly does a moment mean? Is this best friend a guy?”

         “You would be correct, he’s a guy. Tony. And by moment, I mean we kind of kissed in front of a bunch of people. Well, no, not really. It was in a corner of the room. No one—Why are you looking at me like that?” I realized a second later that I’d divulged way too much information to him.

         Judging from the red in his cheeks, I guessed he wanted to laugh. “You aren’t the type of person who thrives on small talk, are you?”

         “Sorry, I’ve always preferred long conversations. Asking someone about the weather has never really excited me.”

        “I think that’s great. Hey, since we’ve decided to become friends, do you think you can tell me what your dream job is now?”

          I’d almost forgotten about that conversation. “Painter,” I said. “An art gallery owner if I can’t sell my own paintings. What about you?”

        He laughed. “I knew you weren’t paying attention on Saturday! My deepest secret is actually that I play violin. I wanted to be a famous violinist when I was younger. Clearly that never happened. I was by no means a child prodigy.”

         “You should let me hear your music sometime. I’m sure you’re great.” Considering I couldn’t even sing, let alone play a musical instrument, anyone would probably sound beautiful to my untrained ears. Still, the image of Mr. Handsome also being extremely gifted at music somehow fit.

         A deep blush stained his entire face, and Justin glanced around the room before leaning in closer. The rest of the sociology club would be here any minute now. “I have some recordings on my phone if you’d like to hear them. Promise you’ll keep this a secret between us?”

         I looked at him with wide eyes, nodding enthusiastically. The violin had always been one of my favorite instruments, right after the harp. He blushed even more, a grin spreading across his face as he pulled a pair of old-school headphones from his bag and plugged them into his phone. The sounds of the other people in the cafeteria faded away, replaced by a violin version of “Amazing Grace.”

         As the song drew to a close, I almost had to wipe away a few tears. Justin rolled his eyes when he saw that, but I could tell it meant a lot to him that I’d enjoyed listening.

         “What do ya think?” he asked, winding the headphones cord around his left hand. “Was it okay?”

         “Okay? That was amazing! No pun intended.” He chuckled, avoiding meeting my eyes. I leaned back in my chair. “Seriously, have you considered uploading yourself to YouTube? That’s the best way to get famous nowadays. The beauty of social media.”

         A few people I recognized from other meetings took a seat at the table, greeting us with toothy grins. I smiled back before turning my attention back to Justin. He seemed like a different person, shy and reserved instead of the confident and relaxed man he’d appeared to be at the banquet.

         “No, I’ve never thought of that. I’m not exactly the kind of guy people want to stare at on a screen for any amount of time.” He whispered this, eyeing the two girls who sat across from us.

         The idea that someone I’d called Mr. Handsome would think himself unattractive was ridiculous. “Trust me, a lot of girls would love to stare at you on a screen.”

        Before he could say anything else, the president of our club appeared. She spent the next forty-five minutes discussing volunteer opportunities with the members, urging anyone who had free time to dedicate it to helping out the community. We did all want to dedicate the next few decades of our lives to the people, after all. After the meeting ended, I jumped out of my seat and threw on my backpack. I had to run home and drop off my stuff before meeting Tony at the café.

          “Isabelle, wait!” Justin jogged to catch up to me, his honey-blond hair bouncing with every step he took. He was already gasping for air when he reached me. Kind of sad, considering we’d only crossed the one building, but I kept that thought to myself. “Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? Sorry if I’m being a little straightforward, I just don’t know how else we’d keep in touch.”

         It always surprised me when someone asked for my number. “Yeah, sure. We should hang out some time. I actually think I really like you, Justin.”

        He smiled again. God, that smile must get him any girl he wanted. “Why thank you, Isabelle. I like you too. Enough to even forgive you for climbing out of a bathroom window to avoid me. I’m kidding,” he added when heat rushed to my face.

         “I promise I won’t run away like that again. You aren’t so bad, Mr. Handsome.”

        “Mr. Handsome?” But I’d already walked away. He called out to me and I laughed, turning around to face him but continuing to increase the distance between us. “What’s that supposed to mean, Isabelle?”

         A few people stared at us. “You’ll find out someday! And just call me Izzy!”

         “Until next time, Izzy!”

        I waved goodbye, the grin plastered on my face almost painful. After three years, I had finally made a friend. The happiness remained the rest of the day, growing when I met Tony outside of the main building. He gave a surprised laugh when I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my arms so tight around his neck he told me to stop before he suffocated.

         “Why are you so happy? Did you sneak off to the bar instead of going to class? If I have to go, then so do you, Iz.”

         “Oh, shut up! I made a new friend! Isn’t that great? And you’ll never guess who it is either.”

         Tony had to pry me off him, holding me at an arms distance with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

        “The guy I ran away from at the banquet. I know, I know!” I frowned at the incredulous look he shot me. “Turns out he just wanted a friend, too. Ooh, and he’s also a violinist! I’m going to try to convince him to post a video to YouTube.”

