Bryce loses his grin when he sees that I’m serious. “You need to be firm and direct with her. Text her back and tell her to stop talking to you.”
I heave a sigh and open her newest onslaught of text messages. “I’m not sure it’ll work, but okay.”
Josh:Look. Your obsessive texts have become harassment now. Do not reply back to me anymore. I don’t wish to talk to you. Thanks.
I hold up the phone so Bryce can read my message before I send it. “Firm and direct,” he says with a nod. “Send it.”
She doesn’t reply right away, and it gives me hope that maybe she finally got the picture.
“I think this experience has scarred me for life,” I say with a little laugh, but it’s not really funny. It’s kind of terrifying. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to date again.”
“Nah, you’ll find someone,” Bryce says. It’s weird, but he’s actually acting like a decent friend for once. It helps more than he realizes, because without Colby here, the voice of reason has been ripped away from our little trio.
“You just need to find the right girl.”
I nod. “One who fits all of my criteria for a perfect girlfriend.”
Bryce lifts an eyebrow. “And what would that criteria be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know . . . not too much because I’m not picky,” I say, throwing him a look. “Just, you know. That basic list of things a girl needs to fit to be girlfriend material. I won’t go on any more dating app dates because you don’t know if the girls fit the list just from an online profile.”
“I feel you,” Bryce says. He roots around under the front counter and comes back up with an old notebook and a pen. He blows off the dust and holds them out to me.
“What’s this for?” I ask. “Gonna make a flyer for a desperate guy who needs a girlfriend and post it all over town?”
“You’re going to write a list of your perfect girlfriend criteria,” he says, tapping the paper with his finger. “And then we’ll set out on an epic quest to find that girl.”
I slide the paper back to him. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the topic of conversation right now,” he shoots back, shoving the notebook back to me. “Come on. Pick ten things. What’s number one?” He grabs the pen and writes a number one on the paper, then his eyebrows pull together when he thinks. “Nice rack,” he says, writing it down. “Number two. Nice ass . . .”
“It’s no wonder you’re single,” I say, snatching the notebook and pen from his grasp. I rip off the first sheet of paper and start over again with my own list.
“The first thing would be, I guess, that she’s nice,” I say, writing down:Nice to other people.
Bryce quirks an eyebrow. “You’re weird.”
I shrug. “Okay, number two ispretty. Are you happy?”
“I would sayfine as hell,but you can go with pretty if you’re trying to attract girls who won’t put out.”
I decide to ignore that comment. Pretty is just a word that means I’m attracted to someone. Now that I’ve started making this list, as stupid as it may be, I’m finding myself really getting into it. I want to make a good list, one that would result in the perfect girlfriend if she actually fit each item on it.
I think back to Elise. We had fun and I really cared about her, but she wasn’t perfect. For one, she always wanted me to take care of the plans. Date nights, movie nights, they all requiredmeto figure out what we were doing. It was exhausting trying to please her all the time.
I write down:doesn’t rely on me for fun.
Elise, and every other girl I’ve dated, also had one common flaw—they were glued to their cell phones. This list becomes pretty easy when I look at it as a list of things I don’t want. Soon, I’m writing things down faster than I realize, and I’m already at nine before even a few minutes have passed.
“One more,” I say, looking up at Bryce, who is regarding my list like it’s something he wouldn’t have chosen in a million years.
“No STDs?” he offers.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “If a girl fits all of these other things then she’d be the kind of girl who doesn’t have STDs anyway. I need a good one for the final thing.”
My lips slide to the side of my mouth, and I recall what I was thinking when I met Jenny for the first time. Pretty faces and perfect online profiles only go so far. You need a spark for there to be a relationship. You need to feel it in your bones.
For number ten, I write:A gut feeling.
