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“Or two weeks to avoid, avoid, avoid and come down with strep throat at the last minute so I have an excuse not to go.”
“This isn’t debate finals, Mal. That’s not going to work this time.”
Tap tap tap.
“In!” Perky announces. “I’ve logged into your online dating profile,” she informs me.
“What? After that weird guy who bragged about how he scales his own teeth with a nine-dollar kit from DebtSlavesNoMore.com and showed me his DIY-dental channel on YouTube, you know I swore off online dating.”
“His videos were impressive,” Perky says. “I didn’t know gums could bleed like that and still heal.”
Fiona and I share a shudder that rates a 3.2 on the Richter scale.
“I am not so desperate that I need to find a high school reunion date on an online matchmaking website.”
Fiona and Perky look at each other.
“Come on!”
They turn their attention to the dating site.
“I’m just going to flip you to Available,” Perky announces, her fingertip slowly swiping. She peers at the screen. “When did they add Desperate as an option? Huh.”
“You have to field the dick pics,” I inform her. “No way am I sorting through those again.”
“Why do guys think that’s a good idea? Do we send them pictures of our labia?”
“Only when they ask,” Perky mumbles.
“You do not!”
“No. I don’t. I send back a picture of a huge cock and say, ‘Mine is bigger than yours.’”
“Bet that shuts them up,” Fi calls out.
“No.” Perky frowns. “Not all of them.” A thousand-mile stare settles on her face.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I tell them seriously. “You know, and I know, that I’ll suck it up and go to the reunion. Between my mom finding out about it, the onslaught of everyone from our class coming into town for it, and my own eternal optimist curse, I’ll go. Just don’t make a big deal about it, okay? It’s hard enough having my past thrown in my face every day now that Will’s back.”
“That bad?” Fiona asks softly.
“That good.” I set my fork down and just go for the sweet naan. “He’s even better. Ten years has made my freaking high school crush even more appealing.”
“I’m sorry,” Perky commiserates. “What an asshole.”
“He’s an asshole for turning out to be an even better human being as an adult?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense, Perk.”
“It does according to Friend Code.” She snatches the naan from me before I eat it all.
“You both know how it is. I love living here. I love our town. The downtown is where I belong. There is nothing about our area that isn’t perfect for me. I went to Brown and loved Providence, too, but it wasn’t home. This is home. I want a house here. A husband. Kids in Little League and Boy and Girl Scouts. I want to take them to Fenway Park and ride the Swan Boats and avoid Salem every October. I want to take them to the Dance and Dairy festival every August and gorge on funnel cakes and fried Twinkies. I am hooked. I was born in the just-right place.” I sigh. “But when people who left come back to visit, there’s always that sneer. Like they’re better or smarter or whatever for leaving.”
“Does Will have it?” Fiona asks.
I think about him in that suit this morning. Our conversations. The phone call.
