Theoretically Speaking

Chapter Five

The following day, I met Eddie at the same mall that I met Gregg. Maybe if I were superstitious, I would have realized that I was almost begging for history to repeat itself. But no – I was so focused on my plan that it didn’t even occur to me.

When I arrived, Eddie was already waiting for me at the very same table I’d chosen with Gregg. I told myself to ignore this. It wasn’t the table that had turned Gregg into a walking gas chamber.

“Hi,” I said, giving a tentative wave as I came to a stop at the table.

A large smile answered. He stood up. “Beth.”

“Aeryn,” I corrected. “Beth is my middle name.” I pulled the chair out and sat down. He followed suit.

“Is Beth your mom’s name?”

“Her sister’s. Elizabeth.”

“Well, I like your names.”

I smiled. My shoulders relaxed. A gentleman – had I really hit the jackpot? I mean, Vince was still The One, but Eddie was no Gregg. He was sporting a blond buzz cut, which had me focusing on his soft green eyes. His shoulders were broad, square, and looked awfully good under his grey sweater. And he was at least five inches taller than me. Jackpot. Definitely jackpot.

“So,” I said. “What do you do?” As it turned out, Eddie was about to graduate college, and would be heading to Penn, where his parents would be paying for his masters degree. Financially secure? Checked. Bachelor’s degree? Checked. Older, mature and smart? Definitely checked. Knows how to control bodily functions? Thankfully, checked.

We bought some food and continued to get to know each other. The more he talked, the more excited I became – the list was getting checked, one point after the other. It was like magic. It was beautiful. It was like the skies had opened up and let down the most expensive, most refined wine just for me. Or money. Money would be quite helpful right now.

Eddie was a health freak with two older brothers and a pair of younger twin sisters. He didn’t have a dimple or even a British accent, but had visited every continent. The things he told me had me so giddy that I found myself blurting out the one question I’d promised myself to keep inside.

“An aversion to what?” he asked, pushing his fork in his mouth.

My eyes widened. Oh, gosh. Had I really just asked that? But he continued chewing, as if he hadn’t heard me. “To t-trees,” I stammered. “An aversion to trees.”

 “An aversion to trees?”

Oh, gosh. It sounded worse than the tampons. I wanted to die. I looked down at my half-eaten pasta salad. Eddie was the best guy I’d come across through the website. He actually fit nearly half of the list. This had to mean something, right? Taking a deep breath, I told myself to blurt it out. “Actually, I meant an aversion to tampons.” My voice was small, barely audible.

Yet Eddie managed to catch every word. Or so I concluded when he suddenly choked on his food. His fork dropped on the plate and he started coughing, then quickly tried to compose himself, muffling the coughs in his fist. When he finally stopped, he took a sip from his water bottle, then looked at me. Oddly enough, his face didn’t hold that half-shocked, half-scared expression I’d received over the years as guys debated on whether I was voodoo-dolls weird or they-should-fear-for-their-lives crazy. Instead, he looked…amused. Fascinated.

“Is that the make-it or break-it question in one of your How To Choose a Guy articles?”

“What?”

“Those articles in those girl magazines.” This was another thing I loved about Eddie – his use of ‘girl’ instead of ‘chick’. Clearly he knew the difference between a human being of the female variety and a yellow baby bird that couldn’t fly.