         “Sounds like you had a rather eventful afternoon.” We started to walk down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, the horrible yellow Taurus standing out amongst the neutral shades of the surrounding vehicles.

         I shrugged, scratching my left arm. “Not really, just that one thing. How about you? Are you feeling better now?”

        He grunted as a response, sliding into the driver’s seat. I pursed my lips, wondering why the problem was now, but ignored it and climbed into the passenger seat.

         “Actually, no, I’m not feeling better,” Tony said as he started the car. “I hate what I’m studying with a passion. If I felt even a fraction of love for business instead of the passionate hate I feel for it, I would be unstoppable. But no, I would rather work at Starbucks than pursue business.”

          “Hey, don’t hate on the poor baristas! That job offers tons of benefits, you know.” He realized why I’d taken insult and looked over at me, a nervous grin pasted on his face. I’d been a barista for three years, only quitting my job a little more than a year and a half ago in favor of a summer receptionist job at my father’s own business.

        We were at the same spot Tony had almost hit Zack the Waiter when he spoke again. “So, what does this girl you mentioned look like? Is she there every single time?”

         “She has light brown hair, and yes, she is. She also checks you out every single time.” It wasn’t a lie, I’d seen her staring at his back whenever he ordered or glancing at his face whenever he walked by. A person would have to be blind not to see she had a massive crush.

         “Okay, time to keep up my end of the bargain.” Tony looked like he would rather retreat back to the apartment and check out his matches on the apps, but he still walked into the café without heading straight to the counter like usual.

        The girl sat in the corner of the room with a laptop on the table in front of her. She looked up when Tony and I entered, and their eyes locked for five whole seconds. I counted. Of course, she looked away first, the furious blush on her face making Justin’s look like a slight flush.

         Because Tony was…well, himself, he didn’t approach her. He decided to go and order his usual chilled hot chocolate instead, glancing at the girl while he waited for his drink. I tried not to snort. I ordered the same drink as Tony, smiling when he chose to take a seat close to this dreamer.

         We sat and talked for a bit before deciding it was time to head home. I met Tony’s eyes, silently yelling at him to talk to the girl, who also watched him. He shook his head, the movement so slight I just caught it. Sighing, I stood from my chair and headed to the exit.

         The unnamed girl watched us go, a flicker of disappointment shining in her eyes. She noticed me watching and her lips curved up in a subtle smile. I returned the smile, cursing Tony for deciding now was the time he would bail out on our deal.

         At least she seemed to forget about us a few seconds later, looking back at her computer and beginning to type away.

        “Are you serious?” I resisted the urge to smack him in the head when we got to the car. “Did you not see that? She was waiting for you to talk to her!”

         “She probably thinks we’re together, Izzy! Besides, why does the guy always have to make the first move? That’s bullshit.” He started the car, which sounded like it wouldn’t last much longer.

         I took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. He did have a point, as much as I hated to admit it. Girls shouldn’t be afraid to strike up a conversation.

          “Let’s just go home and watch a movie or something. I’ll make dinner this time.” I didn’t want to make him feel worse than he already did. “What would you like to eat? Spaghetti? Tacos? A microwave dinner because that’s probably the best chance you have at getting a full meal?”

         His mood lifted, and he looked at me with a new grin. “Let’s go for tacos. No offense but your spaghetti sucks.”

         “Saying ‘no offense’ does not make it less offensive.”

        Tony shrugged, and we spent the rest of the ride home listening to violin covers of popular music. I set to work on dinner when we arrived at home while Tony walked around with his camera and took pictures of random areas of the apartment. He stopped a few feet away from me and told me to smile. I stuck my tongue out instead.

         “Are we going to watch another horror? I’m thinking Evil Dead. Not the original, but the remake. The one that actually attempts to be scary. Not that I don’t love the original.” He took his usual spot at the kitchen island, flipped through the pictures on his digital camera.

        “Yeah, sure.” I looked down at my phone on the counter beside the stove when a text came in. It was from Justin, asking if I planned on volunteering for any events for the sociology club.

         Tony raised an eyebrow when I turned back to him. “What’s that look for?”

         “Oh, nothing. I’m just happy that I made a new friend.”

         “Mhhm. Are you sure this isn’t going to develop into something more? You did tell me you called him Mr. Handsome.”

         “Positive.” He didn’t look like he believed me, but he left it alone.

        Tony could think whatever he wanted, I had no intention of developing any romantic feelings for Justin. He would be a new friend, and that was it. I texted back that I was considering it. Justin answered minutes later. For the first time in weeks, I feel asleep looking forward to going to school the next day.

         The only concern I had on my mind was Tony and the girl who had a crush at him from the café. But that could wait for another day. First thing was first: I had to delete all the dating apps from my phone without telling Tony. Then, I would do everything I could to get my best friend the relationship he deserved.

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 2: A Match...Or Not

It took almost a week before I got matched on the app I’d originally swore not to sign up for: Tinder.

        After hearing nothing from the other sites and ignoring the ones I got that I knew I would never get along with in person, I caved and got Tony to make me a profile. He snorted when I went through it at first. We also ended up matching, because he thought it would be funny. It was not.

