Chapter Three

Alone in her garage apartment, Gray quickly pulled off her restrictive skinny jeans, dropped into her favorite antique armchair, and turned the TV to reruns of a nineties sitcom to fill the silence. Having Cherry and Robbie only a flight of stairs away was helpful, but she still wasn't exactly sure how to be home alone. Going straight from her college dorm to living with McKenzie meant she'd never really had to sit silently with her own thoughts for very long. Even looking around the small apartment now at her belongings was jarring. She couldn't help but see her furniture where it once sat in her Tulsa home: the bed made up in the guest room with McKenzie's old comforter, the bedside table paired with the matching one left behind, the bookshelf full of McKenzie's cookbooks and mystery novels.

But she definitely wasn't in her three-bedroom midtown Tulsa home. She was in a space clearly added on after the rest of the house was built, one she imagined had previously homed a brooding teenager or college grad who moved back in with their parents. At the top of the staircase between Cherry and Robbie's kitchen and garage sat a simple room painted a bleak off-white color with stained beige carpeting. There was a bathroom by the door that was so cramped Gray couldn't sit on the toilet without bumping her knees against the sink, as well as a shower that was grimy no matter how much she scrubbed. The only upsides to the room were the large window looking out over the driveway and the sizable closet, primarily designed for long-term storage. Well, those things and the exceedingly low cost. Cherry and Robbie refused to take any rent from Gray, although she regularly helped out with River and occasionally chipped in for utilities and groceries.

For the time being, it was home. Gray stroked the floral embroidery of her magenta armchair, remembering when she first spotted it outside a Tulsa antiques store. She'd begged McKenzie to let her bring it home. McKenzie always had more minimalist tastes when it came to design, while Gray liked quirky pieces with character. It was one of the many things Gray should have seen as a sign that their home life was incompatible. Gray wanted a lived-in home, full of bright colors and broken-in furniture and kids and pets running around. Meanwhile, McKenzie wanted sleek lines, neutral colors, and a big, easily cleaned stainless steel kitchen for her culinary experiments. In the case of this particular chair, Gray had won her over by promising to find beige throw pillows to tie it into their living room décor. The rest of their home turf battles hadn't been so easily settled. "At least we've still got each other," Gray murmured to the chair.

Who was Gray to sit around feeling sorry for herself when she was the one who called it off? She got exactly what she wanted: a chance for a fresh start, an opportunity to find someone who fit into her picture of the future, someone who could be the partner and co-parent McKenzie wouldn't be. And at least they'd managed to end things amicably. They hadn't spoken in the month since then, agreeing to give each other space to adjust. Gray believed one day they could be something like friends again.

She'd said goodbye to the person with whom she'd shared her every worry, every bit of good news, every mundane story for ten years. That was the cost of her choice. But she still caught herself craving a spoonful of McKenzie's blueberry jam every once in a while, or wishing she could hear her snarky commentary on the latest reality TV sensation. Gray had unpacked a lightweight spring quilt only a few days prior, and the delicate, lingering scent of McKenzie's favorite perfume had sucker punched her right in the gut.

With a resigned nod, Gray decided to make good on her promise to Cherry and herself and download a dating app. But a scroll through the app store showed her just how out of touch she was. Each app tried to distinguish itself as the only platform to really help you find true love, but Gray couldn't figure out how one was any different from the others in practice. Growing frustrated by the rampant heteronormativity in the various descriptions, Gray turned to her favorite queer blog for help. Their latest ranking of dating apps was a couple years old, but it was immediately more helpful than anything else she'd seen online.

One app on the blog's list caught Gray's eye. According to the blog, Mercurious was by and for queer people. Even better, it offered a multitude of ways to filter potential matches beyond the typical options: by vacation style, favorite book and film genres, "out" status, preferred climate, and most important, astrological sign. Gray happily paid $4.99 to download the app.

