I shake my head at her and go to grab us a third glass of the champagne we had originally purchased when we thought she’d be an engaged woman tonight. We’re both tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunkenness, but what the hell. Neither of us are driving tonight and we both have feelings to push away.
When I return with our poison, Hailee is thumbing through my phone and staring intently at the screen.
“What are you doing, weirdo?” I ask her. I don’t care if Hailee goes through my phone; I have no secrets from her. But she never does, so it’s out of character, even though she’s my best friend.
“You just got a connection request from some kinda-cute guy in Wicker Park.” I take note of the way her face scrunches when she says kinda cute.
This stupid dating app again. I seldom even go on it, and whenever I get a notification that a guy wants to send me a message, I typically clear it and never think about it again. The last time I was actively scrolling the virtual male classifieds, an unsolicited dick picture was burned into my mind. That seems like a lifetime ago now. Most of the time, I forget I even have the app on my phone
I steal the phone from her hands and look at the smiling face staring back at me. She’s right. He isn’t terribly unfortunate looking or anything, but there is something about him that screams momma’s boy. And not in a oh, he’s so cute, he brought flowers to his mom kind of way. But more of a Bates Motel kind of way.
“No, thanks,” I scoff with a huff, handing over her glass.
“Fine, whatever. But this is fun!” She persistently swipes through various men, eyes wide and looking the happiest I’ve seen since she fell apart in my arms earlier. “Look at this one.” She scoots closer toward me so I can see the candidate. “He’s twenty-nine, owns a frozen yogurt shop, and has a golden retriever!” She swoons. “And look, even better news! He specifically says he has no kids!” We burst out in laughter.
“Here, take your cell and find a hottie we can double date with. I’ll download this app right now. Ryan who?” She hands my phone back and runs a hand through her hair, then messily sips from her glass. She pretends to forget all about Ryan, but I’m well aware she’s just hurting right now. She’s getting tipsy; her typical indication coming next, “Ugh. I’m so horny I could die.”
Hailee loves talking about sex when she’s drinking. It’s just a strange trigger for her, I guess.
She successfully installs the app and goes to town, smiling down at her phone like a deranged sex addict looking for her next victim. We all deal with our pain in different ways, I suppose.
“Look at this dude.” She laughs. “His bio says, ‘I suck at real life relationships so fuck it, let’s try this shit.’ At least he’s honest.” She shrugs. “Woah. This guy.” She reads his bio out loud to me. “‘Male. Thirty-five. I already have a wife. I want a girlfriend. Serious inquiries only.’ Jesus Christ on a cross.” She immediately swipes left.
I absentmindedly swipe through a sea of men’s smiling faces to appease tipsy Hailee. Washboard abs and selfies with puppies fill my phone screen. I’m more interested in The Bachelor episode we were supposed to be watching; it’s definitely second best to The Bachelorette, but I’ll take it. I’m so tuned in to the show that I don’t notice my phone fall out of my hand. In a daze, I reach for it on the floor and when I turn it over in my palm, pressing home, I gasp and it falls back to the floor.
Hailee jumps. “Shit! You scared the hell out of me!”
She must have been daydreaming a little too hard about things I don’t want to know about.
“What are you on about, anyway? I was just typing a message to a drop dead gorgeous Australian transplant. You know how much I love accents!” She giggles.
I pick my phone up off the ground for a second time, stunned. My body is warm, and I wonder if I’m seeing things correctly or if this wine is laced with a hallucinogen.
Hailee yanks my phone from my hand and peers down at it. “You. Have. Got. To. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.” She pauses between each word to add emphasis on the fact that she’s losing her mind in the same way I am.
We both sit in silence, staring at my screen, as River’s scruffy sexy face stares back at us, green emerald eyes and a chiseled jaw. Something about the way he’s gazing deep into the camera makes me feel some kind of way. Indescribable. Those damn eyes.
Hailee is the first to speak. “You have to swipe right. Let’s message him.” She looks at me, waiting for an answer.
“Fuck, no! No, no, no. That is a terrible idea.” I shake my head and try to pull my phone from her, both of us clutching it, white-knuckled as if we’ve seen a ghost.
“Terrible idea? If I remember correctly, you loved that man. And you had another chance with him and you didn’t call him back. Even after what you described to me as mind-blowing sex. I can’t—”
I interrupt her with, “Of course you remember the sex, you perv,” then I laugh and relax momentarily. “I never called River, I know. I wasn’t ready for anything then.” I don’t dare rip my eyes from the screen. I miss him.
“Okay, but you are now! What are you waiting for?” she squeals.
“I probably broke his heart or pissed him off. Or hell, maybe both.” My heart aches in my chest. I had done my best to push thoughts of River away, to convince myself I needed to move on from the men—the ghosts—of my past. I chose to walk away from River, from Brady, from anyone I cared about that had hurt me.
Hailee’s eyes shift from excited to empathetic in seconds. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
Just as I’m about to tell her that tonight is about her, and that we can find her a dude to relieve her womanly issues, she swipes one single finger to the right on my screen, sealing my fate and in turn making the wine I just downed threaten to come back up.
“Hailee fucking Henley!” I half-scream, half-cry the plea. “What did you just do?” I grab at my phone, securing it and bringing it to my chest. “No! You didn’t. Doesn’t that mean it notifies him? Fuck! Hailee!” My cry turns to anger because I do not want to send myself spiraling back down the black hole that is River. I don’t want to get hurt. I love him too damn much. Loved. I loved him way too damn much. Past tense.
She smiles innocently—a smile that has gotten her out of numerous traffic tickets, late assignments in school, and being grounded by her father.
“That shit doesn’t work with me, Hailee. Take it back right now. Get back to that picture and swipe to the left, or whatever. Do what you need to do so River doesn’t see me on there.” I think about how embarrassing it is that I’m on this shitty dating app to begin with, and now, he’s going to know. I don’t want anything serious. I have too much going on with my next book release. The deadlines are killing me. I can’t afford to get distracted by River. And with me and River, it’s usually either all in or nothing at all. It’s just easier for my sanity to have the latter, to have no part of him.
She reaches over to me and pulls me in, squeezing me tight. “This is exactly what I need.” She sits back, looking at me with her icy blues. “My best friend, champagne, and an activity to take my mind off the joke that my life has become.” She smiles softly, and this time, I return it.