There are only nine things on the list.
1） Drive a racecar.
2） Skydive.
3） See the Northern Lights.
4） Eat spaghetti in Italy.
5） Lose $5,000 in Vegas.
6） Visit the caves in Carlsbad Cavern.
7） Bungee jump.
8） Have a one-night stand.
9） Visit the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
I look over the list and realize that out of the nine things I hoped for as a teenager, I have only done one. I went skydiving. And I didn’t even do that until today, yet it ended up being the best moment of my life.
I reach to my nightstand and grab a pen. I mark out the second item on my list.
Eight more things remain on my bucket list. And honestly, they’re all doable. Maybe. If I can somehow prevent myself from catching an illness while I travel, every single thing on this list is doable. Number eight might even be doable tonight.
I don’t know how Jake would feel about being checked off as an item on my bucket list, but I don’t think he’d complain too much about being the other half of my one-night stand. It’s not like I’m going to let anything come of this date tonight, anyway. The last thing I want is another situation where I’ll feel like I’m a burden to someone. The thought of being someone’s irresistible one-night stand has me way more excited than the prospect of being someone’s terminally ill girlfriend.
I fold the list and put it in the drawer of my nightstand. I walk over to my dresser and grab a random pair of panties. I don’t even care what they look like. If all goes as planned, I won’t even be wearing them long enough for Jake to care what they look like. I’m pulling on my jeans when I receive a text.
Ridge: Mission successful.
I smile when I read the text. It’s been several months since we ended things, but Ridge and I still text occasionally. As hard as it was to see our relationship come to such an unexpected end, it would be even harder to lose his friendship. He and Warren are the only two friends I’ve had for the past six years of my life. I’m grateful that even though our relationship didn’t work out that it doesn’t mean our friendship can’t. And yes, it’s weird discussing Sydney with him, but Warren has been keeping me up to date on all things Ridge, even in the areas I don’t care to be up to date on. In all honesty, I want Ridge to be happy. And as angry as I was when I found out he kissed Sydney, I still like the girl. It’s not like she showed up with evil intentions and tried to steal him from me. She and I actually got along, and I know they both tried to do the right thing. I’m not sure we’ll ever get to a point where we’ll all hang out as friends. That would be too weird. But I can be happy that Ridge is happy. And since Warren filled me in on their plan to trick Sydney into going to a bar last night so Ridge could convince her to be with him, I’ve been curious how it would all turn out. I told Ridge to text me if their plan was successful last night, but I don’t think I want the details. I can accept that she’s a part of his life now, and I really am happy for him. I just don’t think I’ll ever be in the position to want the details.
Me: That’s great, Ridge!
Ridge: Yeah, that’s all we’ll say about that because it’s still too weird discussing it with you. Any word on the thesis yet?
I’m glad we’re on the same page. And I can’t believe I forgot to tell him the good news.
Me: Yes! Found out yesterday. Got a 5!
Before he responds, there’s a knock at my front door. I look at the time on my phone and it’s only six thirty. I toss the phone on my bed, walk to the living room, and look through the peephole. Jake wasn’t kidding when he said he might show up early. I haven’t even finished getting ready.
I back up to the mirror in my hallway and yell, “Just a sec,” while I check my reflection. Then I rush back and look through the peephole again. Jake is standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking out over my front yard as he waits for me to open the door. It’s honestly a bit surreal, knowing I’m about to go on a date with this guy. He’s a freaking heart surgeon! Why is he even single? He’s really cute. And so tall. And successful. And…is that a…
I swing open the door and step outside. “Holy shit, Jake. Is that a Tesla?” I don’t mean to be rude, but I brush right past him and walk straight to his car. I hear him laugh behind me as he follows me to the driveway.
I’m not a car fanatic by any means, but one of my neighbors dates a guy who drives a Tesla, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad bit obsessed with these cars. But I don’t know my neighbor well enough to go ask her if I can go for a ride in her boyfriend’s car.