         “Come on, Izzy!” he’d yelled three days after I made an account. “You need to start swiping right or we’ll never get anywhere! Do you want me to go out into the real world to meet people or not?”

         I gave an obnoxious groan in response. “Fine. Fine, I’ll swipe right on the next person to show up. They probably won’t be into me any—” We matched. Tony howled with laughter. I stared at the screen for five minutes.

         It wasn’t until after I got over my initial shock and took a better look at the profile that I realized I’d matched with someone eight years older than me. Sure, he wasn’t old by any means, and he had a nice enough face, but I’d been hoping to avoid a match for as long as possible.

         “Tony, he’s twenty-nine! There’s such a huge age difference!”

        My best friend just laughed some more. “Come on, Iz, we’re adults. Age doesn’t matter so much after you reach twenty. Veronica was almost five years older than me, and we lasted six months.”

         “So not helping.”

        He ruffled my hair, ignoring the glare I shot his way. “Just talk to him, see if you guys make a good match. Then you two can meet at a restaurant or something for a little date. Who knows, it might go better than you’d think.”

         “Yeah, I don’t think so. Still, I guess I have to keep true to my side of the bargain.” I glanced down at my phone again, looking at the picture of my match.

         His name was Paul, and in his biography, he said that he enjoyed late-night movies, the occasional glass of wine, and had a great love of history. At least we shared the habit of an occasional glass of wine, though saying my drinking habits were occasional was putting it lightly.

        I sighed, feeling Tony’s eyes on me the entire time I checked out Paul’s profile. After a few more minutes of procrastination, I opened the message that told us we’d matched. There was one single word from him.

         Paul: Hello!

         I scrunched my nose, peering up at Tony, who watched me with a grin. Shaking my head, I focused my attention back on my phone and typed in my response.

         Isabelle: Hi! How are you? It embarrassed me just pressing send.

        The next response came almost immediately. For the next hour, Paul and I talked about our interests and arranged a date for that night. Since it was a Tuesday, I told him the dinner would have to be an early one, as I had class the following day. He didn’t need to know that class wasn’t until two in the afternoon. Or that the possibility of me going home with him regardless was next to impossible, since my experience stopped with my shared kiss with Tony.

Six hours later, I sat in the passenger seat of Tony’s beat-down car. He kept reaching over to fix my hair and makeup, excitement still written all over his face.

        “You’re going to do great, Iz. I’ll be here to pick you up at around nine, okay? Then we can go home, and you can tell me all about your magical night.”

         I snorted when he said magical. “Don’t go too crazy in the apartment while I’m gone, okay? I’ll see you in two hours.” He smiled when I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, grabbing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before he let me leave the car.

         I waved bye as he drove away, taking a deep breath and straightening my dress before I stepped into the pub that was a few blocks away from my college.

         Paul stood up from his chair when he saw me approach, a smile spread across his face. “Isabelle, it’s great to meet you.” He fumbled around before pulling my chair out for me to sit down.

         “Thank you.” I found it hard to breathe. Once he’d taken his seat across from me again, I smiled back. “It’s great to meet you too, Paul. Sorry I’m a bit late.”

        Actually, I was right on time. He’d been early. I wasn’t sure if it was worse that I’d arrived just when we’d said, or that he’d been sitting here waiting for me at least ten minutes.

         “So, you’re still in college, are you? How’s that going? I never got the chance to go. My mom needed help paying the bills after my dad passed away when I was in high school. Things going good there?”

         I nodded, quietly thanking the waiter when he brought me a glass of water. When he was no longer within earshot, I answered Paul. “Yeah, I have one year left to go for my bachelor’s degree, then I’m thinking about getting a master’s degree after a year-long break. What did you want to study?”

        “Biology, actually. I’ve always wanted to be a zoologist. A veterinarian was the more realistic approach at that dream. But, life got in the way of education.” Paul had the kind of laugh that made you want to join. He also had auburn hair that lit up in the dim light of the pub. I found myself staring at him for longer than considered appropriate, admiring his clear green eyes.

         He seemed to notice my staring, the mood at the table shifting. A small part of me considered loosening up, letting myself go for just one night. I’d never been one for the thought of hooking up, but I had to admit Paul would be the one I’d consider forgetting those morals for.

         No, that would be insane. Drinking two glasses of wine with Tony before this date had been a terrible idea. I could already feel my rationality deteriorating.

         Paul cleared his throat, waving the waiter from earlier over so we could order our food. I asked for a simple hamburger with a side of fries. The salad here wasn’t the best, and I’d never been self-conscious eating around men.

          “So, as long as we’re discussing our lives, I guess you should know that I do have a child. A daughter, actually.” My eyes must have widened because he sat up straight. “Sorry, it’s just—I—you—it’s always best to be honest from the start, in case things go anywhere. I find that women appreciate it if I tell them at the beginning about my daughter.”

         There would not be another date. That much I could guarantee.

