Tag Archives: single

Chapter 2–Walk It Off

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 Emma changed into her sweats and grabbed her copy of Pride and Prejudice and drove to the park. She always took a book with her when meeting up with people, in case she got there early—which she almost always did. Elizabeth Bennett was about to berate Mr. Darcy for his arrogance when Abby pulled into the parking spot next to Emma for their semi-regular Saturday morning walk.

            “How many times are you going to read that? What is this, like the 5th time since I’ve known you?” Abby asked when Emma got out of the car.

            “Well, it’s a really good book.  And, besides, Lizzie is an inspiration,” Emma said defensively. “I find her company uplifting.”  They approached the edge of Emma’s favorite trail which wound through the woods along the lake’s edge, emerged into the park, and then circled around to a small marina and beach area. “She’s confident and sure of who she is without being cocky.  I suppose it gives me hope that love finds her unexpectedly, without her having to parade herself about like the other women in her community.”

            “I see,” said Abby. “I’ve never seen you throwing yourself at anyone either. Sounds like she’s a kindred spirit.”

“Hmm, on second thought, maybe I need a different inspiration,” Emma quipped. “This whole cool and confident thing doesn’t seem to be working out so well or me.”

Abby laughed. “I don’t know, it sounds like it served you well at Deb’s wedding. Andrew said you handled it quite nicely.”

            ” It wasn’t as bad as I expected. She didn’t even have a bouquet toss.”

            “God bless her,” Abby remarked with exaggerated sincerity.

            “I know. There’s nothing worse than being rounded up like a collection of unclaimed baggage for auction.  And then, you have to watch some perfectly toned 16-year-old catch the bouquet.  If she’s the next one to get married, I’m really in trouble!” Emma laughed, but not very convincingly.

            “It’s just a silly tradition. It doesn’t actually predict anything, you know,” Abby chuckled.

            “Just the same, I think brides over a certain age shouldn’t submit their peers to the spectacle.”

            “Or, they could just put in an age limit. Only single girls over 25,” Abby suggested.

            “Right,” Emma scornfully snorted. “With my luck, I’d be the only one out there and I still wouldn’t catch it.”

            “So, was there any awkwardness with the reception?”

            “Yeah, but it was just the usual—stupefied shock that an eligible girl in the big city should still be single.  Andrew helped to deflect some of the attention.” Emma wondered if Andrew had told Abby about the car ride home. She had decided that she wouldn’t say anything if he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure how much of his dating life he’d shared with Abby.

            “Oh, did he? He can be pretty good at rescuing people in hot water.” Abby smiled reminiscently. “He’s come to my aid many times over the years with mom and dad. So, it wasn’t lonely? That was my goal. I was a little afraid that appearing to be on a date might be worse than being alone.”  Abby knew that Emma got a little depressed driving home from weddings.

            “Yeah. I was afraid of that, too. But someone appears to have tipped everyone off to the fact that he was your stand-in before we got there. Thanks for that,” Emma nudged Abby gratefully. “I forgot how easy Andrew is to be around. He’s quite the conversationalist. It was almost as good as having you there.”

            “Well, I’m glad. But tell me the truth, did you cry when you got home?”

            Emma groaned in disgust at herself. “Yes, but not until later that night. I thought I had successfully avoided crying altogether, but when I pulled out my journal before bed, it just came out of nowhere. Then I felt stupid for crying, which only made it worse, of course. I wound up crying about the fact that I was crying.”

            Abby put her arm around Emma’s waist as they walked and cupped her chin around Emma’s shoulder. “It’s not stupid,” she said quietly but firmly. “It’s totally normal. All girls cry over weddings.”

            “Sure, tears of joy. I never feel like crying at the wedding because I’m so happy for my friends and proud to share the moment with them. The joy is sort of contagious. It’s only afterwards, when I leave that moment behind, that I feel empty—almost like I’m more aware of being alone than I was before. But it’s so pointless and full of self-pity that I feel ridiculous for it. I should just be happy for them and let it be enough.”

            “I think it is enough for you, Em. You’re able to rejoice with your friends when they’re rejoicing—so much so that you don’t even notice your own pain until later.. Of course, you will have your own feelings, too, and that’s normal.”

