Written - A Flash Fiction Trilogy

You Jump, I Jump

"The problem is that you're never going to meet anyone drinking wine on your couch," Amanda lamented before taking a long sip of her wine.

"The problem is that no decent men are left in Deson," I corrected.

"That's not true!" Amanda immediately protested.

"Spoken by the girl that's going home to the angelic Chris. He's sweet, he's smart, he's funny, and he's taken," I lamented.

"He's so taken," Amanda agreed as her mind whirled to her fiancé. "But even if you found your Chris, you'd sabotage it, anyway."

"What are you talking about? That's rude!"

"Oh, Carly, you find faults in every guy to date," Amanda challenged.

"I don't find faults; their faults exist. I choose not to deal with them." I tried to stifle my annoyance with an extra-large gulp of wine.

"Mmhmm," Amanda annoyingly hummed.

"It's true," I moaned, not wanting to go down this rabbit hole again.

"Let's discuss your recent suitors, shall we?" Recounting my failed relationships was one of Amanda's favorite pastimes.

"Must we? Can't I drink my wine in peace?"

"No, if you're going to be a shut-in, it's my job to make sure you're aware of your choice." Her mind whirled through where to begin, distracting her voice. "Let's start with Charlie. He was a sweet doctor that was entirely smitten with you."

"But he had floppy ears like Dumbo. Honestly, when we walked down the street, I was constantly in awe that a light breeze wouldn't catch those ears and pull him away like an errant balloon."

"You're ridiculous. He was adorable."

"Agree to disagree." I crossed my arms and sagged deeper into the couch, hoping my posture would exude how much I wasn't enjoying this conversation.

"Okay, let's go to Colin then. You can't argue that he wasn't gorgeous; he was an actual model." Amanda's eyebrows rose as though she were saying checkmate.

"Yeah, but he took longer in the bathroom than I did. I can't be with someone with a longer skincare routine than me." I shrugged.

"Okay, Matt? What was wrong with Matt?"

"He licked his fingers," dropped from my lips.

"I'm sorry, what?" Amanda giggled.

"He licked his fingers. Like if he were eating something, he'd lick his fingers and then use a napkin. It was gross."

"That's a normal thing to do."

"Ew, no, it's not. I mean, it was bad enough when he was eating like a burger or something and would do it, but when we were sharing popcorn, and he'd lick his fingers and then go back for more," a dry heave rolled from deep within me from just the thought of it. "Nope, can't do it. He had to go."

"So, you would be," Amanda demurely paused, "intimate with him, but a little spit on his fingers and the line is crossed."

"Hey, I have my pet peeves, and you have yours. I don't judge you."

Amanda almost spat out her wine. "I'm sorry, after that display of judginess, you're now claiming that you don't judge."

"Oh, you know what I mean. I just haven't met the right guy. I want to lock eyes with someone and know he'll die clinging to a door rather than risk tipping me into the water."

"So, you want a suicidal card shark from the 1910s?" Amanda cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, is that so much to ask?"

"I suppose not, but just promise me one thing...."

"Yes," I prodded.

"Don't go on a cruise for your honeymoon," she giggled.

"You're the worst," I groaned as I threw a pillow at her.

"Easy there. You can be mad at me all you want, but there's no need to put my wine in harm's way!"

Amanda left as the credits to Casablanca rolled. Despite it being late in the evening, I wasn't near sleep. I flicked through my streaming options, but nothing appealed. The only movie that would do was Titanic. Ever since Amanda's ribbing earlier in the night, I knew I'd need to watch it soon.

I pulled myself from the couch and shifted through my dusty DVD collection until I spotted Titanic and tugged with too much force, causing the DVD next to it to spill to the floor. I didn't think too much for a split second, but then I realized it was not a DVD. It was a long-forgotten notebook. I flipped it open to see the jagged edge of where I had ripped a page out years ago and smiled. My rational side knew that writing in this notebook had no hand in me landing my dream job that afforded me the successful career I enjoyed today, but as my finger floated over the paper, my brain itched for a pen.

I sat on the couch, looking at the empty page. As I reached for the pen, my mind pulled it to my wineglass instead. I took a large gulp and set the glass down without breaking my stare at the blank paper.

"I'm ridiculous," I laughed before picking up the pen.

I took a deep breath and wrote, 'I'll meet the person who overwhelms me with love and live happily ever after' six times. Then I tucked the notebook away and settled in to watch Titanic.

The movie must have still been on my mind the following day as the barista at the café asked for my name, and I instinctively said, Rose.

"Jack," the barista called behind the counter a few minutes later. Then, a smile crossed her face as she added, "and Rose, of course."

A handsome man reached for his coffee as I approached for my own. With an alluring grin, he leaned in close to my ear and asked, "you jump, I jump, right?"