An hour later, satiated and slightly buzzed, Serena and I stood next to each other at the sink. I rinsed; she loaded the dishwasher. I clicked the faucet off as we finished, and Serena put a dishwashing pod in and shut the door, actually hitting it closed with her hip—like some sort of starlet in a movie—before pressing a couple of buttons and setting the machine whirring. She casually draped a hand on my neck, nails scratching gently where hair met skin. “So,” she said, her voice lower than I’d ever heard it, her face tantalizingly close to mine, “what should we do now?”
*
“Wait, you had a nice dinner, which she made. And you started making out in the kitchen. And then because it was going well, you panicked and left?”
Perrine said the words through a mouthful of lettuce.
I let out a long sigh. I’d been replaying the entire date with Serena in my head since I’d left her apartment last night. “Okay, first of all, I did not call it ‘panicking,’” I said, giving her The Look. “It was really nice. I just realized last night that she’s not who I wanted to be with. And once that hit me, I knew I couldn’t stay. So when she invited me into her bedroom, I told her I had to go home.”
I didn’t mention to Perrine that Franny had also been in my thoughts the entire time, and that I’d been comparing every move Serena made to her. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Franny had made me laugh the other night at my office—at myself, and the world. And how then, later, our conversation had shifted to things that were deeply personal. I was never bored when I was with her. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything else when she was around. And also, apparently, when she wasn’t.
“Because you said you had a doctor’s appointment.”
I nodded.
“On a Sunday morning.”
“It’s not impossible!” I protested.
“Hayes, I’m a freakin’ doctor. Most of us stay home on Sundays, unless we’re on call.”
I tilted my head back. Maybe staring at the ceiling would save me. I wasn’t sure how to explain this to Perrine, who rarely pushed me on dating but still had a hard time hiding her eagerness for me to “find someone.” The date had been good. Great, even. It’s just that the feeling I’d expected—some uptick in pulse, a quiver of excitement, a deluge of nerves—never happened.
Even just the sight of Franny working on the floor with her earbuds on clawed at something animalistic and raw inside me: the urge to confess all my feelings, to feel the weight of her on top of me, right there on those wood floors. And when that feeling never materialized with Serena, it didn’t feel right to stay.
“So you would have rather I’d slept with someone I’m not entirely into?”
“No! No, I’m definitely not saying that. And I’m not trying to criticize you. Just getting to the bottom of what was going on.”
Freakin’ doctors. Always trying to solve things.
“I guess I just kept thinking about how much I enjoyed having dinner with Franny the other night. And how dinner with Serena wasn’t that.”
Perrine’s eyes morphed into laser beams, narrowed at my head. “You didn’t tell me you had dinner with Franny.”
Wait, hadn’t I?
“Yeah, I did.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
Perrine shook her head, clearly pleased that she’d gotten this information out of me.
“We had dinner at the new Arbor office.” I tried to make this sound as if it were no big deal.
“Like a date?” The high pitch to her voice told me that Perrine did indeed think this was a big deal.
“She was working!” Why did I suddenly feel defensive? “You’re the one who set this whole thing up, remember?” I continued. “She’s been dealing with stuff at our office. And I happened to be there and ordering takeout, so I asked her if she wanted some too.”
“Mm-hmm,” Perrine said, raising her eyebrows at me, forever a skeptic. I ignored her and dug back into my salad.
“I’m going with Serena to her gala event on Saturday.” My voice was resigned. “So maybe after that, I should end things.”
“Um, you like someone else. You definitely need to end things.” She said this as if she wanted to also add “you dumbass” but had refrained.
“Even if I did like Franny”—Perrine rolled her eyes at me as I said this—“I’m not even sure she’d be interested in me. I don’t know anything about the type of people she’s dated. They’re probably all, like, graffiti artists or famous musicians.”