            “I think I would be perfectly content if I knew that someday I would know what it feels like to love someone that much. It’s having no concrete hope that hurts. I can live patiently and contentedly on hope. I have for a decade or more, but I’m beginning to run out of hope.”

            “Oh don’t say that!” Abby hated hearing Emma talk like this. Emma had always been strong, independent, and confident girl with her eyes fixed on personal growth and serving others. She’d never seemed to struggle much with being single until about a year ago. Abby suspected that Emma’s upcoming 30th birthday had a lot to do with it. They emerged from the trees to the park. The picnic tables were still empty, but a few young children were being pushed on the swing set by their mothers, and a couple of joggers were running towards them from the other side of the park. “He’s out there somewhere; I know he is. You’ll fall in love someday, and it will be a meaningful, deep relationship. I know it.”

            “You mean you hope for it,” Emma replied without much emotion. “You can’t really know it, though, can you?”

            “Well, alright then,” Abby conceded. “I fully expect that it will happen. I can feel it in my bones.”

            “Maybe you’re right. I’m just afraid that, even if it does happen, I’ll be too old to enjoy it.” The two joggers passed them on the sidewalk—a young man and woman who appeared to be a couple, both wearing earphones and perfectly matching each other’s pace and breathing. Emma watched them as they passed and wondered what it would be like to be so close to someone that you could be in sync like that even without talking—like one unit.

            “Emma!” Abby protested and brought her back to the conversation. “You’re not old! You’re the same age as me!”

            “I know, but it’s different when you’re single. I realized something at Debbie’s wedding. I’m never going to know what it’s like to be married in my 20’s—a young, married couple. I may not be old, but I’ve already missed out on sharing my youth with someone.”  This was more than Emma had admitted out loud before, and her voice grew quiet at the end of the sentence.

            “Hey, you’re young at heart. And you still have some youth left to share with someone. He just has to find you first is all.” Abby patted Emma’s arm.

            Emma looked out over the lake at the sunlight glinting off the water. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said to appease Abby. “Isn’t the lake beautiful? It’s so calming. I love the water.” They had reached the point in the conversation where she always had to stop. She could only share her struggle with singleness up to a certain point with people because anyone who had married before 30 just couldn’t relate.

            Emma had never let herself dwell on her singleness before. It had seemed so wasteful to focus on what she didn’t have. But seemingly out of nowhere, it had just snuck up on her: THIRTY. Now that it was only a few months away, all the thoughts she hadn’t let herself dwell on for the past decade were making up for lost time. Her 20’s were over. She couldn’t get them back. It was almost like a death of sorts. Whenever she had imagined her wedding day (on the rare occasion that she let herself) or her first few years of marriage, she had always seen herself in her mid to late 20’s. And now they were over, and she wasn’t even dating. Suddenly, the last 10 years looked bleak, pathetic, and wasted. They hadn’t felt that way at the time, but she had suddenly awakened to find a stark, harsh truth—She was alone. She had spent her 20’s alone, and it seemed she would spend her 30’s the same way. Nothing she had invested her life in for the past decase was going to stay with her, and no one would remember it know how it shaped her. Abby couldn’t understand that. It was better to just keep some things to herself. She had let a select few people know she was struggling, but they didn’t have to know how much.

            “Anyway, how is Jackson doing? I forgot to ask.” Emma asked after a few seconds of silence, to change the subject.

            “Oh, much better! The doctor said he just needs to avoid heavy lifting and strenuous activity for a few weeks until the bone heals. It was only a minor fracture. So, he’s sticking to the treadmill for a while.”

            “I guess we won’t be playing volleyball on Friday, then.” Abby had scheduled her monthly “family dinner” for the following week, which normally included Emma and a few other friends from their college gang, who were all married to each other now. Andrew was a recent addition since he had moved to Atlanta for work last fall.

            “Nope. I figured we’d just play board games instead.”

            “Sounds good to me. Just as long as we don’t play Monopoly again. I don’t’ have the stamina to wait for Jackson to buy me out.”

            Abby giggled. Once in college they had played Monopoly, and the game had lasted three hours! Jackson was far too competitive to call a game before it was actually over.  Emma had even tried donating her properties to Jackson’s conquest. He had, of course, insisted on “legally” buying everyone out of their holdings.

            Soon, they were back at the parking lot. Emma felt invigorated and much more awake. “See you Friday, then,” she said. “Tell Jackson I’m glad he’s not seriously hurt.”

