Ready or Not

Chapter 9

When you wake up on Monday morning, you are plagued with nausea and a blinding headache. You think, "I should not have had that second whiskey. Shit!" You grab yourself a few tabs of ibuprofen and down it with some orange juice. "Ugh.... I wish I could just go back to bed." But you get ready for school and trudge your way to your first class. You are only halfway present. You feel a little better and are able to be more engaged in your second class. Fortunately, you don't have any students on Mondays, but you have three that you need to tutor tomorrow. Marissa is one of them. Something about her just doesn't sit well with you, but you cannot put your finger on it. You hope that in the next couple of sessions, you can get a better feel for her and see if you can figure out what is going on with her. You think, "Once I get a bit more background information on her, maybe I can bend Eric's ear about her." You make a mental note about that.

After your second and last class for the day, you walk out into a chilly autumn afternoon. You see that the leaves are starting to fall more and more. You decide to walk down the bike path in the park. The path is now covered in leaves of every color and when you step on them, they make these satisfying crunching sounds. You think, "I absolutely love this time of year. I wish I could live in a place where it could be autumn all year around." When you come to a big pile of leaves, like the child that you are, you kick it, sending leaves going every which way. That makes you smile. Another five minutes of walking down the bike path, you feel your coat pocket buzzing. You pull out your phone and see that it is another message from the dating app. Your phone screen unlocks, and you tap on the icon that corresponds to the dating app. You open your profile and tap the message section. At this point, you have well over a hundred messages, none of which you've answered. Tapping open the most recently sent message, you read the content.

Hi, I was mindlessly swiping on this app and came across your picture. I thought I saw some mischief in those eyes of yours, so I decided to swipe right and send you a message. I am sure you've received hundreds and hundreds of messages from all kinds of men thus far. Who doesn't like a woman with a pretty face, right? Well, I would like to find out a little more about the mischief in your eyes. So, if your mood strikes, please send me a reply.

Something about this message piques your interest. A man that saw mischief in your eyes. That is interesting. You think, "Instead of looking for interest in men that don't think of you as anything more than a fuck buddy or a nanny to pay attention to him and help him nap, why not give a man that is actually showing interest in you a try. First, you decide to check out his profile. It says that his name is Austin and that he is twenty-eight years old. The profile says he is 6'3". He has about 12 to 15 pictures on his profile. His pictures show him engaged in different types of sports, like biking, indoor volleyball, rock wall climbing, etc. A couple of them look like they were taken at a wedding, and at a party. He seems to be in great physical shape. You see that he has very dark brown or almost black hair with eyes as blue as the ocean. You think, "Oh... like Superman." Good teeth, full head of hair and an easy smile. A computer engineer with a master's degree. Austin seems great on paper. With some cautious excitement you decide to reply to this message.

Hello there. You saw mischief in my eyes? I think I am going to need you to explain yourself a little more. Oh, and I like the effortless compliment you through in there too. So, if you are open to explaining what you mean when you say you saw mischief in my eyes, let me know.

You close out the app and put the phone back in your pocket. For whatever reason, you feel a glimmer of hope regarding not having to live the rest of your life as a single person. Feeling a bit chilled to the bone, you decide to go to the coffee shop for a hot drink. When you get there, the morning rush is clearly gone, but the lunch time crowd seems to be starting to come in. You order a vanilla latte, light and sweet, and take a small bistro table near the front window facing the street. You indulge yourself in some people-watching and your hot drink. The first sip warms your insides and you let out a contented sigh. As you take your second sip, your phone buzzes in your coat. Sticking your hand in your pocket, you retrieve your phone to see that Austin had replied to your message already. You think, "Is eagerness in this kind of situation a good thing or a bad thing?" You click on your message tab and open up the reply.