        I forced the dozenth smile of the evening and clasped my hands in front of me on the table. “Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it.” I no longer had any unsettling thoughts about going home with him tonight.

        “Here you guys go.” The waiter reappeared, his name tag standing out against his uniform. I narrowed my eyes to get a better look. Zack. He seemed to notice me and looked over. “Enjoy your dinner.”

         I’d been to this pub several times over the years and had never seen this waiter before. He must be new.

        No sooner than we’d taken our first few bites of our burgers did Zack the Waiter appear again. “How’s the food? Everything okay?”

        Of course he asked this while I had a bunch of food in my mouth. When I attempted to answer, my response sounded muffled.

         “Yes, thank you” sounded more like a bunch of gibberish. I chewed fasted, quickly swallowing the food, and looked up at him. He looked like he wanted to laugh. “It’s fantastic, thanks,” I said, heat creeping up my neck.

         Zack smiled and bowed his head in the slightest of nods. “Great. Let me know if you need anything.” His eyes flickered to Paul for a second before he took off to another table.

          “So, Rosenberg, huh? What is that, German?” I noticed him look at my face, curiosity about my ethnicity reflected in his eyes.

        I nodded, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand without thinking. I’d definitely spent way too much time around Tony, my manners around someone who was a date were far from appropriate.

         “Yeah, it sure is. My grandfather is American, and my grandmother was a Heinz-57.” He raised an eyebrow and I laughed. “I mean she was a bunch of different nationalities. The only was she knew for certain was that her mother was Moroccan, and her father was at least a third Nigerian. People always ask me what I am, so I figure I may as well tell you now. My dad is also Korean.”

         “Huh” was Paul’s only response. Most of our small talk died out after that, and I couldn’t say it didn’t leave me with a sense of relief. Incompatibility would make it easier for us to forever part ways at the end of the night.

          Several times within the next hour, Zack the Waiter came to check up on us. He talked to me most of the time, almost seeming to forget Paul was even there. I noticed the glint of irritation in my date’s eyes when Zack came around for the fourth time within ten minutes.

        “We’re doing great, thanks. I’ll let you know if we need anything.” The hint of hostility in Paul’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by our waiter, who apologized before hurrying off.

         He did not come back to check on us again.

        “You said your dad was Korean?” This came up nearly forty minutes after I’d initially mentioned it. “Does that mean he took your mother’s maiden name?”

         The subject of many a debate within my family. “Yeah, he did. He has three brothers and my mom’s side is all girls, so they figured it would be nice to continue the Rosenberg name for another generation. Fortunately, I have two brothers, so the Rosenberg family will live on.”

         “I couldn’t imagine taking my wife’s last name.”

         My hand froze on its way to my mouth, a fry pinched between my thumb and pointer finger. “Why not?”

         Paul shrugged, his lips twitching. “The tradition is for the bride to take her husband’s last name, isn’t it?”

        I knew my smile was too wide to be believable. He had to know I was faking it. “Well, my father is secure enough in his masculinity to accept giving up his surname. Besides, he was the one to suggest it. I think it just proved how much he respected and loved my mom and wanted to keep her family name alive along with his. Now the Rosenberg and the Yeon last name will carry on.”

        He didn’t answer, instead giving a polite smile as a response. We spent the rest of the dinner talking about work and college, avoiding the subject of last names and ethnicity. I looked forward to never seeing Paul Hubert again.

         At the end of night, I received a text from Tony that he would be waiting for me down the street. He told me to take all the time I needed, adding a winking emoji at the end. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

         “Are you sure you can’t come over for a little bit?” Paul stood less than a foot away from me outside of the pub, the money I’d given him for my own meal tucked away in his coat pocket. I’d insisted to reimburse him, knowing we would never see each other again and not wanting him thinking I’d used him for a free meal and some cheap alcohol.

         I nodded, trying to take as subtle a step back as possible. “Positive. My best friend is waiting for me just down the street, I don’t have the heart to make the trip here for nothing.”

         “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. You’re really interesting, Isabelle. I’d like to get to know you more.”

         Code for: let me take you back to my place so we can sleep together. I’d watched enough movies and heard enough stories from Tony to know that.

         “Sorry, I really can’t betray her like that.” I started to grin at the knowledge Paul thought my best friend was a she, and quickly stopped myself. “I had a nice time, though.” Not really. We weren’t a great match.

         Paul nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the ground for a moment. My heart leapt into overdrive when his eyes met mine and he started to lean in.

         Before our lips could touch, I ducked out of the way, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He seemed too stunned to call me back when I bid him farewell.

         I didn’t dare relax until Tony’s 2001 Ford Taurus came into sight, the hideous yellow paintjob reminding me of a taxi cab. This had been the vehicle he chose to drive around in since our junior year of high school. It was horrible, but it still reminded me of happy memories. Late nights driving home from the movies senior year of high school, early morning breakfast runs before class freshman year of college.

        Tony sighed as I slid into the passenger seat. “Okay, spill. I can tell from your expression this date was anything but magical.”

