12 Dates of Christmas

12 Dates?

A best friend shouldn't keep things from you. A best friend shouldn't make secret fake profiles of you. A best friend shouldn't make a secret fake profile of you on a dating website. A best friend shouldn't use a secret fake profile on a dating website to get you twelve different consecutive dates. A best friend shouldn't make you go on 12 consecutive dates with guys she met through said secret fake dating website right before Christmas.

Angela was a crappy best friend. And she just so happened to be my crappy best friend... and roommate.

"I am going to actually murder you. Slowly. So that you feel immense amounts of pain," I said through clenched teeth.

"C'mon, Rose, it'll be fun. They're all super cute and one of them could be the one!" Angela insisted, for what had to be the hundredth time.

I groaned, falling back onto my couch, hands falling over my face as if not seeing Angela's face somehow meant that this wasn't actually happening.

"Maybe she's right. It could be fun, I guess," was the very unhelpful and undesired response of James, Angela's older brother who spent so much time in the apartment, he might as well be our third roommate.

I peeked through in between my fingers and glared at him, attempting to will his head to burst into flames. It didn't work.

"I don't see why I have to do anything. You're single, too, Ang." I was grasping at straws, looking for any reason to not follow through with this ridiculous plan she concocted.

"But I already have a date this weekend. And I love you, but honey, you haven't been on a date in over a year," was her stupidly reasonable response.

"Ugh. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

"So, is that a yes?"

I groaned, something she took as compliance, and flung myself back against the couch.