            “Okay. Have a good weekend,” Abby called back.

Emma tried hard not to think about turning 30 the whole drive home, and by the time she pulled into her driveway, she had successfully convinced herself that she was only 29 still. Maybe the exercise endorphins were helping.

Chapter 1–He’s Not My Date

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by S. N. Martin

Having sorted through the morning’s paperwork, Emma decided to take a cell phone break. She had one new email from Abby entitled “don’t hate me.” What in the world? thought Emma as she opened the message.
Pleeeze don’t hate me, it began. We can’t go to Debbie’s wedding on Saturday. Jackson fractured his collar bone climbing yesterday, and he’s basically homebound for a while it heals. I have to stay here and look after him. But, don’t worry, Andy is still coming. I’m SO sorry to do this to you. I PROMISE I’ll make it up to you somehow. Emma groaned and got up to close her office door. She tried to remind herself that her primary concern should be Jackson’s injury and not the upcoming wedding, as she dialed Abby on her cell phone.
“Hello?” Abby sounded her chipper self, but slightly tired.
“Hey. I got your message,” Emma said, trying to sound as not disappointed as possible.
“Oh, Em! I would have called you, but we were at the hospital pretty late, and then we had to go the pharmacy, and get food, and call the family…By the time we got settled, we were so exhausted and—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emma interrupted, forcing herself to focus on Abby and ignore the wedding. “How’s Jackson?” she asked genuinely. “Is he in terrible pain? What’s the prognosis?”
“Oh, he’s fine. He’s on some prescription pain killers, so he’s not too uncomfortable. But, they do make him groggy and he’s not supposed to move much. The doctor thinks he’ll heal quickly, but you know what a baby he is when he has to sit still. We have another appointment next week to check on his progress once the swelling has gone down.”
“I’m so sorry, Abs. You must have been scared to death for him.” Emma remembered the last incident, when Jackson had nearly torn his ACL on a trip with his college buddies, who had stupidly called Abby while Jackson was still moaning in the background. Emma and Abby had left Cirque de Soleil mid-show so that Abby could stay on the phone with Jackson until the doctor had seen him.
“Well, it’s not the first time we’ve been in the emergency room. At least this time he was smart and didn’t tell me he was hurt until they got back home from the park, and I could see he wasn’t horribly mangled or anything.”
Emma rolled her eyes and stifled a disapproving sigh. She knew she should feel sorry for Jackson. She loved Jackson. After all, he was like a brother to her; he helped her out all the time, and he was a terrific husband to Abby. But, did he have to keep up his dangerous, college hobbies like rock climbing and white water rafting? And why did he always seem to get injured when she and Abby had something special planned?
“Anyway, we’re really both fine,” Abby continued. “Just tired from waking up every few hours to give him his pain meds.”
“You should try to get some sleep this afternoon.” Emma realized this was a totally obvious and unhelpful suggestion as she was saying it. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, equally unhelpfully.
“No, no, but thanks.” Abby didn’t seem to notice Emma’s cliché responses. “I just feel so terrible about Saturday. Andy offered to drive if you want.”
“No, no. I tend to get carsick, remember? I’ll drive. I’m just sorry you have to miss it,” Emma lied. She could think of nothing but endless repetitions of, Oh, Emma, who’s this?! I didn’t know you were seeing someone! The only thing more unbearable than everyone obviously avoiding the subject of her singleness was the humiliating exuberance of those who falsely assumed she had finally joined the ranks of mainstream humanity.
“You can introduce him as your adopted little brother,” Abby suggested sheepishly, guessing at Emma’s chagrin.
“Yeah,” Emma snorted, “right after everyone trips over each other to fawn over my new love interest.” She sighed. “Oh well. Don’t worry; I can handle it. I’m the champion single girl, right? But I am not going up for the bouquet toss!” Emma finished with her characteristically playful sarcasm. She always used this crutch when she felt put on the spot for being single or thought people suspected she wasn’t as tough as she appeared.
“Good for you!” Abby laughed, apparently satisfied that Emma was undaunted. “Well, call me when you get back and tell me everything. And take lots of pictures.”
“Will do,” Emma promised. “Tell Jackson I hope he feels better soon. Bye.”
“Bye, dear.”
Emma heard Abby’s line cut off and hung up her own phone, releasing another groan. Saturday had just become her worst nightmare. Couldn’t Jackson break something serious, like a tailbone, so she could claim obligation to remain behind for moral support? Maybe if she spent a lot of time in the nurse’s office and didn’t wash her hands for the next two days, she would come down with something. Hmm. Probably not. It was the week before final exams and most students had too much adrenaline from anticipating summer vacation to be sick.

