It's a Date (Again)

by Jeneva Rose

Robbie dramatically extends a metal pointer stick. It clicks as it grows in length to nearly three feet. “No,” he says. “We have all gathered to ensure you make the right decision, and the only way to do that is by having all of the information. This will lessen the risk of heartbreak and potentially picking the wrong guy. Assessing risk is my specialty.”

“I’ve conducted a digital deep dive on each of Peyton’s suitors, and I found some interesting and less than interesting things during my research.

Robbie continues. “Tyler’s background check came back pretty clean. A couple of traffic violations for speeding, which tells me he moves fast . . . probably in relationships too.” He raises an eyebrow and taps his pointer stick at the easel.

Robbie turns over the page on the easel, revealing a new sheet. Written in large, bold letters is the word Nickelback. “Noooo!” Maya yells.

“It’s something we don’t talk about. Very taboo, Debbie.” He looks to me. “But I’m sorry to break the news to you, Peyton. He’s a fan of Nickelback.” Robbie lowers his head.

“I thought you’d say that.” Robbie lifts his chin, and a look of determination comes over him. “There’s more.” He glances at the easel and sighs, lifting the sheet of paper. A large blown-up picture is taped to it. Robbie taps the end of his pointer stick against the paper. “Look at this photograph,” he says in a husky, singsong voice. It’s a photo of Tyler standing shoulder to shoulder with four guys. NICKELBACK MEET AND GREET is written on a banner hung above them. “He’s a superfan!”

Robbie flips the piece of paper, revealing a drawing of a rat in a chef hat. Written at the top is Nash Doherty. Just like with Tyler, there’s a bulleted list beneath it. “Why is he a rat?” I ask. “Like in Ratatouille,” Robbie says. “He’s a Disney character that helps an inexperienced chef cook.”

“No, that’s why he’s Remy the rat from Ratatouille.” He points to the picture again. “Never mind.”

“But wait, there’s more,” Robbie adds dramatically in an infomercial-like voice. He slowly turns the page, revealing the word RELATIONSHIP written in all caps. A red circle is drawn around it with a line slashed through the middle. “What does that mean?” Debbie asks. “It means he has never been in a serious relationship,” Robbie explains. “Red flag.” Maya puts her hand up. “Maybe he hasn’t found the right person,”

“Wait, have I had any serious relationships?” Robbie, Maya, and Debbie each deliver a sympathetic look. “Not super serious,” Maya says.

“They just weren’t right for you.” Robbie pulls his brows together.

lean back into the cushion and put a pillow in my lap, folding my arms over it. “It sounds like I’m a red flag too.” “No, sweetie.” Debbie gives me an endearing look. “You’re like a walnut, tough to crack.”

“You have three guys vying for you, and any one of them would be lucky to be with you,” Robbie says. His face has turned serious. “Trust me, Peyton, you’re not hard to love.”

“So.” I lift my chin. “I’ve got a Nickelback fan, Mr. No Relationships, and Mr. Lots of Relationships.” “Nickelback superfan,” Robbie corrects.

“I am happy.” “Good.” He nods. “Because that’s all I care about.” I pull my chin in and really stare into those blue eyes of his, searching them. “Are you happy, Robbie?” He hesitates. “I am if you are.”

I wait a few minutes and whisper his name again. His breathing slows and deepens. When he doesn’t respond, I know it’s because he’s fallen asleep. I close my eyes and smile, feeling safe and warm and knowing I’ll sleep much better tonight.

MICHAEL SCOTT’S DUNDER SCRANTON MEREDITH MEMORIAL CELEBRITY RABIES AWARENESS FUN RUN RACE FOR THE CURE. I know Debbie said I was a good person, but I had no idea I was into rabies charities. Must be a passion of mine.

“It’s strange. It’s like there’s nothing guiding me. You know? Most of what we do and say is dictated by our past experiences. But mine is a blank page. And sometimes I can sort of feel the memories, but I don’t know what they are.” I swirl a fry in the garlic aioli. “What do you mean you can feel them?” “Like I’ll do something or taste something or smell something, and it’ll be familiar and comforting. But I don’t know why it is,” I say, eating the warm, crunchy french fry.

“Was that our first kiss?” I look up at him. “Yeah.” He blushes. “How’d you know?” “I could feel it.”

“Speak of the devil,” he says. I turn my head, following his line of sight. Standing at the bar, dressed in blue jeans, workman boots, and a flannel shirt is Tyler.

“It’s like it’s meant to be,” Robbie says in a monotone voice. When

“I’ve gotta be your wingman,” Robbie says with a can-do attitude. “I don’t want you to be my wingman.” I clench my teeth. “I wanted to have dinner with you.”

“Can I get two more beers?” Robbie asks, gesturing to Tyler’s glass and his own. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Tyler lifts his hand to protest. “Put them on my tab,” he says to the server. “Nope, I got it,” Robbie insists. He sits up a little taller in his seat and puffs out his chest. I don’t know if he even realized he did it.

