Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Yoga is over at four-thirty.

Arlene's hatha yoga class in the late afternoon can get pretty crowded, but I got there early enough to snag a spot next to my friends. I mean, I get that yoga is about pranayama and shatkarma, but it's also about shooting your friends agonizing looks when the teacher suggests a ridiculously difficult pose and keeps telling you to breathe when all you want to do is freaking collapse.

Arlene ends her guided meditation, which is how we spend the last fifteen minutes of every class. I glance over at Gretchen on my right, who is already back in a seated position, her palms pressed together. "Namaste," Gretchen says in unison with the other women in the room.

Bonnie snickers like she always does. She doesn't take the whole thing as seriously as Gretchen, but she likes to keep herself flexible for…well, you know.

"Okay, guys," Gretchen says as she scrambles back to her feet. "Time for coffee, right?"

I look over at Bonnie as I roll my mat back up. It usually takes me at least two tries to roll it tight enough to fit back in the bag. "Unless you need to get ready for another date with the hot doctor?"

Bonnie laughs and Gretchen arches an eyebrow. "Hot doctor? What is that all about, young lady?"

I adore Gretchen, but she is super nosy when it comes to hearing about our dating lives. Especially since she became exclusive with Randy and doesn't have her own dates to get excited about. She says she has to date vicariously through us, although I find it a little offensive, because I would love to have a serious boyfriend like she does.

Well, maybe not like Randy . But someone I like as much as she likes him.

I'm not too jealous of Gretchen though. When we first met, she was still hung up on some guy she'd been dating who broke her heart, but now it seems like she's over it. That's what a good relationship will do for you—it gives me hope for my own future.

Bonnie pulls her blond hair out of her green scrunchie, shakes it out, then secures it again. "Let's get coffee and I'll fill you in."

Fifteen minutes later, the three of us are squeezed into a table at the coffee shop next door to the yoga studio. The shop has notoriously bad service, but we are too lazy to wander any farther away. Gretchen tries to flag down a waitress, waving her hand frantically to get the woman's attention.

"Don't forget," Gretchen says, "it's my treat."

"How come?" Bonnie asks.

"Because Gretchen was too busy having hot sex with her boyfriend and she abandoned her escape-call duties," I explain.

"I feel so bad about that." Gretchen gives up on the waitress and turns to look at me, her lip jutting out slightly. Between my two friends, Bonnie is objectively prettier. She has the silky blond hair and curvy body. But Gretchen has a very sweet face, with big anime eyes and a button nose that has a smattering of pale freckles across the bridge. Plus, she looks pretty good in yoga pants and her snug flower-printed V-neck T-shirt. "Do you hate me now?"

"A little," I say.

"I would have given you an escape call, Syd," Bonnie says.

I shake my head. "Weren't you too busy on your date with Dr. McHottie?"

"Oh right!" Gretchen's eyes light up. "What's that all about? I didn't know you were dating anyone seriously."

"I'm not." Bonnie squirms in her seat. "I mean, it's not official yet. He is still very skittish, but…" A secret smile touches her lips. "I really like him. Really really ."

"Is he hot?" Gretchen asks.

" So hot," Bonnie confirms. "He's honestly just… He's perfect. He's the kind of guy who makes me glad I never settled."

I can't help but notice that she looks directly at Gretchen when she says the word "settled." Hopefully, Gretchen doesn't notice.

"That's awesome, Bonnie." I reach out to give her hand a squeeze. "I hope he doesn't turn out to be a jerk."

Bonnie makes a face at me. "Gee, thanks."

I wince at what I now realize was an unnecessarily bitter comment. Bonnie met a great guy—why am I trying to plant doubts in her head? I should be happy for her. But it's hard not to be skeptical after all my dating experiences in the city, culminating with last night's Worst Date Ever.

"I'm sure he's great," I say. "There are just a lot of jerks in this city."

"Right, and I've dated pretty much all of them," Bonnie points out. "He's not one of them—I promise you. I deserve a decent guy after all my crappy dates."

"You totally do!" Gretchen says. "I bet he's amazing. I hope you'll be as happy as Randy and I are."

