Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(37)

“Sorry,” he says while swiping his thumb up on the screen again. “Someone named Matthew is blowing up your phone.”

At the mention of Matthew’s name, my whole body relaxes, and the thought of him sending me his daily scores, one after the other, makes me smile. I lift my drink to my lips in an effort to hide my grin. After Finn hands my phone back to me, I text him, It’s Phoebe:)

Give Finn my number.

I’m suddenly overcome with a sense of guilt. I feel like I’m cheating on Matthew with Finn. And Jonathan. Who I also happen to be cheating on with Finn. How did I get here? I wonder, when just a week ago the thought of finally finding someone felt so far away. Now I’m exchanging numbers with Finn, fielding emotional outbursts from Jonathan, and texting Matthew more than ever before.

I clutch my phone, eager to respond to Matthew’s text, and flash Finn a smile while he listens intently to Meg and Noah’s conversation about a movie I’ve never seen. He smiles back. Almost as if I can sense it, I turn to find Jonathan looking at me from across our tables with a pained expression I can’t quite place. Sorrow? Longing? Whatever it is, something isn’t right. He raises his glass to me, and I raise mine back. I take one more sip of my drink to steady myself as I prepare to join the conversation happening around me, but I have a hard time willing myself to focus. Because for the first time in my life, the nagging voice in the back of my mind that’s always been wondering when when when is starting to ask who who who?





Phoebe’s Guide to Losing Her Virginity in Thirty Days


A Checklist


Redownload Hinge Practice Flirting with Teacher Rob Pet a dog with a cute owner and strike up a conversation Compliment a stranger on his outfit Flirt with someone at Jamie’s wedding Flirt with Finn Find the cutest guy on the plane to help me with my luggage Leave my number for a waiter

Give Finn my number Get a random guy to buy me a drink

Get Finn to buy me a drink Get drunk and make out with a stranger Rear-end a guy and exchange information Go on a date with one of the meet-cutes from above Go on a date with Finn

Go on a dating app date

Advertise myself on Craigslist

Go on a date with Matthew





Notes


—Leave Teacher Rob out of this.

—You’re obsessed with tote bags for a reason. Carry one with you at all times. This will minimize the chances of bodily harm.

—When complimenting an article of clothing, be sure to look at it first.





11


Wednesday

(Twenty-One Days Left)

The harpist strums the familiar opening chords of “Here Comes the Bride” as I begin my descent down the middle aisle of my high school auditorium. My cheeks burn from the heat of a hundred pointed gazes following my every move as I inch closer and closer to the stage-turned-altar. A nondescript silhouette in a tuxedo stands there, waiting for…

Me.

I pause, attempting to shake off the dozens of flower petals that I’ve collected on my heels, when I spot Jamie toward the front of the room. She ushers me forward, frantically, pointing toward the altar at…at who?

I’m halfway down the aisle now, close enough to hear the sniffles from my father in the front row, but the tuxedoed figure still refuses to come into focus.

I mutter under my breath, “I hope it’s…”

Finn?

Jonathan?

Matthew?

I don’t know how to finish my own sentence.

No matter. My excitement over the prospect of my husband being any of those three men carries me forward. The tempo of the music increases as I make my final few steps. I smile as I take my position at the altar, ready to offer an enthusiastic “I do” to whichever of my three prospects stands beside me. Finally, I turn toward him.

And my stomach drops to the very bottom of my gut.

“Teacher Rob?” I squeak, my throat constricting as he reaches over to lift my veil. He curls a loose strand of my hair around his finger and tucks it behind my ear.

“I thought we talked about you starting to call me Rob, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, sending a toe-curling shiver down the length of my spine.

He runs a calloused hand along my bare arm as I look out to the crowd, searching for someone to save me from my fate. But it’s no use. Dad dabs at his wet eyes with a handkerchief. Mom beams with pride. Jamie smooths her hair in an animated gesture while locking eyes with me, a signal I’ve learned means that I should do the same.

I scan the room until I find Nora, Meg, Alex, and a glaringly empty spot where Jonathan should be. Eyes wide, Nora nods toward Teacher Rob.

“He’s so fucking hot,” she mouths while fanning herself with what I realize in horror is Rob’s and my wedding program.

I open my mouth to speak, to protest, but there it is: the lump in my throat. The telltale sign that I’m no longer in control. My only option is to silently suffer and watch as my fate seals in front of me.

“Today we celebrate the union of Phoebe Berman and Robert Housenstein,” Shannon’s voice booms across the wedding hall.

“If anyone has any reason as to why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

I flash one last desperate look to the crowd.

As if the universe has heard my plea, the large wooden doors at the back of the room burst open.