The night was cool as we stepped outside. A safe distance from the building, I finally turned toward Tania expressing my frustration. “Oh my goodness. Could that have gone any worse? I mean, are there no normal guys in this city anymore?”

Tania remained silent. She was staring straight ahead with a small smile across her face.

“Helloooo. Are you even listening to me?” I snapped my fingers in front of her.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, finally making eye contact. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t think they were that bad.”

“Not that bad?! Seriously?” I asked, confounded. She had this weird, dazed look in her eyes. “What is with you?”

“Nothing,” she said defensively, still smiling.

“Are you thinking about that guy with the beard?”

“Zeeshan,” she said, her smile spreading into a grin. I hit her on the arm. She flushed a deep pink and turned away.

As Tania gushed about how quickly she and Zeeshan had hit it off and how she hoped he had selected yes for her too because she really wanted to see him again, I checked my phone to see two missed calls from my mother. My heart felt heavy with disappointment. I knew she was going to ask me about my night as soon as I got home, and I really wished I had better news.

I looked over at Tania. I hadn’t seen her this excited about a guy . . . ever. After everything she had been through in her past, she was more deserving of finding love than anyone, and I was glad she had made that connection. But her excitement just highlighted the fact that I had yet to feel the same way. Not once in this entire process had I felt the giddiness that she was experiencing now. That’s what love is supposed to feel like, right? I knew that the more dates I went on, the greater my chances would be of finding the one I was meant to be with. But as I listened to Tania recount every detail from her seven minutes with Zeeshan on the drive home, I was starting to wonder if a real connection was ever going to happen for me.

Summer Lovin’

School was finally out for the summer. After saying goodbye to the last of my students, I settled at my desk, grading papers and submitting final grades. Halfway through my third stack of essays, I heard a knock on my classroom door. “Come in,” I called out from behind a pile of papers. It was Tania.

She greeted me cheerily as she walked in carrying two iced tea lattes.

“Hey! I thought we were meeting at the Twisted Olive?” I said, glancing at the clock hanging above the door. My friends and I were going out tonight to celebrate the end of the school year, but also—and more importantly—to discuss the major problem we were facing (and by we I meant me). We were a month and a half into my three-month window, and I had yet to find a decent prospect. Time was slipping by, and we needed to come up with a solution. Fast.