Next, Gray waded through a multistep authentication process and endless questions until she finally arrived at the daunting task of choosing a profile picture. It turned out Gray hadn't taken a cute photo of herself alone in at least a year. And the pictures on her phone were a land mine of bittersweet memories with McKenzie. When she'd scrolled all the way back to the Caribbean cruise they'd taken for their eighth anniversary, Gray threw her phone across the room in frustration. Then, of course, she went to confirm she hadn't broken it. Her new job paid well enough, but she couldn't justify throwing a few hundred dollars in the hole.

Did she really want a wife and family so desperately that she was willing to try Cherry's foolhardy plan? Gray wondered. Would it even work if she did?

Gray dropped onto her bed, massaging her aching forehead with the heels of her palms. Yes, of course she wanted a family. She wouldn't have blown up her life in Tulsa if she didn't.

When Gray thought about her dream family, one moment always came to mind. It was back when she was around ten or eleven, when she played on a youth softball team called the Tulsa Twisters. A Sunday afternoon game got rained out shortly after it began, but Gray couldn't get in touch with her parents, who were at a church function. She normally would have caught a ride home with Cherry, also on the Twisters, but she was home sick. The lesbian moms of one of Gray's teammates took pity on her and invited her back to their home until her parents could pick her up.

"I'm, uh, not supposed to go to anyone's house without my parents' permission," Gray had said, although it wasn't technically true. It was specifically their home Gray's mom had told her not to visit. In fact, Gray's mother had demanded that she keep her distance from her teammate Alyssa and her two moms.

"That's all right," one of them said kindly, Alyssa's younger brother clinging to her pants to shelter under her umbrella. "We usually go to Tastee-Freez for ice cream after games anyway. It's not far from here, and we can call your mom to let her know where to find you. Surely she'd prefer that to you standing in the rain alone."

There it was: a loophole. Gray's mother hadn't said anything about Tastee-Freez. It was a chance to feed her endless curiosity about Alyssa's family, only made more irresistible thanks to the rule against getting to know them. Although she hadn't known it at the time, it was that half hour in a vinyl booth over ice-cream cones that cleared a path for Gray to grow into the person she was today, and a path to the person she hoped to be in the future. The conversation hadn't been anything radical; Alyssa's moms asked Gray about school, the softball team, and her summer plans. But simply seeing the two women together, one's arm draped around the shoulders of the other, trading tastes of ice cream, caringly wiping chocolate from their son's chin, reminding Alyssa to say "please" and "thank you" to the cashier, exchanging whispered words and meaningful glances…Well, it changed everything for Gray. For the first time, she could imagine herself growing up, an adulthood that wouldn't feel like trying on someone else's itchy, too-big clothes. Even now, when she pictured her future, she saw herself out for ice cream after a softball game with her wife and children.

It was that mental image that gave Gray the courage to open Mercurious again and finish her first dating profile. Maybe that's what it took to build a family like Alyssa's. Even all these years later, Gray didn't know their names. Alyssa had quit softball the following year. But she would do anything to give herself what they had.

The next morning, Gray stumbled down the garage stairs in a hoodie and sweatpants to join Cherry, Robbie, and River for their regular Sunday brunch. But by the time Gray had topped her waffles, poured her coffee, and settled at the table, Cherry's plate was empty. Gray thought back to the days when Cherry would be so absorbed in conversation that she'd spend hours working her way through a meal. That was before she became a mom. Now she usually finished eating before Gray could take her first bite.

"All right, show me your dating profile," Cherry said, jumping right over any pleasantries.

Gray took a heartening chug of coffee, then unlocked her phone and slid it across the table to Cherry. "Completed, as promised," she said.

Cherry scrolled through the profile with one hand while passing a slice of strawberry to River with the other. "Ew, these pictures are awful. Is McKenzie in this one? Not to worry, we'll fix that. Hobbies could use a little work too. Everyone says ‘travel.' It's predictable and boring. And ‘videogames' makes you sound like a nerd."

