Life Happens | ONC 2024

Chapter 7

BLANCHE

An entire week has passed and still no sign of Lex.

The one who's been communicative, however, is Olivia. She's been hounding me with messages about her crush and how to approach certain situations to make herself stand out at work and catch his interest.

I've been responding out of obligation. Stupid big mouth of mine to promise stuff that would be hard to deliver.

The girl is certainly desperate, and I've, in a way, felt sorry for her. Lex hasn't dated a lot, and if he did, they were never really serious, because his gaming habits concurred with date hours. Normally, women didn't want to compete for attention and time with computer animated avatars.

And although I've thought all this time that he didn't have much experience, he blew my world from its socks when we had sex.

A warm fuzzy feeling overcomes me, and I take a moment to catch my breath from all the memories that invade my mind. Dread takes over as I try to smother the want blooming inside of me. Next time that I feel these butterflies in my stomach, I'm chugging down a bottle of whatever liquor I have in the kitchen so they drown.

"He-o!" Marisol shouts, waving her hands in front of my eyes. "Where are you, Blanquita? Are you still here with us on earth?"

"Ha, ha," I answer drily.

I'm normally much more cheerful, but lately it looks like I've been putting too much sour cream in my blueberry muffins. And Marisol is starting to notice something is up.

"Are you already thinking about the date this evening?" Marisol questions, putting a freshly piped butterscotch cupcake into her mouth.

Right. The Tinder thing date.

When I had my conversation with Olivia, I forced myself to follow my own ill-advice and I installed the dating app on my phone under the watchful eye of Marisol, who was giddy with the prospects of me throwing myself back out in the dating pool.

I should learn to chew a few times on my words before getting myself into this unnecessary trouble. I ain't even ready to plunge my toes into a shallow kiddies basin. Even with floaters secured under my armpits and all.

"Mmm," I mumble noncommittally, trying to not spill my guts.

"There wasn't much to choose from," Marisol says. "But this guy did look yummy on his profile pic, and you both swiped right almost instantly."

Marisol's trying really hard to be positive for me, but she knows that being from a small town dwindles our possibilities a lot in the meager available market. It is a hard thing, getting back on the horse in the social media age of dating.

My parents told me stories about how they met at one of the town's fairs, and I still think it's so romantic. The serendipity of the moment, two souls finding each other in the most unlikely of places.

Now you have to judge a picture and go off on a bio alone. Unfortunately, most people on these apps are only looking to have a good time, if you know what I mean, and never text or call again. Not if they can help it.

Marisol is regarding me, hopefully. Her last few hook ups after her divorce from the number one douchebag this town has to offer have been a disappointment after disappointment. Dating with kids is daunting, and most men recoil at the responsibility.

And then you have the guys my age. Some of them are former high school classmates that didn't go to college and got stuck with the family businesses. The ones that did go returned home with a city girl on their arms.