Hayes smiled at me and then shook his head, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of me. The feeling was mutual.
We sat in silence for a bit. “Is Franny short for Frances?” he asked, and I had to admit his awkwardness was kind of charming.
“No.” I scrunched my nose. “Everyone thinks it is, though. It’s Francesca.”
“Francesca,” he repeated back to me. “I like it.”
I shook my head. “I’m Franny, unless you’re my grandma, who’s dead, or my mom when she’s pissed off at me. My stepdad calls me Franny-Bananny, which I hated in high school.”
“Maybe I could call you Francesca-Bananesca,” he joked.
“Oh yeah, that has a great ring to it.” I nodded. “It would sound amazing being screamed during sex.”
Oh god. Those words had actually exited my mouth, and there was no putting them back in. I avoided his eyes, letting the horror wash over me as I forced myself to fixate on a camera in the corner, as if it were the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. It felt like an hour had passed when I turned back to face him, expecting him to be avoiding my gaze. Instead, he just smiled and stared directly at me, in a way that was so intimate I had to look away again. And of course not being able to hold his gaze only made me feel more self-conscious, and made my brain start buzzing with the urge to move my body.
I went to chug the rest of my coffee, but somehow the cup missed my lip and coffee dripped down my chin and onto my dress. Before I knew what was happening, Hayes had leaned forward with his napkin, but as he tried to hand it to me, his elbow knocked the creamer over, and it rolled into my lap and then shattered onto the floor.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said, grabbing my napkin and wiping off the table frantically as cream dripped onto my leg.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way…” I sighed as I blotted up the coffee that had already seeped into my dress. “But this is definitely the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”
*
When it was finally over, Eliza steered me offstage and back to the greenroom. I flopped onto the couch, eager to hide. As soon as she left, I flipped a middle finger in her direction.
“Dude,” Lola said, running her hands through her yellow-white hair, “that was a small shit show.”
Cleo turned a stern eye in her direction. “Lo…”
“I’m sorry. But it was. Your mom?” She grimaced, mouth tight.
Cleo begrudgingly nodded in agreement. “Okay, yeah. Lola’s right. That was rough.”
“You’re lucky FrannyDoyleDesign.com was available,” Lola added.
“We bought you the URL,” Cleo said, sitting down next to me.
“You two are amazing.” I paused for a breath, letting the madness of the morning register in my brain. “I am trying not to freak out, but I am freaking out.”
“How the hell did that even come out of your mouth?” Lola looked like she was trying not to laugh.
“I don’t know!” I pressed my palms to my forehead. “I just wanted to sound like I had my shit together.”
“I can’t believe they made you sit there for fifteen minutes and fake-date,” Cleo said, incredulous.
“Trust me, it was even more awkward than it looked on TV.” I smooshed my face into a pillow. “I told Hayes it was the worst first date I’d ever been on. Turns out he’s sort of an asshole.”
“Ouch,” Lola said with a grimace. “But seriously, how can he be so attractive and also so awkward? He was such a dick.”
“He’s shy? Or he was just as nervous as I was?” I guessed. “Or maybe he was raised in a fancy mansion by wolves.”
“Bingo,” Cleo declared with a wave of her finger. “They did say his parents were on a cruise. Seems like a cover-up.”
“In his defense, I did make a very dumb sex joke and then spilled coffee all over myself,” I said as I sat up and straightened out my dress. “It’s not like I brought my A game to our fake coffee date.”
“Well, luckily you never have to see him again,” Cleo said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
I felt a strange twinge of disappointment as she said this but brushed it off quickly. “Thank god,” I said with a groan. “Because my track record with the guy is terrible.”
Lola bent over the table and smeared cream cheese on a sesame bagel. “You did great, Fran,” she said, taking a huge bite as she walked back to the chair she’d been sitting in. “He was terrible.”