"But what if I am a nerd?" Gray muttered into her waffles.

"Dating profiles aren't about showing your true self, they're about creating an illusion."

"Wait, are you saying I swiped right on an illusion?" Robbie said, scrambled eggs dropping from his fork.

"Of course, dear," Cherry said, batting her eyelashes. "You wouldn't have asked me out if my profile said I was a five-foot-two living troll doll with a weak chin and an astrology obsession."

Robbie snorted. "Oh my god. The hair. The belly ring. You really are a troll doll! Why have I never thought of that before?"

"Because I'm a master illusionist, babe. Now, about this profile." Cherry wiped River's mouth with a napkin before turning her full attention to Gray's phone. "Mm, that won't do…Here…" she mumbled while speed-typing. After only a couple minutes, Cherry set down the phone and looked Gray up and down. "Now," she said, "a quick photo shoot."

"Back up a second," Gray said. "What about the pictures I chose?"

"Do you mean the one where you look sickeningly happy with your ex, the one where you can't tell which of the seven people in the photo you are, or the one where you're literally sneezing?" Cherry rolled her eyes. "I seriously don't understand how someone so hot can look so terrible on camera. It's a travesty."

"Maybe my dates will be pleasantly surprised when they see me in person, then," Gray said.

"Go upstairs and change," Cherry said, ignoring her. "Then meet me in the backyard."

An hour later, back at the kitchen table, Cherry presented Gray with her brand-new profile.

"I don't know, Cherry," Gray said, scanning through Cherry's draft. There were benefits to having a best friend's perspective on why someone would make a good date. Cherry's answers to Mercurious's questions made it clear she knew Gray better than she knew herself: She loved vacations where she could hit the beach and still explore a city full of historical character, her favorite books and movies all involved rooting for an underdog, and fall was her best season because she could wear her most fashionable jackets. But still, she felt a little itchy, a reaction to dishonesty that had developed when she was a kid in Sunday school, where Gray was told God always knew when she lied and added it to a list of her sins. Even though she no longer believed in God, at least not as a man in the clouds who added a tally to his stone tablet enumerating all of Gray's faults, the itching discomfort was harder to kick. "This profile makes it look like I've really got my shit together," Gray elaborated. "Like I'm some suave, eligible lesbian bachelor, instead of a nerd in the middle of a quarter-life crisis who lives above her best friend's garage."

"Stop scratching!" Cherry swatted at Gray's hand. "Both things can be true. This is how the game is played, okay? Just like you put your best foot forward on a date, you put your best foot forward on a dating app. Anyway, you can always edit your profile later. We've got to get a move on if you're going to get through all the signs before your birthday."

"Before my birthday? When did that become the rule? That's only in…six weeks!" Gray calculated, feeling her twenties wilting away before her eyes.

Cherry gave Gray a stern look. "Saturn return. Keep up. When Saturn hits the exact spot where it was at the moment you were born, don't you want to be ready? Don't you want to have this under your belt so you're prepared to meet your true love?"

Her true love. Someone she could sit beside as they cheered on their kids at softball, then exchange loving looks over postgame ice cream. The first step toward the family she'd always wanted. Gray's vision for the future was more traditional than people might guess based on her alternative haircut and nose ring, but she could see it shining in the distance, calling to her. "Yeah," she said. "I'm ready."

"Great. Then let's lay out some ground rules." Cherry placed her clasped hands on the table in front of her with utmost seriousness. "Rule number one: No talking about your ex. There's no good way to do it. You'll sound either bitter or still hung up on her."

"McKenzie and I were together for a third of my life. How do I talk about myself without her coming up?" Gray asked.

"Avoid stories with her in them as much as possible," Cherry said. "If you get stuck or it's awkward to leave her out, fill in someone else. Me or another friend or a fake cousin or something." Gray raised a skeptical eyebrow. "It's only one date with each person. Make it work, okay?"

"Fine. What's the next rule?"

