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"Okay, right. I went with Knox to the sandwich shop down the street, and as soon as we pulled in, I shit you not, there she is."
"What?" Sarah shrieks, "What in the fuck? She followed you guys!"
"Ridiculous, isn't it? I was absolutely mortified. But Knox came to the rescue after I stormed out of the truck, ready to attack her. I can't take her shit much longer."
Flashes of childhood memories play before my eyes. Too long I've dealt with her and her madness. Way too long.
"I don't know how you do it! Damn, Emma, she never stops."
"I know, I know," I sigh, "Much to my dismay, he asked her to join us, in a cute attempt to defuse the situation. Honestly, I secretly think he was trying to score brownie points."
"Ha!" Sarah giggles, "I'm not surprised. She's not an easy one to score anythingwith."
"Don't I know it, but the poor guy tried his hardest. He deflected her bitchy-ness the entire time, steering the conversation elsewhere. I could easily tell he's been a therapist for years, the skills we use on people was noticeable. Overall it wasn't bad. I wish though... oh, never mind." I stop the thought in its tracks. No need to say it, because I shouldn't be thinking it. He's off limits. No picturing of his sexy lips allowed, or the way he laughs freely, his face lighting up at the smallest things.
"You wish what, Em?" Sarah asks, interrupting my thoughts.
"Nothing." I answer, fiddling with the hem on my pajama shirt, the fabric worn and soft. "Those hands are constantly moving, playing with something. Sit still like a proper lady!" I hear my mother's voice scold me, the memory strong. A nervous habit I guess; my fingers have a mind of their own.
"You like him, don't you, Em? I know how you get. Shy and anxious. Are you playing with the hem of your shirt right now?" Sarah questions me, and I can't help but laugh, my friend pinpointing me exactly.
"Your laugh is a dead giveaway. Maybe he will defy all odds and knock the socks off your mother. He'll break the rules and finally, cure her." Our laughter mixes together, Sarah's humor spot on. Wouldn't that be a hoot. It'll never happen. My mother believes what she believes and I hate to admit it but I believe it, too. It's all I've ever known. But what if your mom is wrong? What if love doesn't follow any rules? The voice in my head asks me for the umpteenth time, and I push it down.
"How did you leave off?" Sarah asks, while I pause to finish my glass of wine. I yawn, the long week taking hold; grateful tomorrow is finally Friday.
"My mom drove me back to work. Knox offered but she was quick to jump in. She must know there was a connection between us. I mean, you would've been blind not to see it."
"Oh, you finally admit something. Gush about him, will you? You only live once, Em."
I grin to myself like a gofer as Knox's image flashes in my mind. "Mmm, he's gorgeous. His suit pants hug his body like a glove, a nice ass to grab on to. Not many men have a good ass anymore." Sarah mutters her agreement, urging me on. "His biceps flexed under his shirt every time he moved... Shit, I caught myself staring a few times. Ooo, his face... even better... dark olive skin with sexy lips." Sarah's giggles snap me out of my reverie. "Damn, I'm rambling! You need to see him. I won't do him justice only describing him."
"Lunch at the office on Monday?" Sarah asks excitedly, like a young girl seeking out her crush.
Our conversation wraps up shortly after; Sarah fills me in on her life briefly. The rest we'll discuss at lunch. I let her know about Curt, the guy my mother desperately wants me to date, who is texting me once a day now. She tells me to pursue Knox, regardless of how my mom feels. It's about how I feel.
What do I feel? I wish I knew, or could at least figure it out.
After hanging up, I sit, my hands pulling on the hem of my pajama shirt. A jumble of emotions flow through me and my eyes slip closed, exhaustion nips at me.
Is my mother right? Do rules matter when it comes to love? Is that how we find the perfect person?
So far, I've been unsuccessful. My sister, Melissa, my mother's right hand girl and ever devoted rule keeper, certainly believes them. Funny how her first marriage didn't work out.
Lately, doubts are digging their way in my brain like small seeds ready to sprout. Why can't I have sex before the first five dates, as rule number 2 states. How horrible can it be? I've never had a one night stand because of this rule. I'm missing out, I know I am. I watch Sarah, and my other friends have wild nights and I long to do the same. For the experience, for the fun, to live without rules for a change. But shame and my mother's stern voice hold me back.
She states there's no such thing as insta-love. Love needs to grow over time. I understand this rule, but I question it. What about love at first sight? What about instant attraction? All of those amazing experiences are wiped away with one rule.
I sigh, my body depleted. I grab the remote, needing something to do with my ever fidgeting fingers. I flip through Netflix, in search of a new show, when my phone buzzes with a text.
My stomach flips, the butterflies suddenly alive and well. Max Kensington? Crazy, obsessed with me Max Kensington?
It's been years since I've heard from him, our short-lived college relationship one I've tried to forget. Many times.
A few more messages pop through asking if we can get together. I decide not to answer, flicking my phone to silent.
I sink back into the couch, pressing play on my remote.
