I know she heard me, but Gabby ignores me and pulls me around the room. “Alright, what’s your type? Blonde, brunette, redhead? Ooh, how about that girl over there with the pink hair?”

Shaking my head, I indulge her. “What if her natural color is awful, and she goes back to it a month after we’re dating?”

“That is strangely insightful.” Gabby stops and glances around the room. I do a quick perusal and drop my eyes. Having my best friend shop for girls for me isn’t awkward at all. She huffs something about my being picky. “How about the girl in the yellow dress by the window?”

Gabby moves toward her before I can respond. I’ve never seen her and she looks nervous. Yellow dress, blonde hair, tall and tan—athletic build. I can’t place which sport, but I’m banking on her being a student-athlete. Ten bucks she’s a freshman. Or, I guess, ten high fives because that’s all I’m fucking good for.

“Hi!” Gabby startles the poor girl, and I do my best to hang back and not make this situation any more painful than it already is.

I love Gabby, I do. She’s full of life and has nothing but good intentions but I don’t want to be set up. I think dating and relationships should happen naturally when you least expect it. Just walking along minding your own business and BAM, hot girl drops in front of you. Sort of like how Chloe and I met, but with less alcohol and exactly zero of the shame and regret in the girl’s eyes the next morning.

Speaking of, I glance around the room in hopes she came, but even before my eyes finish a once over of the room, I know she’s not here. When Chloe is around, I can feel it.

Gabby pulls me closer as she introduces herself. “I’m Gabby. Are you new?”

The girl nods and looks like she’s about to pass out from nerves. “Maureen.”

When I don’t speak up for myself, Gabby continues, “This is Nathan. So, Maureen, are you single? Do you think my friend here is cute?”

I take a sip of my beer and it goes down all wrong, making my throat burn and my eyes water. When I can speak, I say, “Excuse her, too much time sniffing glue as a kid melted her brain.”

“Whaaat?” Gabby asks innocently.

“You can’t ask people things like that,” I mutter and offer Maureen an apologetic smile.

She giggles, and I know she’s not for me. It’s not a sound I can imagine hearing every day. Probably petty, but shouldn’t a guy want to hear his girl laugh?

“At least she didn’t eat it,” Maureen says.