Bonnie's lips tighten at that statement, but thankfully, she keeps her mouth shut. If Gretchen knew what Bonnie really thought of Randy, she would be crushed.

"Anyway," Gretchen says, "to change the subject slightly, the new exhibit I've been working on at the museum is opening tomorrow. If you guys are free, I'd love you to come see it!"

Gretchen works at the museum, presumably earning next to nothing. She also has one of those micro-apartments downtown, and I can tell she is eager to move in with Randy, who has a decent-sized apartment supplied by our landlord. I can't blame her.

"I'd love to come!" I say.

"Yes, totally," Bonnie says without enthusiasm.

While Gretchen returns to her task of trying to flag down the waitress, my phone buzzes in my purse. I pull it out, and sure enough, there's a message from Bonnie waiting for me:

Do we really have to go to this museum thing?

I shoot her a look. Bonnie is notoriously unexcited about Gretchen's natural history museum exhibits, but I think they are pretty cool. Gretchen has a job that she loves, and I give her kudos for that. Not that I don't love being an accountant, but… Well, being an accountant isn't anyone's dream job. It was one of those practical things my parents told me to do.

It's a great job that you can do anywhere. And you can still work after you get married and have children.

Yes, even in college, I was preparing for the eventuality of getting married and having children. Pathetic, right? I never dreamed that ten years later I'd be no closer to that goal. I haven't had one decent date in the last year.

And even though I am happy for them, it's hard to watch Gretchen with her boyfriend…and even Bonnie now settling into an exclusive relationship with Dr. McHottie. I miss having a boyfriend. I miss cuddling on the sofa. I miss having a warm body next to me in my bed every night as I drift off to sleep. I miss…

Well, you know. That .

God, why couldn't things have worked out with Jake?

But when I close my eyes, I don't see Jake. I see that mystery man from last night, who I can't seem to get out of my head. I haven't had a jolt like that in a really long time. I blew it last night with my bloody forehead, but part of me wonders if there's still a chance for something to happen. If only I could find him again.

"Hey," I blurt out. "How can you find a missed connection?"

"A missed connection?" Bonnie asks.

Gretchen turns to look at me, and at this point I tell the two of them the whole dramatic story. Gretchen clutches her chest, now doubly sorry that she didn't come through with her rescue phone call. But when I tell them about the guy who saved me, they look so excited. Gretchen probably would have spit out her coffee if our waitress had shown up by now.

"That's so romantic!" she cries, her big eyes practically circles. "So what happened?"

"Unfortunately…" I grimace, "as Bonnie can tell you, I had a big ugly gash on my forehead and he took off."

"It wasn't that bad," Bonnie says, although her cheeks turn slightly pink like they always do when she's lying.

"Still," I say, "I wonder if I could find him again, and I can look more…presentable this time."

"Totally!" Gretchen bobs her head. "I heard a story about a guy who met a woman on a plane and he never got her last name or her phone number before the end of the flight. So he launched a Twitter campaign to find her. And he did!"

"That sounds awfully elaborate," I say. "I don't even have a Twitter account."

"What about Craigslist?" Gretchen says. "Don't they have a whole missed-connection page?"

"Craigslist?" Bonnie shakes her head. "Do you want her to get murdered ?"

Gretchen ignores her. "Or maybe you can check Cynch and see if he has a profile? If you met him around here, I bet you can narrow down your searches to a few-miles radius."

That's not a bad idea. It seems like every single person in the city has a profile on Cynch. If he is single, I bet he's on there.

"Would I seem like a stalker if I messaged him through Cynch?" I ask.

"No way," Bonnie says. "Dating is cutthroat these days. You do what you have to do to survive, you know? And if he's a decent guy, it's worth it."

"Totally," Gretchen agrees.

Bonnie and Gretchen almost never agree on anything, so the fact that they both think I need to find this guy seems like some kind of sign. I'm going to find Mystery Man.

Although, even as I'm strategizing with my friends about finding this guy, I can't help but wonder if maybe I shouldn't. Maybe it's not such a good idea to get involved with a random guy I found wandering around my neighborhood late on a Tuesday night.

But I'm sure it's fine. After all, he rescued me.