         “He insulted my parents!”

         He frowned, his brow furrowing. “How?”

        “Uh, let me think. He basically made fun of my dad for taking my mother’s last name. And then he said that he couldn’t imagine taking his wife’s last name, as if it’s such a terrible thing to ever consider that. Thank God I never have to see him again.”

         “You aren’t going to go on another date?”

        I turned to face him, my eyes narrowed into a glare. “He suggested we go back to his place to ‘get to know me more.’ As if I didn’t know what that really meant.”

         “Would it really be that bad? We live in a hookup-oriented world, Iz. Maybe you’d calm down and change your ideas about love and relationships if you just slept with a stranger.” His mouth said one thing, but his face said another.

        “And let me guess, you’ve hooked up with a bunch of random women?” I knew he didn’t believe in even kissing on the first date, which made it all the more confusing as to why he used online dating to find relationships.

         Tony groaned, starting up the car. “All I’m saying is that you’ve never cared much about that stuff anyway, so would it be so bad if you lived a little for once? It’s entirely your choice, of course.”

         “I’d sooner make a marriage pact with you than sleep with Paul.”

        He laughed, taking his eyes off the road to look at me as he pulled away from the curb. A loud thud cut him off and I yelped. We both turned to look at the front of the vehicle, and a familiar face stared back. It was Zack. Zack the Waiter.

         A string of curses flowed from Tony’s mouth as he struggled to unbuckle. I reached over to push the button for him, and he threw his door open without thanking me, rushing out to apologize. The headlights illuminated them both, their appearances nearly opposites.

         Zack the Waiter had light blond hair and warm brown eyes. He kind of reminded me of Mr. Handsome, except he was far more handsome than Mr. Handsome. I tilted my head to the side and studied his profile for a little longer. The lips that weren’t full, but also weren’t thin that were currently moving as he talked to my best friend who had almost run him over. I found myself drawn to those lips more than any other feature. Then, he glanced at me, and the illusion shattered.

         I straightened, fumbled around with my own seatbelt, and then joined the two men in front of the car.

        “It’s no problem, really. You barely even touched me, I just smacked my hand on the top of the hood.” Zack was trying to calm Tony down, who looked like he might experience a full breakdown.

         Tony shook his head, his eyes shining in the yellow glow of the headlights. “It’s not ‘no problem’! I almost hit you! Fuck.” He ran his hands through his hair, tugging on it so hard it pained me just witnessing it.

        Anyone who didn’t know Tony would think he was overreacting, but I knew the real reason behind his behavior. Over a decade earlier, his uncle had been in a terrible crash that left him paralyzed from the waist down. It had almost killed him. Ever since hearing the news, he’d always tried to take extra care when driving. Until tonight. When he’d been distracted, because of me.

         I stepped forward, past Zack the Waiter, and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He turned and wrapped me in a hug without a word. Thankfully there was no one else around to witness this moment.

         “Hey, man, it’s fine. I wasn’t hurt, really. There’s no reason to get so upset.” Zack looked uncomfortable. His eyes met mine, and recognition filled them. “Oh, hello.”

         “Hi,” I said, patting Tony on the back, a wordless command to let me go. He did, and apologized to Zack again before walking back to the driver’s seat. Once inside the car, he rested his head on the steering wheel.

         Zack stared at him a moment before looking back at me. “Is he going to be okay? You’d think he’d sent me flying or something.”

         I nodded, clenching my hands in fists at my sides. “He’ll be fine. It’s a long story. Sorry about tonight. Both for inside the restaurant and what just happened. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

         He sighed, giving me a fake smile as an answer. “I’ll live. Just make sure your friend gets home safe, okay? Looks like he needs comforting a lot more than I do. And don’t worry about inside the restaurant, this isn’t my first waiting gig. You weren’t the issue anyway. Have a great night.” Zack the Waiter bowed his head again before taking off in the direction of the nearest subway station.

         I considered offering him a ride, but decided that would be too weird. We didn’t know each other, after all. Instead, I went back to Tony and comforted him the entire ride back to our apartment. When we got inside, he went straight to his room, emerging an hour later with puffy eyes. I kept silent.

          Many hours later, he’d fallen asleep with his head in my lap, quiet snores filling the apartment as I stared at a wall. The events of the night played on a loop in my head. Paul’s contagious laugh echoed in my mind as I stared at the photo from Tony’s cousin's wedding, his cousin and his wife surrounded by their family. Tony’s uncle in the wheelchair, his attention on his son and new daughter-in-law, grinning like he didn’t have any worries in the world.

         I fell asleep on the couch, too worried about Tony to risk moving away from him. As I drifted to sleep, my mind wandered back to the restaurant. Only I didn’t think about Paul. A head of blond hair entered my thoughts for the briefest of seconds. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind, running my fingers through Tony’s dark hair.

         When I woke up hours later, I was in my own bed, the smell of Tony’s cologne still hanging in the air.

