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Josh makes a choking sound behind his hand.
Layla glares at him. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” He swallows hard. “Um, why twenty-five?”
She shrugs. “It seemed like a good age. Gave me long enough to sort out my career, but didn’t leave it so late that my fertility started to decrease, or all the good men were taken.” Josh starts coughing again, even harder. Layla fumbles in her bag. “Hang on, I’ll just show you.”
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up as she passes him a crumpled bit of paper. “This plan is an actual list? That you’ve written down?”
She stares at him. “Of course. How else would I remember to do everything on it?”
“Of course.” He clears his throat, studying the list. I peer over his shoulder to get a better look. The paper is worn and water-stained, like she’s been carrying it around in her bag for a while. At the top, the words Ten Year Plan have been scrawled in loopy, teen-girl handwriting. A long, neat list is bulleted underneath, with items like ‘Finish business degree (21yo)’, ‘start a fashion web boutique (23yo)’, and ‘Make first international sales (24yo)’.
There’s only one box left unchecked. ‘Get married (30yo).’
“So, what?” Luke says. “You wanted to be married by thirty? You have a couple of years then, don’t you? You’re not behind.”
Layla scowls at the macaroni. “Yes, but I was meant to start dating at twenty-five. No one ever finds The One on their first go. Well some people do, but it’s statistically very unlikely. So I calculated I’d need to factor in a couple of years of dating before I found the right guy.” She pokes at her pasta. “But I kept pushing it back. I kept telling myself it’s more important that I work on the shop. And now I’m turning twenty-nine in a few months, and I’ve never had a proper boyfriend. And at this rate, I never will, because I don’t even know how!” She flops back against the sofa, heaving a huge sigh.
I grin. I’ve never seen her this tipsy before. She’s usually so uptight. “I love her,” I say. “She’s so cute. Oh my God.”
She scowls. “It’s not funny. People expect you to have experience by your thirties. They won’t want to teach me.” She shovels in another mouthful of pasta. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she mumbles. “I’ve tried so hard to find someone, but nothing is working.”
Josh straightens in his seat, his mouth set in an angry line. “No,” he says grimly.
“No, what?” She asks.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t say that.”
She stabs another bit of pasta. “Yeah? How many twenty-eight-year-olds do you know that haven’t even had one relationship?”
“It’s not that uncommon,” Luke says. “It’s not the norm, but it’s not odd by any means.”
She throws up her hands. “And how many of those people go on two dates a week and never get a second one? You can’t tell me that’s common.”
Luke doesn’t say anything. Layla shakes her head, setting aside the pasta. “I want a family,” she mumbles. “I want a husband. I try so hard to make people like me, but I can’t. And now sales are down in the shop, and I’ve got so much more work to do on this new line, and no one wants me…” she runs her hands through her hair, tugging. “I just… want someone to go home to, I guess.”
Josh’s eyes widen. For a moment, we all sit in silence. She looks so worn down and tired, it hurts my heart. “Aw, jeez,” I mutter, grabbing at her and tugging her into a hug. She stiffens for a second, then relaxes against me. “It’s okay,” I mumble, rubbing her back. “Look, pet, if this is bothering you that much, we’ll help you.”
She goes still in my arms. “Help me?” Her voice sounds odd.
“Aye. Maybe you ain’t looking in the right places for men. We can probably hook you up with some good guys, or something.” I try to pet her hair comfortingly, but she pulls free, her face suddenly lighting up.
“You could!” She says. “You could help me!” She points over my shoulder at the shelf of podcast awards over our TV. “You have a dating advice show. You know how to do this. You can teach me how to date!”
Luke looks confused. “Do you want some books or something? I’m sure we can find you some good literature—”
She shakes her head. “Not books. I’ve read them all. Look.” Picking up her bag off the floor, she upends it. Three library books skitter out. I glance over the spines. The Tactical Guide to Finding a Man. Dating 101. Attracting a Guy - Tips for Dummies. Christ.
Josh looks at them, his lip curling. “Why am I not surprised that you tried to study dating?” He mutters. “Layla, this is BS. None of these books work. They’re full of sexist crap.”
“I know,” she emphasises. “That’s why I want lessons from you guys. Practical lessons. You could, I don’t know… take me out to bars or something. So I can practice!”
Josh goes very still. “Excuse me?”
She nods, her eyes shining. “Whenever I’m on a date, I go all weird and awkward, and I can’t think of anything to say. But I’m comfortable with you.” She turns to me. “Zack. You’re good at flirting. And making people like you. You could teach me, right?” I hesitate, and she puts a hand on my chest. “Please? I’ll pay you.”
I pull a face. “I’m not a hooker, lass.”Jesus, I know I sleep around, but seriously?