“Good. Robbie just cares a lot, and he’s worried that I’m rushing into all of this.” He delivers a concerned look and finishes chewing before he speaks. “Do you feel like you are?” “No. I mean, I got hit by a car trying to tell the person I love that I want to be with them, so I think I owe it to myself to find out who it is.” “I think you do too.” Tyler nods and drinks his beer. “Any update on your memories?”

Robbie waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, whatever, caveman.” His words slur, and his head lolls to the side. I shoot him a disappointed look.

He drunkenly smiles. “Alcohol.” He tries to make a serious face. “I think Tyler’s a bad influence. Look how drunk he got me.”

“You did that all on your own.” I stare at him, my lips forming a straight line. The corner of his mouth curves up. “No, I didn’t. It was all Tyler. Probably should break it off with him.”

“Fine, it was me,” he admits. “But I was testing him, and he failed my test.” “Oh yeah?” I say. “How did Tyler fail?” “Peer pressure. He gave in. He’s too easily influenced. That’s not the type of man you want.”

“Yeah, well, I need to adjust some of my test parameters. But he still failed . . . mis . . . er . . . ab . . . ly.”

Robbie stops abruptly and pulls away. He stumbles backward into a fence and stares at me through bloodshot, half-open eyes. “Do you really like him?”

Debbie takes one step back and surveys him. She folds her arms across her chest. “You’re the one that’s supposed to be taking care of Peyton. Not the other way around.” “I did by testing Tyler’s ability to withstand peer pressure. He failed, by the way. He’s no good.”

He swivels his head toward me and leans it against mine. “You smell nice.”

“I can’t believe you thought I was trying to run the clock out on our pact.” I help him get his jacket off, unzipping, sliding it off his arms, and tossing it aside. “Yeah, and I can’t believe you forgot about our pact.”

We stare at one another for a moment, but it’s one of those moments you can fill a lifetime in. “I didn’t forget about it,” he says under his breath.

Robbie lowers his chin. “Maybe you were right about the pact. Maybe it wasn’t silly.”

“No, it was. No one makes a relationship pact when they’re nineteen and follows through on it.” I smile back at him, trying to make the conversation a little lighter. “Besides, you said we wouldn’t work together.”

He doesn’t return the smile. He just stares back at me with those cloudy blue eyes and nods. “I say a lot of things.”

I know he’s going to wake up tomorrow feeling horrible, and I feel bad, so I want to take care of him like he’s done for me. Quietly, I race around my apartment, gathering items for him. I grab Tylenol, a bottle of water, a packet of electrolytes, and a granola bar. I splay them out on the nightstand and leave a handwritten note that reads: Morning, Robbie. Hope you feel better. Xo, your dame in shining armor, accompanied by amnesia.

“I think he’s just worried,” Debbie says. “About what?” “Losing you.”

“You didn’t. I just . . . I just wish I remembered them.” I lower my head and chew my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “You will, honey, and deep down, I think you do. It’s why you leave the two bites.” Her hand squeezes mine. “That’s right. But Robbie keeps eating them.” I let out a laugh mixed with a cry.

“He does that because it became more of a sad reminder for you rather than a sweet remembrance. At some point, seeing the food left on your plate stopped helping you cope, and Robbie noticed how it was affecting you, so he started eating your last two bites, and then it just became a cute thing between you two.”

“Fine. I think Robbie was being a little flirty with me.”

“So, you got a man?” I glance over at the bar. Robbie’s back is to me, and he’s busy ordering drinks from the bartender.

“No, I’m playing get the hell away from me.” “You heard her.” Robbie strolls around the table, closing the distance between himself and the guy. The creep stands and scowls. “She’s a slut anyway.” Without hesitation, Robbie throws a fist right into his jaw. It makes a crunching sound. I hope it’s from the man’s chin and not Robbie’s hand.

Anthony bumps his shoulder into her. “And it’s nice to have a break from her making jokes about me.” “And her forcing me to heckle her,” Robbie adds. “I appreciate all of your contributions to my comedy material.” Maya glances at each of us. She pauses and raises a brow at me.

Maya presses her lips together, moving them side to side. “Sounds like he’s not entirely invested. You should probably cut him.”

“Sounds like you got some good ones to choose from.” He nods. My eyes land back on Robbie. He’s leaned over the bar, chatting with the pretty bartender. She tosses her head back and laughs. “Yeah, I guess I do,” I say.

Robbie shuffles the cake box to one hand, palming it. He wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Peyton’s going to get her heart rate back down to normal, and then she’ll be back out to mingle,” he announces to the room and seals it with a wide grin.

“How else was I going to size up these guys?” I point at her. “I knew that’s why you planned this.” “But.” She holds her finger up. “I know you’ve been struggling with figuring out who you love, so Robbie, Debbie, Anthony, and I are here to help. It’s a win-win.”

“Wait, is most all this stuff for my surprise party?” Debbie nods. “You told me it was for a retirement party!” She lifts her chin and smirks. “And you didn’t even realize I was lying. That’s why you need me to figure out who the liar is.”