She was just going to have to figure out a way to dispel any assumptions about Andrew as she introduced him. Hey, y’all! Do you know Abby’s baby brother, Andrew? Emma rehearsed mentally. Hey, did I mention he’s single? So, if you see any 24-year-olds in need of a dance partner at the reception… Ugh. She would simultaneously look like a hopeless spinster and a maternal matchmaker. Emma made a mental note to swear off all weddings in the future, unless she was a bridesmaid. She decided to e-mail Andrew rather than call him about the arrangements for Saturday. She didn’t feel up to a chipper conversation.

When Emma arrived at Andrew’s apartment on Saturday, he was already waiting outside. She chuckled a little at the sight of his disheveled hair and the tie draped across his shoulders. No suit jacket, she observed. He looked more like a college kid than an eligible date for a 29-year old career woman. Maybe people wouldn’t jump to conclusions after all, or at least not everyone. “Hey, Andrew,” Emma said cheerfully as he placed Abby’s wedding gift in the back seat.
“Hey. Nice dress,” he replied climbing into the front seat.
“Thanks. Nice tie,” Emma raised her eyebrows slightly and flashed her playful, sarcastic grin.
“Oh, yeah. Well, I didn’t see the point in choking for an extra hour in the car. We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” he explained as he buckled his seat belt and ran a hand through his tousled curls.
“Hmm. I’ll have to remember that strategy for my high heels next time,” Emma replied casually. “You do know how to tie that thing, right? ‘Cause I’ll be no help.” She smirked out the front windshield as they approached the road.
“Yes. Do you know how to walk in those?” Andrew replied in kind.
“Only for about an hour,” Emma chuckled. “Then it becomes more of a hobble.”
The drive to Gainesville passed quickly. Andrew was always at ease with himself, and they played music between casual conversations. It really wasn’t that difficult to see Andrew as an adopted younger brother. He felt almost as much like family as Jackson did, even though she’d known him for a fraction of the time she’d known Abby and Jackson.

The wedding was beautiful. Emma had never seen Debbie so happy. Although she and Andrew did sit together, they were among a lot of other single people, so they didn’t necessarily look like a couple. Besides, Abby had already told several people about Jackson’s accident. Several guests greeted Andrew with, “You must be Abby’s brother. How’s Jackson doing?” This seemed to spread quickly through the rest of the college gang. Thank you, Emma prayed silently with a sigh of relief.
The reception was a little less painless, as expected. After half an hour or so of small talk, reliving college memories, and catching up on career and baby news, Dave decided to fill a pause with his typical oblivion to unwritten rules of etiquette. “So, Emma, are you dating anyone down in Atlanta?” he blurted out. Everyone at the table turned to Emma with a fairly convincing façade of casual interest, but she knew everyone was hanging on her answer.
“No, Dave. Not really.” Emma played with the icing on her plate, smiling thinly while she awaited the traditional, calloused follow-up.
“Why not? What are you waiting for? You’re perfectly eligible and you’re not getting any younger, you know.” The infuriating thing about Dave was that he truly didn’t catch on when someone politely brushed him off. He lacked the social grace of recognizing when someone was in an awkward position. Emma took a deep breath. “Aren’t there any eligible bachelors in Atlanta?”
“Probably, but most of the single guys I know are under 18. Christian school isn’t exactly a hot bed of eligible bachelors, and the guys my age in church are already married.” She threw in her playful smile on cue. “So there aren’t that many avenues to meet single people unless you resort to the stereotypical bar crawl, which isn’t exactly my scene.” Emma toyed with the idea of recording this on her cell phone to play back whenever the moment was called for. She was so tired of reciting this response to every dumbfounded idiot who got married straight out of college and couldn’t grasp the fact that there is no ready-made peer group anymore once you depart academia. Suddenly, Emma thought of a diversion. “Maybe I should ask Andrew for tips. He’s an Atlanta bachelor. How do you meet people, Andrew?” Success! All eyes turned to Andrew, who looked caught off guard slightly.
“Uh…” he began uncertainly. “Well, I’m not really sure. I mainly just hang out with my friends. There is a young adults group at our church, but no one there I’m really interested in. They’re mostly college students.”
“Yeah. That’s the case at my church, too,” Emma chipped in, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for putting Andrew on the spot.
“Guess the Internet’s the only viable option, then, unless we wanna rob the cradle,” Andrew quipped, prompting everyone to chuckle and change the subject. Yep, Andrew made a good younger brother.

