Page 6 of The Status Situation

“My life doesn’t need any spicing up.”

Even as I say the words, I’m not convinced I believe them myself. Of course, having a woman would be nice, but what I’m looking for can’t be forced. That’s why I made the decision a long time ago to just let things play out the way they are supposed to, and in the meantime, I’m focusing on my work and my clients at the gym.

“Bullshit. You go to work, you go to the gym, and you go home to sleep. That’s your life. You need a woman, and more importantly, you need to get laid.”

“I have no problems getting laid when I want to,” I tell him flatly.

“And when was the last time you got some?” He throws back at me.

“My sex life is none of your business, Sean.”

With a sigh, he stands up and snaps the cuffs of his suit. “Fine, I’ll drop it. For now. I’m just trying to look out for you, you know.”

“And while I appreciate it, it’s not necessary.”

With a shake of his head, he lifts the file that Wynita gave back to him and then leaves my office.

I let out a breath and then pull my cell phone out of the pocket of my slacks, deciding to play on it for the remainder of the time. I got plenty of work done today, and there isn’t enough time to start anything else. Besides, it’s not like I’d be able to focus now anyway, not with the conversation I just had with Sean replaying in my head the way it is.

Three

Maria

Not long after Darius and Chase bullied me about my dating life, we had an influx of customers that kept the two of us busy for the rest of the shift. I had hoped that meant that Darius would move on and forget about his wanting to help me find a date thing, but unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking. The second we got home, he started in on it all over again, and while I still have no idea why he’s so invested in this particular aspect of my life, I know him well enough to know that he’s not just going to drop it. Once he’s set his mind on something, there’s no deterring him.

So, I’m sitting in the corner of our navy couch, which we got second-hand from a thrift shop two days after we moved in, with my phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Per Darius’ instructions, I’m going through my friends list again, and I’m doing so solely to appease this annoying man who calls himself my best friend.

I’m surprised at how long it’s taking me to get through it, but I haven’t done a purge of the list since college, so it makes sense. If nothing else, at least I’m getting the chance to do so now, because I don’t remember half of these people, and I have to keep visiting their profiles to see if that helps jog my memory as to how we met. I have already unfriended a lot of them, but all of these extra steps are making this take longer.

The only thing helping me get through it is the wine that Darius and I are drinking. We are already on our second bottle, and I have, thankfully, moved past tipsy and am now more than a little inebriated.

“This is so stupid,” I grumble to myself, despite knowing he can hear me.

I wish I knew why I am even still entertaining this. I may have admitted to wanting a boyfriend, or even just a date, but I don’t see how scrolling through a list of people I don’t know or remember is going to help with that. Am I supposed to start chatting with one of them at random to see if something sparks between us? Am I supposed to judge whether we are going to be a good match based solely on what they put on their profiles? There are things even I don’t post!

Social media is not the way to learn who someone is.

“Does that mean that you are ready to admit that I’m right?” Darius asks pointedly from where he’s sitting in the recliner, only about two feet away from me. “Are you ready to say that your weight isn’t the reason you are single and your pickiness is?”

After sticking my tongue out at him, I take another long sip of red wine so that I don’t have to respond. It’s not the most mature thing to do, but I hate it when he taunts me like this. Besides, he’s wrong. Just because I’m not open to the idea of going out with some random man I know nothing about doesn’t mean I’m picky.

Every experience I’ve had with dating or with men in general has gone poorly solely because of my weight, so there’s no doubt in my mind that that’s what the problem is. There’s nothing anyone can say that’s going to convince me otherwise, either. Now, if only I could get Darius to see that, too, so that we can stop all this.

“What’s the ultimate goal here, Darius?” I ask, hoping to get a better idea of what he’s trying to accomplish. “What’s it going to take for you to back off and butt out of my dating life?”

He laughs, but doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’ll stop when your status says ‘in a relationship.’ How about that?”

“Why?” I grind out through clenched teeth.

“Because when your social media says you are in a relationship, that’s when it becomes official.”

Annoyed, I roll my eyes. “No, you idiot. I mean, why are you pushing this so hard? Why do you care what my relationship status is?”

Only then does he look at me, and the expression on his face says I should already know the answer to that. “Because you are my best friend. And I want you to be happy.”

Color involuntarily flushes my cheeks, which has nothing to do with the alcohol I’ve consumed. “I appreciate that, Darius—I do—and you know I love you for it. But I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

“I know,” he replies, lifting one shoulder. “But it helps, and it gets you laid.”