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 1: Drink and Dash

Story Synopsis: Isabelle Rosenberg does not believe in love. And she is content. Whenever a man starts to show interest, she does her best to remove herself from the situation, effectively avoiding disaster. But then she meets Zachariah Gomez. He's sweet, he loves to do what most girls could only dream of from a boy, and Izzy has no interest whatsoever. Until one fateful night that all changes, and Izzy soon discovers that, sometimes, love is unavoidable. 

A/N: There is no reason for me to post this on here, but it’s one of my personal favorites so I’m keeping it on here for personal reasons.

-----

I knew the conversation would go nowhere five minutes after it began. A scenario I should’ve anticipated, considering I’d decided to attend a formal banquet for my college’s sociology club. Everyone here tonight wanted to meet someone. Everyone, except for me, that is.

        The guy who stood across from me had lovely brown eyes, the color so rich it reminded me of caramel. Paired with his honey-blond hair, any girl would fall for him in an instant.

         “What about you, Isabelle?” He looked at me with genuine wonder shining in his features. “Any incredible dreams few know about?”

         I did have one dream no one knew about. I wanted to be a painter, not that it mattered. Instead of divulging him with this fantasy, I shrugged.

        “Not really. I’m a major in sociology, and I plan to further my education to become a social worker, what more is there to say?”

        The handsome stranger whose name I’d forgotten immediately after he introduced himself stepped closer. “Oh, come on now, everyone has dreams they’re too embarrassed to share with the general public. Promise I won’t laugh.”

         I forced a smile, the action almost physically painful. “It’s true. Why wouldn’t I go after my dream, considering we live in a world full of possibility?” If I were to be truthful, I hated the formality of this conversation. But cursing up a storm hardly ever made a good impression.

         Mr. Handsome, as I decided to call him for the remainder of the evening, cocked his head to the side. “Whatever you say. Shall we head over to the refreshments table?” Who talked in such a way anymore, I hadn’t the slightest idea.

        With the fake smile still plastered on my face, I looped my arm through Mr. Handsome’s and followed him to the drink table. As we idled there for several minutes and continued the dreary conversation, I found myself picturing a future with this man.

         We would tell everyone of this night. Of how he asked me what my biggest dream was, and how I lied at first, but eventually warmed up to him and revealed it. He did not laugh. Our relationship blossomed from this moment, and we went from complete strangers to a power couple within the span of six months. We would have three children, just like I always wanted, and one would almost definitely end up being Mr. Handsome Jr. Most of our friends would be his friends, because I’d never been the greatest at keeping meaningful relationships, and our lives would be perfect for about thirty years. Then, we would get divorced—mainly my fault, as I am ‘incapable of love’—and the kids would spend weekends with Mom and the weekdays with Dad, since he would clearly be the more responsible parent. I snorted at the imaginary life I’d just created, and a few people glanced my way.

         “Should we get out of here?” Mr. Handsome asked, lightly touching my forearm. I felt nothing.

        No good ever came of a question like that. I glanced around the room, seeking an exit. I saw the ladies’ washroom across the banquet hall. Salvation.

         “Sure, but can I run off to the bathroom first? I shouldn’t be more than five minutes.” I prayed he hadn’t seen me wipe the sweat on my palms off on my dress.

         Mr. Handsome tried and failed to conceal his annoyance. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be waiting right over there.” He pointed to the exit and took off without another word.

         The moment he disappeared from sight, I ran to the washroom. Mercifully, there was a large enough window for me to slip out of on the other side of the room, near the stalls. I kicked off my heels and hurried to the window. Before I could reconsider how ridiculous I was being, I threw it open and tossed my shoes into the grass.

         Music from the main hall floated into the bathroom, a slow, romantic song beginning to play. Mr. Handsome might ask for a dance if I went back out there. Taking a deep breath, I swung one leg over the windowsill. The drop was maybe four feet. No big deal.

         Just as I was crawling my way out, an older woman entered. She froze in her tracks when our eyes locked.

         “May I ask which man it is you are running from?”

         “Tall, blond, beautiful brown eyes.”

         She started to grin. “Ah, Justin. Strange that you’re dashing away from such a perfect gentleman.”

        I attempted to smile back but gave up after a few seconds. “That’s the way I do things. I drink, and then I dash. He’ll find someone else no problem.”

         “That’s very true.” She walked over to the sinks and inspected her reflection. “Well, off with you. I’ll not speak a word of what I’ve witnessed. Have a lovely evening.”

         This time I did grin. “Thanks, you too!”

         And with that, I dropped down onto the ground on the other side.

        A few people threw me suspicious stares when I emerged from the bushes, walking slowly to the nearby bus stop, high heels in hand. The small clutch I’d brought as a purse didn’t have nearly enough room for what I typically considered essentials. Not only was it too small for a book, but I had to battle with it to fit my phone and some emergency money.

        “Good evening,” the bus driver said when I stepped onto the bus, his eyebrow raising when he looked down at my filthy feet.

         I had no idea how much longer I could put on fake smiles. “Hello.”