“You know, no one’s looking. You can take them off now,” Andrew said as he and Emma made their way to her car.
“Huh?” she asked, turning to see Andrew removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. “Oh, the heels,” she laughed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She threw her pumps in the back seat before taking the driver’s seat.
Andrew sighed as he kicked off his own dress shoes and reclined the seat a little. He ruffled his hair brusquely with his hands and scanned the radio as Emma pulled out of the parking lot. “So, do your friends always grill you like that?” Andrew asked casually.
“You mean Dave? Yeah, usually. At least once,” Emma admitted. “It’s a little easier with a wingman, though.” She winked at him and smiled.
“Glad I could be of service,” Andrew bowed with mock gentility. “I wonder if it would be different if you were a guy,” he mused.
“Good question. I don’t suppose I’ve ever thought about that,” Emma replied, turning onto the main road. “I imagine it might be worse since guys are supposed to be the pursuers. People probably pressure guys to make a decisive move.”
“I guess I’ll have to prepare some witty responses, then” Andrew replied reflectively.
“Or you could just date,” Emma laughed. “You boys have a little more control over that than we ladies do.” She stole a glance at Andrew to smile at him teasingly, but he was just staring forward thoughtfully. “Girls don’t bite, you know; well, not the nice ones anyway. They even say yes sometimes,” she continued, trying to draw him back to the conversation.
Andrew laughed. “Oh, I know. I’m just wondering when people start obsessing about your relationship status?”
“Well, you’re only 24. You have at least one more year before the pressure really starts, and then it’s a slow boil—until about 26; then it’s all over. Plus, you’re a pretty social guy. I bet you have dates all the time. One of them is bound to grow into something eventually.” Emma was trying hard not to mock Andrew’s totally unnecessary train of thought. He had to be one of the most datable guys at his church. He had no idea what it was like to actually be under scrutiny and to have no discernible options.
“Oh, I’ve dated plenty, but just for fun.” Andrew replied. “You know, casually. I’ve never actually been in love I don’t think. I had a few girlfriends in high school and college, but we were more like best friends who just got dressed up occasionally for special outings. None of my relationships have ever really developed into anything serous.” His tone was still lighthearted and casual, but Emma was somewhat surprised by his continuing the train of thought. Unsure what to say, she made some sound to indicate she was listening as she changed lanes to pass a slow car on the freeway. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?” he asked suddenly.

