“Chase Cooper doesn’t fucking run unless he’s being paid to. He hates it. You’ve also never once been up before I wake you up. Never. Not since high school, bro.”
“Not true. I was up last Tuesday.”
“My dude, the nights you can’t sleep don’t count because we don’t end up working out most of those days.”
“Heeth gop a bate,” Devin says around his toothbrush as he comes out of the kitchen. He’s hungover even though he’s got a game today, so that’s going to go well. He looks up from a box of cereal he’s reading and sees the dumb look Steve gives him, walks back in, rinses his mouth out, and tries again. “He’s got a date.”
“Dude, did you spit out your toothpaste inmykitchen?” I swear this guy is ten sometimes.
“Uh, I started in my bathroom but I got hungry, so I kind of walked over here while I brushed my teeth?”
“Use the guest bathroom!”
“Both of you, shut up!” Steve’s head turns toward me dramatically, and I brace myself for what’s coming. “Adate?With awoman?Arealwoman? An actual date with a human being?”
“Yes. Well, I mean, sort of on the date part. She’s a real person, and it’s not for a role or a bit.”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, the Jessica ordeal was a lot. But Abby? Bro, you just got over her like yesterday. Also, you are, hands down, the shittiest Hollywood playboy I’ve ever known.”
“Yeah, dude. Your dating life is pretty shit,” my brother reminds me as he pours the cereal into the bowl, and realizes he doesn’t have enough hands to eat it while holding the box and bowl. “Fuck.”
I want to argue that this woman is different, but the thing is, I don’t know if she is. How can I? I try to think of anything else to say, but I can’t counter their points. Iama terrible playboy because I care too damn much, and describing my dating life as shit is accurate. Neither of them is wrong.
I almost found myself engaged to Jessica out of sheer stupidity. The media and the internet latched onto the internet idea of a fake relationship, claiming my agency set us up for publicity. Fucking trolls. We dated for a few years, traveled all over the place together, and everything felt amazing. I thought I couldn’t be happier. Until she cheated on me with some guy she met at our gym. Steve helped me build the home gym after that.
I went through another epic fail with Abby. We met at a club Steve took me to, and for once I wanted to make it work. Two weeks later, Abby lit that hope on fire, stomped on it to put it out, poured salt over it, and finished by poking it with a stick. She left a note on the mirror one morning saying she used me to get a part in some shitty film school movie. She even tried to get back with me when the movie bombed. Sometimes she still sends me these strange gifts, but never puts her real name on them. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who left me the marriage license the other day.
Just once it would be nice to have a normal, civilized breakup, but those are never in the cards for me.
There’s one name neither Steve nor Devin mention because they know it’s the one that still hurts. Cassie. She taught me how to love, or at least, that’s what I thought she did. She had an incredible personality, tons of friends, top of her class, and beyond smart. She had everything she wanted until I came along and ruined her life. Wherever I go, so goes the media—internet, trolls, even so-called fans. Every one of those vultures drooled over the fresh meat, picking her clean every chance they had. She had dreams of moving out of the city, raising a big family, and enjoying some privacy when we got together. I should have known better.
“Look, it’s not even an actual date. It’s more of a…hang out.”
“She hasn’t called you back, has she?” Devin asks.
What if they’re right? What if I’ve built this up to be something it’s not to make myself feel better? What if she ends up being like all the others and I’m only doing this because I’m a lonely loser?
“No,” My shoulders sink, and I’m right on the edge of overthinking this to the point of canceling everything.
“Where are you taking her?” Steve asks quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watches Pongo walk over to me, nudging my hand.
I sigh and pat Pongo’s head, assuring him I’m okay, as I mumble, “Magic Castle. I had to call in a few favors to make it happen on short notice like this.”
“Seriously? Fuck!” Steve has me in a bear hug before I can even register what’s happening. “That, my friend, makes it a fucking date. Get your ass in the gym. I need details!Youdon’t take justanyonethere!”
* * *
I’m on my last set in my gym, sweating my ass off and wishing I could be anywhere but here.
“Get it! Two more, man!” Steve yells. Some days, I wish he stayed in law school instead of dropping out before taking the bar and getting his certification to be a personal trainer.
My phone rings and both our heads turn toward it, watching it buzz across a table. Steve jumps for it, grabbing it before I can and holding it behind his back so I can’t see the ID.
“Come on, fucker! Finish the set and I’ll give your phone back.”
I push through the set with the last of my strength, drop the weights, and hold a shaking arm out for the phone. Unknown caller. It could be her, though.
“Yeah?” I answer, still out of breath. I’m already prepared to end the call in a hurry if some idiot who paid for my number answers me.