        He nodded when I showed my student ID with a bus pass sticker stuck to it. There were seven other people on the bus with me, excluding the driver. Two teenagers, three elderly people, and one young father with his child. The father was the only one to give me a smile instead of a glare.

         “Long night?” he asked when I took a seat at the front of the bus, across from him and his daughter, who looked around two years old.

         Most people never tried to talk to me in public. Then again, I almost always had earphones in. I cursed my clutch for not having enough space for them tonight.

          Shrugging, I crossed my feet, placing my clutch and shoes in the seat to my right. “You could say that. How old is she?” I used my chin to point at the little girl, not in the mood to discuss the extraordinary circumstances of my evening.

         “Turning three in a few months.” He had a five o’clock shadow, giving him a more rugged appearance.

         “Nice.”

        Our small talk ceased after that. For someone looking to build a career in communicating with people, I wasn’t the most social person. I preferred to spend time alone.

         Ten minutes later, the man and his daughter got off the bus. He told me to have a great day, despite it being close to ten at night, and then swept the girl up in his arms, leaving through the front set of doors.

         Guilt for abandoning Mr. Handsome—or, rather, Justin—didn’t sink in until I was making my way up the street to my apartment complex. I briefly wondered if he spent any time thinking about me before moving onto the next girl. It seemed unlikely.

         My roommate stared at me when he opened the door after I’d knocked a dozen times. He blinked, looking me up and down before taking a step back. “Okay, what’s the story this time?”

         “Don’t you dare judge me, Tony! I had to sneak out through the window in the ladies’ restroom. So, I apologize if I’m not as presentable as you’d like.”

         “Izzy, I’ve seen you in just about any state imaginable. Trust me, I don’t give a shit about your appearance.” We’d been best friends since second grade, Anthony and me. He was the only person I could consider a real friend these days.

         I sighed as loud as I could, stepping into the apartment. Tony jumped when I threw my heels on the floor. He had always been a bit jumpy. It made scaring him easy.

         He slunk back over to the stove, where he’d been making an omelette. “What’s the story this time? Did he manage to get a kiss out of you, or am I still the only one who’s had that honor?”

         Five years ago, during our sophomore year during a school dance, we’d both had our first kiss with each other. Tony liked to tease me about it whenever he got the chance. Like me, Tony had been terrible with the opposite sex as a teenager. Unlike me, Tony had had his fair share of relationships since that night five years ago.

         “You are still the only person I’ve gotten that close to,” I said, following him into the kitchen. “Do me a favor and unzip me.” I grinned at the smirk on his face when he turned to face me.

         Tony shook his head, motioning for me to turn around. “Do you realize how weird it is for you to act so chill around me? This is the literal definition of the friendzone.”

         Neither of us spoke for a moment, the awkward silence settling around us. Although we’d never had feelings for each other, there were times when the teasing went too far.

        I cleared my throat, pressing my dress to my chest when he’d unzipped it completely. “It’s a good thing we’re nothing more than best friends,” I said, turning back to look at him. “Other than that one time we kissed, of course.”

         In truth, Tony had to be one of the best-looking men I knew. His dark brown hair and eyes had a habit of making most girls swoon. Not a surprise, considering the family he came from had tons of beautiful people, his cousin especially. I’d only met him once, and couldn’t even remember his name, but I remembered the unreal face.

         “Just shut up and go change into something more comfortable. I need to hear tonight’s story. But wash your feet first. They’re filthy.” I stuck my tongue out at him when he went back to cooking his omelette, crossing the small space we called a living room over to my bedroom.

         Twenty minutes later, after I’d changed into some pajamas and washed my feet in the tub, I skipped back over to the kitchen. Tony placed a plate in front of me when I took a seat at the island. He waved me off when I grinned up at him, the smell of melted cheese from the omelette making my stomach growl.

        “Okay, let’s hear it.” He leaned on the counter across from me, his hair in desperate need of a trim. Bangs fell in his eyes, concealing the left side of his face.

         I held a finger up, finishing the bite of egg I’d taken. Tony waited patiently. “The night started out okay,” I said, taking another quick bite of my food. “And then he suggested that we get out of there and I knew that was my cue to run.”

        A grin spread across his face. “Izzy, why are you such a commitment-phobe? Actually, scratch that—why are you afraid of love in general? I can assure you that it’s not all that bad.”

         “Better things to do? I have a career to chase, everything else comes after that.”

         Tony sighed, taking the plate away once I’d cleared it. “It is possible to do both, you do know that, right?”

        I waved him off, standing from the stool and walking over to the easel in the corner of the room by the balcony. One side had all of my art supplies while the opposite wall had dozens of photos hanging everywhere. An expensive camera sat on a side table on top of two photo albums.

         “Is there any reason you have this particular photo out of the photo album?” I asked, nodding at the wedding photo from his cousin’s wedding a few years earlier that lay beside the camera. In it, his cousin and his wife stood surrounded by their family. Tony’s uncle—his cousin’s dad—was in a wheelchair, and the bride has two sets of parents standing near her. “You barely even talk to him.”