Emma was not accustomed to discussing this subject with guys. But before she could answer, Andrew had a sudden thought. “Gosh! I bet it would be positively excruciating to go through that ritual interrogation if you had been in love and it didn’t work out!” He was clearly speaking hypothetically, forgetting that she was the person in question, which made his bluntness all the more endearing.
Emma laughed. “I never really thought about it that way before. Weddings would be worse as a single person if you had been disappointed in love, I guess. But no, thank heaven. I’ve never even dated, to speak of, so I guess I have that to be thankful for.”
“Hold up,” Andrew said, twisting in his seat to face Emma head on. “You’ve never dated?!”
Oops. She hadn’t meant to let that slip out. Upon a moment’s reflection, however, and a quick glance to assess his reaction, Emma realized that she didn’t really mind Andrew knowing. He was just genuinely surprised, not judging. It didn’t feel like having a peer look at you like you’ve just admitted to some terminal tumor, or a married person looking at you like you’ve been a victim of gross neglect and cruelty. He was just curious. “Well, not really. I mean, you know, I’ve been on dates. And we did some group dating back in college and stuff. But, I’ve never had an actual dating relationship.”
“Get out! Really?! How did you swing that?” Andrew was still sitting sideways in his seat, staring at her fixedly. Emma felt slightly embarrassed and chuckled nervously as she felt her cheeks growing warmer.
“Um. I don’t know. In high school, I guess I was still self-conscious around guys and mostly focused on my studies. So, I didn’t really attract dates. In college, I hung out with a few guys, but we were just good friends. The guys who actually pursued me weren’t really compatible with my personality. And then…. I don’t know. It’s almost like a curse. The less dated you are, the less datable you become or something. I think I’ve completely fallen off the radar at this point. Plus, it’s true that I don’t really know any single guys who are eligible.”
“So, when you say you didn’t date in high school…you mean like, prom? Homecoming? School dances?”
“Nope. I went to Homecoming with groups a couple years, but never as a twosome. And prom isn’t really a group event.”
“And, college formals? The annual banquet?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you didn’t get asked.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was, I would have expected someone to ask you.”
“Well, there were a couple of unsuitable guys who may have asked…if I hadn’t warded them off with lots of mixed messages and playing totally aloof to their intentions. I tried to keep them too unsure of my feelings to actually take a chance on pursuing me in earnest.” Emma smiled to herself, remembering how hard she had worked to keep one guy in particular from asking her out.
“Yeah, I guess I could see you being intimidating,” Andrew reflected, turning back in his seat to face the front.
“What?” Emma laughed. “I don’t think I was intimidating, just an enigma. I didn’t give them any encouraging feedback or open windows of opportunity.”
“Mmm, I don’t know,” Andrew responded. “Even without encouragement, if a guy’s really interested in a girl, he takes a shot—unless he’s intimidated.”


“Why in the world would a girl who’s never dated be intimidating? It’s not like I was ever the hot chick on campus or the man-eater or anything.”
“Maybe they felt like no one had ever been able to catch your attention so your standards must be really high.”
“Or their standards must be too low, if no one else had tried before,” Emma laughed.
“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Andrew said lightly but sincerely, changing the channel on the radio.
Emma wasn’t sure how to respond to this and was getting a bit uncomfortable being the center of the conversation, so she decided to shift the conversation back to him. “So, who has you so intimidated that you haven’t dated anyone in Atlanta yet?” she asked teasingly, smirking at him and raising her eyebrows. “I’ve been to church with Abby. There’re several cute girls around your age who I’m sure would love to go out with you. You said you like casual dating. What’s the problem?”
“Casual dating doesn’t usually end well,” Andrew said somewhat seriously and quit fiddling with the radio. The abrupt change in his tone caught Emma’s attention and pulled her out of her panicked backpedaling.
“What do you mean?” she asked, sincerely confused.
Andrew ran his fingers through his curls absentmindedly, somewhat taming them in the process. “Well, when I say none of my relationships have turned into anything serious, it’s mainly because I’ve never felt serious about any of them. But, at some point, the girl always wants to get serious, and then she gets hurt when I don’t have the same plans.”

Emma had never seen Andrew burdened by something before. He sounded almost guilty. She glanced at him quickly to make sure she was correctly assessing his tone. He was playing idly with his tie in his lap, not looking at her. “I mean, I love making a girl feel special and planning fun dates and everything. I can get really creative, and we always have a great time. But, somewhere along the line, the girl starts seeing white dresses on the horzion, and I don’t know how to avoid that.” Andrew was still tracing the patterns on his tie.
Emma knew exactly what Andrew was talking about. “Ah, yes. The Prince Charming Syndrome,” she observed casually. “Close kin to the Knight in Shining Armor Syndrome, though somewhat less destructive.”
Now Andrew was looking up at her with an amused twinkle in his eye and a cautiously raised eyebrow. “Come again?” he asked, distracted from his pensive mood.
“It’s a very common pitfall among otherwise well-intentioned guys. I’ve seen it a thousand times. Guys like to play the role. You like dazzling a girl and giving her magical moments, sweeping her off her feet. You like to make her feel like a princess. Only, you think you’re just giving her a few magic moments. In reality, you’re giving her a long-term dream, with you at the dead center.” Emma had explained this so many times to girls that she fell into her didactic tone and continued with her familiar speech. “While the guy is enjoying playing a role, the girl’s casting him in the entire script. Every time he successfully pulls off the role of Prince Charming or Knight in Shining Armor (which is the more dangerous of the two), he creates a little emotional dependence in her. She now depends on him to make her feel special or safe and to believe that her dreams of love can come true. For every moment he gives her, she gives him a piece of her heart. As those moments accumulate, so does the fallout when she realizes that he’s not playing for keeps and she’s given her heart away in vain. ‘Casual’ dating in a guy’s mind is not the same thing as casual dating in a girl’s mind. ‘Casual’ to a girl does not involve Prince Charming or the Knight in Shining Armor. Those are both very permanent roles. ‘Casual’ to a girl is more like the faithful squire or the childhood playmate.”
Emma realized too late that she had not adapted this speech for a male audience before and had basically launched into a soapbox sermon, forgetting Andrew’s feelings. Andrew didn’t say anything, and she tried to quickly assess how condemning her little diatribe had sounded. “Sorry,” she said glancing at him apologetically. “That came out too harshly. Of course, the guy doesn’t usually mean to do any of that. He’s just trying to make the girl feel special and confident. I realize that. And, it’s not all the guy’s fault either. Girls aren’t very good at guarding their hearts or being conscious of who they give them to. Most of them are all too eager to give their hearts away to the nearest bidder. Especially in the South where they’re basically raised to get married as soon as the opportunity presents itself. A lot of times, you don’t even have to play the role of Prince Charming to get a girl’s heart.” Emma stole another glance at Andrew.
His eyebrows were slightly pinched together, and he stared absently at the dashboard. “Andrew,” she ventured. “Are you okay? Did I offend you?”