"Rule number two: Don't talk about the zodiac dating challenge."

"How very Fight Club of you," Gray joked.

Cherry looked up, her eyes more serious than Gray expected. "You're about to find out that first dates are scary. Putting yourself out there to a total stranger, risking rejection and humiliation and, at least with straight dudes, potential murder? It's terrifying. And making anyone brave enough to put themselves out there feel like part of a game, or a science experiment? Massively not cool. This is an interesting challenge for you, but when you walk in the door, you need to meet them on equal ground."

"This is starting to sound a lot harder than I thought," Gray confessed, wiping her palms on her pants.

"This will make it easier," Cherry said. "Rule number three: Don't fall in love."

"Oh my god, Cherry, that's so cliché."

"The whole point of this experiment is to go on a date with each sign with an open mind to see what vibes best with you, right? If you fall in love with the first Aries you meet, as you've done before, cough cough McKenzie, you won't be able to finish the challenge, at least not in the spirit of the whole thing. You'll just be going through the motions." Cherry traced an invisible path on the wooden table in front of her as if mapping out a plan of attack. "And going into a date knowing you're experimenting and having fun will make it less scary. As long as you are still vulnerable and don't let the other person know you're just trying their sign on for the night, i.e., rule number two, you're free to enjoy yourself and let the night take you where it will. Capeesh?"

Gray breathed in and out, then nodded. "I accept your terms."

"Excellent. Then let's get your match parameters set and get this show on the road." Standing and coming around the table, Cherry looked at Gray's phone over her shoulder. "I would recommend keeping them pretty wide, since limiting it to an individual sign is already going to make it a small pool."

"Roger that."

As Gray began checking boxes of genders she wanted in her matches, Cherry made a surprised hmm. "I figured you would just mark women."

"I've only been in a relationship with a woman, sure. But I would date a trans man, or a trans woman, or a gender nonconforming person. I guess I would date"—Gray looked at the only unchecked box on the list—"everyone but cis men, apparently."

"So are you vibing in the pansexual lane these days, then?" Cherry asked.

Gray shrugged. "Kind of?" she said. "I still like the word ‘lesbian' though. I think I can be a lesbian and still date people of all genders."

Cherry nodded. "Totally. Fuck gender essentialism. Maybe put some age limits on there though," she advised. Gray slid the age bar to between twenty-five and thirty-two. "A little broader. You don't want your search to come up empty," Cherry said, reaching across Gray to widen the age limits to twenty-one to forty.

Gray marked the Aries box under astrology, then hovered over the View Matches button. She froze, memories of the past and visions of her future comingling in her head. This was it: the moment her life would change. Even if it was a failed project and didn't get her any closer to finding her life partner, it was the moment she left her old relationship behind and started working toward a life without McKenzie in it. Was she ready?

Although Gray hadn't spoken her thoughts aloud, Cherry knew exactly what was going through her head. Best friends always do. She placed a hand on Gray's tense shoulder and squeezed. "You've got this, Gray. And even if you don't, I'll be right here."

Gray took a deep breath in and out, then with a small nod, pressed the button. A rainbow loading wheel gave way to a short list.

"Wow, that's not many options," Cherry said, squinting over Gray's shoulder. "Must be the sign filter."

"I like it. Did you know research shows that people are happier with their choices when given fewer options?" Gray scrolled down the short page. "Plus this one's really cute."

Gray clicked on someone named Carmen's profile, which listed her pronouns (she/her), age (twenty-four), hometown (Tuscaloosa, Alabama), and distance from Gray's current location (seven miles). The first photo of Carmen showed a woman with an infectious smile and a stylish platinum blonde wavy bob holding an armful of stuffed prizes from a carnival booth over her left shoulder. The next photo showed Carmen smiling in hiking gear atop a rocky cliff, and in the last, she was leaping above a trampoline, arms and legs stretched fully out into space. Beneath the pictures was an About Me box, which read: "Always looking for the next mountain to climb. Perfect match must love dogs, trying new things, and heated debates."

