The Shippers(62)

I stared at Cooper in disbelief for a second before I said, “Well, I disagree.”

“Why?” Cooper demanded.

“What?”

“Name one thing about him that isn’t wrong for you.”

But I was so flummoxed. Weren’t we on the same team? Didn’t we have the same goals? Like a dummy, I tried to answer. “I can name plenty of things! He’s successful, he’s … tall, he’s got a very fancy car…”

“None of that counts. You don’t care about any of that. What about him is right for you?”

My brain seemed to freeze up. “Look,” I said. “Right or wrong isn’t the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.”

“No. I came here with a plan. And you agreed to help me execute the plan. And we’re doing great. We’re crushing it! Why would you start questioning everything when we’re almost there? Ashley has rigged a whole fake slow-dance contest tonight, and whatever couple wins the slow dance has to kiss! Each other! And no matter what, Finn and I will be winning—and therefore kissing. Which means tonight is a very big night for me—a poetic opportunity for me to confront some highly unresolved issues in my heart—and I’m not just going to stay in this cabin with you and order soft serve and watch reruns of Friends on your iPad. Okay? I’m going to this lunatic parade that my sister has spent months planning, and I’m wearing this dress, and I’m doing whatever she tells me—sunburn or no. And then I’m finally going to break this curse and start living my best damned life. Starting with kissing Finn.”

I felt like that was a pretty great explanation. But here was Cooper’s takeaway: “Why—why—would you want to kiss that guy?”

“Haven’t you ever read a fairy tale? That’s how all curses get broken.”

“But this is real life—not a fairy tale. And that dude is not a prince. He’s a frog.”

“Says you,” I said.

“Says anyone,” Cooper said. Then he started counting off on his fingers. “He’s prematurely middle-aged. He only cares about status and cars. He’s weirdly competitive about mini golf, he doesn’t care about you, he’s not funny, and he’s boring as hell!”

But that was enough. I was done arguing.

I didn’t need Cooper’s permission to get this done.

I looked through my suitcase for my strappy heels, and instead of holding on to Cooper’s shoulder while I pushed my feet into them, I held on to the wall.

Cooper watched me. “Those shoes look like torture devices.”

“That’s your guy privilege talking.”

“You will one hundred percent have blisters, a sprained ankle, or a missing toe by the end of the night.”

“But high heels are all about beginnings.”

“Isn’t doing the same thing over and over hoping for a different result the definition of insanity? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

I gave Cooper a look. “We’d need a semester-long college seminar to answer that question.”

“I’m begging you to wear sneakers.”

“And that,” I said, “is why you’d flunk my seminar.”

I stood up and admired my look in the mirror.

Maybe shoes like these were the definition of insanity. But I just didn’t care.

For a second, I hoped we were done with the Finn conversation.

But Cooper wasn’t. He revved back up. “Look,” he said. “I see your eyes glazing over when he talks to you. I see the boredom rising off you like steam. You’re so focused on what you think you’re supposed to want that you can’t feel what’s real. Is that how you want to spend the rest of your life—bored into a coma by a man who can’t appreciate you? Stop selling yourself short, JoJo. Raise your standards!”

But that just made me mad. “My standards were just fine when I was about to marry Pearce Richmond. But you had to fly across an ocean to shut that down, didn’t you?”

“Pearce Richmond was a total wanker,” Cooper said. “Not one cell in his body was good enough for you.”

“But that’s true of everybody, Cooper. According to you! Nobody’s ever good enough for me! Have you ever liked even one person that I’ve dated?” Asking the question made me realize how true the answer was. “No. You’ve hated them all. You’ve mocked them and you’ve picked on them and you’ve fixated on what was wrong with them until I fixated on what was wrong with them.”

“Only because—” Cooper started. Then he regrouped: “Only because you were too good for any of those guys. You need to be with somebody who gets you, and who admires you, and who makes you laugh, and who looks after you. That’s what you deserve, JoJo—and you shouldn’t ever settle for anything less.”

But I’d just made a really good point. Cooper had torn down every guy I’d ever tried to date. I might have spent my life as a dumper, and maybe that was on me, but Cooper certainly hadn’t been helping. I felt a surge of indignation as a flash montage of all the men I’d rejected churned through my head.

Next, I leaned toward Cooper until we were eye to eye, and I lifted my brows like a challenge, and I said, “Got any suggestions?”