“Huh?” Andrew looked up distractedly. “No, I’m fine. Sorry. I was just mentally replaying my last few relationships. You’re totally right. My relationships always started out pretty Platonic, but the more creative I got with dates or did little things to brighten their days, the more the girls seemed to get attached. The relationships that ended the most amicably were the ones that were mainly just hanging out, not fancy dates or grand gestures. It never occurred to me that I was playing games with their emotions. How on earth did I miss that?”
Yep. She had overdone it. Emma shrugged slightly, trying to be generous without dismissing his revelation. “Well, you’re not a girl, and probably no one ever explained to you how girls’ minds work. Heck, probably half the girls you dated didn’t realize how their own minds work. It’s not like you did it intentionally. And the damage isn’t irrevocable or anything. I don’t want to scare you off dating altogether. Just, you know, don’t pursue a girl unless you’re actually serious about pursuing her. Otherwise, keep it in the hanging out category.” Emma was really regretting this entire line of conversation. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Why did she always have to pry with questions? And why did she always feel the need to wax eloquent on this subject when she really didn’t know what she was talking about? Poor Andrew was looking very disillusioned and probably would be too scared to ever ask another girl out unless he was ready to buy a ring.
“You know?” he said finally, after a very tense few seconds for Emma, “for someone who has no dating experience to speak of, you sure have a lot of insight into the female dating psyche.” He looked over at Emma with a sincerely impressed look on his face. She heaved a huge, internal sigh of relief when his face broke into a half smile and a raised eyebrow. Maybe she wouldn’t have to explain to Abby why her brother was going to die a bachelor.
“Yeah, well, it’s one of the many perks of not having my own love life. I have been the primary confidante to countless girlfriends and even some of their boyfriends.” She rolled her eyes dramatically at the word ‘countless’ and smiled her sarcastic smile.
“I bet that’s been fun,” Andrew chuckled, regaining his normal cheerfulness. “Still, you must have proved a pretty good listener.” There was an awkward pause as neither of them was sure how to proceed now that this line of thought was concluded. “So, exactly how can you tell if a girl is just playing totally aloof to prevent you from asking her out?” They both laughed, and Emma shared a few stories of particularly persistent guys in college. Andrew shared some stories about his own overblown attempts to get a girl’s attention in high school. The rest of the drive was pleasant and casual again.
“See ya around, Emma. Thanks for driving.” Andrew shined his usual, carefree smile as he got out of the car at his apartment building.
“Hey, Andrew,” Emma called, leaning over before he closed the passenger door. His head bent down to meet her gaze. “You’re a really great guy, and any girl would be happy to date you. Really.” Shoot. Should she have said that? Maybe she should just have let it lie.
Andrew grinned. “Likewise,” he said. “Um, except the gender part, I guess.” They both laughed and Andrew closed the door. Emma drove home confident that their sibling camaraderie was fully intact.