The description spoke straight to Gray's Aries heart. Maybe this wouldn't be so scary after all. "Carmen seems cool. What do I do now? Message her?"

"God, teaching you to navigate dating apps is like potty training River. No sense of direction. You can't message any old stranger! Otherwise it's a haunted house of unsolicited dick pics." Cherry leaned closer to Gray's phone. "You have to like her profile first. Try that Star button there."

Clicking the Star button whisked Carmen's profile away, leaving another in its place. This one showed someone in khaki waders holding up what appeared to be a large catfish. But before Gray could finish reading the new page, a banner notification popped up: "You've got a new match!"

Gray gasped, clasping a hand to her chest. "Cherry, I've got a match!"

Cherry squealed and clapped. "They grow up so fast! All right, I thought we'd have more time to prepare for icebreakers, but it looks like you're a hot commodity. What's your first question going to be?"

"Question? Can't I just say hi?"

"Absolutely not. That's the number one most common and number one most boring way people start conversations on these apps. You've got to start with a question because people love talking about themselves."

"What's your job?" Gray suggested.

Cherry held a hand to her heart as if mortally offended. "This isn't a networking event."

Gray chewed her bottom lip, racking her brain. "Um, what's your favorite color?"

"Gween!" River chirped from Robbie's lap in the living room, reminding them both that he was listening to more than they realized.

Cherry grimaced. "Great question for an almost two-year-old. Not so much for a twenty-four-year-old. Try again."

"Uh…What's your five-year plan?"

"How do your suggestions keep getting worse? Something more lighthearted, unique, personal but not too personal." Cherry paced the kitchen. "This is all about astrology, so let's look to the stars! Aries, as you know, are fiery, competitive, and driven, and like to be entertained. What kind of question would hook you? What sparks those qualities in you?"

"What's your favorite videogame?" Gray offered.

"How about board game? A little broader appeal." The sound of a small crash and then a cry from River drew Cherry's attention. "Robbie? Everything okay in there?"

"Only if you weren't too attached to that flower vase on the end table," Robbie's voice called from the other room.

"Shit," Cherry said under her breath. "Gray, you've got this! I'll be back in a bit."

Once Cherry exited, Gray took a deep breath, trying to shift her nerves into something more optimistic. This was it! She was taking her future into her own hands, putting herself out there, as common wisdom advised. At best, she would learn about what she wanted in a partner. At worst, she'd meet some new people and see more of her new city. Gray had always been a bit of a flirt, and now she could test her charm without worrying about it starting a fight with McKenzie afterward. What did she have to lose? Only time. Six weeks was a short window in which to identify and meet twelve different people for dates. No time for dillydallying.

Pumped up from her own pep talk, Gray clicked the chat bubble to contact Carmen. She typed out, "Hey Carmen! Nice to connect. What's your favorite board game?" Her thumb was hovering over the Send button when her phone vibrated with an incoming message.

Carmen:Are you good at trivia?

Okay, a little lacking in niceties, but that was as good of an entrance as any. Gray deleted her draft message and started again.

Gray:I'm pretty good! At least based on the weekly trivia nights at my old neighborhood queer bar. Are you a trivia fan?

Carmen:What are you doing tonight at 9?

Gray:I don't have plans.

Carmen:You do now! Trivia at Cat O'Connor's Pub. Better be on your game! ;)

Wow, this Aries was really getting straight to the point. If Gray wasn't in such a rush herself, she might have been put off by having so little time to get to know each other before making plans. But with an intimidating challenge ahead, Gray was grateful that her first date practically fell into her lap. Carmen's invitation felt a bit more perfunctory than come-hither, but if she was being honest, Gray wasn't ready to dive into spicy romance with perfect strangers yet anyway. A casual trivia night sounded like just what she needed to kick off her astrological challenge. Maybe the planets really were on her side.