        Tony frowned, remaining at his spot in the kitchen. “What? I like that picture! The way her hair shines in the sunlight makes for a great shot. You don’t see hair that color naturally often.”

         “Yeah, whatever.” I laughed when he flipped me off. “Speaking of that, we should really get you out more to take some photos. I still have no idea why you’re studying business when you hate it.”

         The look he gave me could freeze Hell over. “Well, when your parents offer to pay for your education, you better damn well study what they want you to.”

        Our conversation about school ended there. Eventually, I gave up trying to paint something new and Tony decided to leave his spot behind the kitchen island. We dropped down on the couch at the same time, sitting in silence for several minutes before either one of us spoke.

         “I have a feeling we’re going to have to make one of those lame pacts to marry each other when we hit thirty.”

         I raised an eyebrow, turning my head to the side to look at him. “What makes you think that?”

        “Oh, I don’t know…maybe the fact that we’re both horrible at romantic relationships? You’ve never had one, and I can’t keep one for more than six months.” Despite trying to sound casual, I could see the genuine concern in Tony’s facial expression. He often worried he would never find the one.

         “I’m perfectly fine with living my life without romance,” I said, pulling my legs up on the couch with me. “Besides, us getting married would mean we’d be expected to have kids and everything. We can be platonic life-partners instead.”

        Tony rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to let some romance in your life, Izzy? It’s not like men haven’t shown interest in you.”

        I sighed, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table. “Yeah, and every single man who’s shown interest in me was someone I had no interest in.” Of course, I did feel lonely at times, not having someone to share my life with, but I had other things to worry about. Career things. Rent things. School things.

         My mother often badgered me for choosing to spend almost all my spare time at home with Tony, someone she knew I would never have romantic feelings for. She often sounded like someone straight out of a rom-com, lecturing me about how it was best to have children in my twenties. What she didn’t know was that I had no desire to become a mother, and that the idea of romance nauseated me. I’d much rather watch an action movie, or a horror.

         Which was why Tony and I got along so well. He loved gore, and so did I. I loved to make fun of romantic movies, and so did he. We were soulmates, just not the epic couple kind.

        “Well, should we watch a movie?” I looked over at him again and was unsurprised to see him scrolling through one of his dating apps. He couldn’t go more than a week without trying to find someone new. Sadly, I didn’t have the heart to tell Tony that the kind of girl he was looking for was likely in a bookstore and not on an app designed for hooking up with strangers in the area.

         Tony didn’t seem to hear me, continuing his search through the girls he matched with. I felt a little irritated, and no longer cared about biting my tongue. “Why don’t you go out and try to meet people the old-fashioned way?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “There’s a girl who’s always at that café around the corner who stares at you every time we go there.”

        His thumb froze, hovering an inch over the screen. Curiosity shone in his eyes when he looked up at me. “Are you being serious?”

        “Yes. And, honestly, I think she’s probably more up your alley than those girls are.” He frowned, and a small voice whispered in my head to shut up, but I ignored it. “You also aren’t really the kind of guy who just wants to hook up. We both know you’re looking for a serious relationship.”

         “Izzy, we live in the age of online dating. Tell you what, I’ll attempt to meet someone the old-fashioned way—” he made air quotes while saying this—“if you’ll make yourself a profile and go on at least one date. I could even help you set the profile up!”

        Did I really want to do that? “Fine. One date, and that’s it. But if I end up getting murdered by a crazy person, that’s all on you.”

        He laughed, throwing his phone on the armchair a few feet away from the couch. “You’ve been watching way too many crime shows, that stuff rarely happens in real life.”

         And that was how we ended up sitting beside each other on the couch with a laptop in his lap, creating dating profiles for me on all the major websites. Except for Tinder. I refused to sign up for it, much to Tony’s dismay.

        We spent the better part of the night filling out profiles. Tony would ask me questions, I would give answers, and he would type them up. I could already feel the annoyance settling in.

         One date. I repeated that in my head until it became a mantra. One date, one guy, and then I would secretly delete all the dating apps from my phone and figure out how to deactivate the accounts. I could do this one thing if it meant Tony finding a girl he would actually enjoy spending time with.

         “Should we try to get you some matches now?” Tony asked, looking up at me with a smirk. “I bet it’ll be a great date.”

         “Can this wait until tomorrow? I doubt I’ll get that many matches anyway, what with my ridiculous profiles.”

        Tony groaned, shutting the laptop in his lap before placing it on the coffee table. “Fine. You don’t have to put much effort in with some of these sites anyway. It will find matches for you.”

         “Great,” I said, dragging out the word. “I can’t wait to meet someone I have no interest in. Thanks a lot, Tony.”

         After that, we watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was the remake with Jessica Biel, and Tony fell asleep before anyone even died. While he snored beside me as the credits rolled, I snuck a look at my phone, the tiniest part of me wondering if I would have any matches.

         None. Zero. And although I knew none of the matches would interest me anyway, the knowledge that no one matched me bothered just a little more than I cared to admit.