The dating debacle, p.1
The Dating Debacle, page 1
Erin Lisbeth
The Dating Debacle
Copyright © 2024 by Erin Lisbeth
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Never give up on dreams
and happily ever afters
CHAPTER ONE
Ilook to my right as I hear Jake sigh over the sound of a hockey stick hitting a puck. He’s wiping a layer of sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his blue jersey. The sight of the darkened material turns my stomach. I don’t know when it started, but all those traits of his that I used to think were adorable now make me cringe. Those kissy noises he used to make from across the room, as he called me, or the red ball cap he used to wear, which smelled like feet. Why does it even smell like feet?
I take a sip of my drink and turn back to the game. The scoreboard reads 2-1. Last month, I bought Jake these tickets for his birthday. Hockey is more his thing, but I don’t mind going to a game or two. I look around, hearing people shout out the names of their favorite players. Crossing my arms, I tug my sweater tighter around me to block out the cool air from the ice below.
Two players body check the guy with the puck into the boards, and I hear Jake sigh again, raising his arm and checking his watch. I ignore him and turn back to the game.
Jake and I have been together for two years. We met at a little diner one night after a few too many drinks and a lot of karaoke. My friends and I had been out celebrating a friend’s birthday.
Lucy, Briar, and I have been friends since college. Lucy and I had shared a tiny dorm room that barely fit more than our two single beds and a desk each. You can say we had no choice but to be up in each other’s business.
I studied English literature while Lucy focused on communications and media. We met our friend, Briar, during our second year when we teamed up one night at the on-campus pub, where a heated game of trivia was taking place. The theme of the night was TV sitcoms and movies. You can say we had it in the bag, and after that, the three of us became inseparable.
After our night of karaoke, we walked out into the brisk, frigid air and followed the crowd of people on the street, all in desperate need of some greasy food. We saw a diner across the street with its glowing sign advertising that it was open 24 hours, and we knew they had a reputation for making amazing pulled pork poutine. We made our way through the crowded diner until we found a large booth occupied by two guys with room to spare.
The moment our eyes met, I felt a spark with Jake. He had crystal blue eyes and thick blond hair. The kind you want to run your hands through. Lucy slid right into the booth and motioned for the guys to move over and make room for us. We ordered lots of food and water and laughed until the sun rose.
When we left the diner that morning, Jake and I exchanged numbers, and by that afternoon, I had a text from Jake asking me out on a date. It didn’t take long before I was spending all my time at his apartment.
He lived in a much larger place than mine, and although he had two roommates who were a bit on the messy side, I was head over heels for Jake. I wanted to be around him as much as possible. He was an obvious sports fan, who not only loved to watch hockey but also played a few times a week. I was in awe of his amicable but loud personality and the confidence he exuded, something I sometimes lacked.
As time went on, that loud personality became obnoxious, and the confidence seemed a bit more egotistical than I was comfortable being around. Things just changed. The rose-colored glasses were off, and I was having second thoughts. We had gone from spending most of our weeknights together to once or twice a week in the last few months.
Jake glances at me as I sip my drink a little too loudly, trying to get the last few drops of it through the paper straw that is now starting to deteriorate. I place my cup under the empty seat next to me.
The crowd is cheering as the scoreboard changes to 3-1. The noise level is rising, and people are getting up from their seats and singing along to the music. I can feel the bass vibrate through the bottoms of my feet. Jake, who usually loves this sort of thing, is still sitting, looking nervous. I turn to him, crossing my arms to stay warm, wishing now that I had not left my oversized puffer coat in the car, but it would hardly fit in the chair with me.
“What’s going on? Are you not feeling well tonight?” I ask, seeing sweat appear on his forehead once again.
He wipes it with the back of his hand, turning to me with a nervous grin. How is he sweating, and I am here shivering? My toes feel like ice cubes as I look down towards my feet, wiggling them in my gray faux-suede ankle boots.
“I’m good, Sof. I kind of wanted to talk to you.”
I lean into him, not sure if I heard him right. The crowd is clapping and singing to the music, drowning out the sounds of the skates gliding across the ice.
Jake turns in his seat to face me directly. As though he is trying to find his keys, he places his hands inside his pockets. Jake’s gotten a little OCD about his keys since last winter when we got locked out of his car after a movie one night. It had been -15, and we had to wait outside for a cab to come and help us break into his car. The keys had fallen on his seat. It had kind of turned into a romantic night. Jake embraced me under the light post, shielding me from the cold. Snow was falling from the sky, and I nestled into his neck, breathing in his musky scent. Those moments were few and far between now. Maybe Jake was starting to feel the distance between us as I have. I know I should have spoken to him about this sooner. Life just kind of got busy, and we were familiar.
I spend most of my days at this cute shop where I work. Plants, Pottery & Books is sort of like my second home. I work in the back, in the tiny used bookstore. We have a lot of regular customers who I have grown to love, and of course, there’s Ben.
Ben’s uncle owns the shop. His uncle took him in when his parents passed away, so the shop is sort of his second home too, I guess. I like to call him my work BFF, but he usually just grins and ignores that statement. Work is always more fun with a friend.
I’ve been working at Plants, Pottery & Books for just over two years. I found the job in the last few months before graduation, when I was running out of my student loan and needed some extra money. Working at the shop allows me time to freelance. I guess I sort of put work and my friends ahead of Jake these days. We just have little in common anymore, and I can’t see him being the one.
I guess this is it. We’re probably breaking up. The thought isn’t making me feel overly sad. I feel myself frowning while I think about this. Shouldn’t I feel sad? I guess that is probably a good sign that this is the right thing to do.
“What’s going on?” I raise my voice so he can hear me, leaning in closer. I can smell the face cream I bought him. It took me forever to get him to use a cleanser instead of washing his face with shower gel.
“Score!” someone yells behind us. I turn to see a group of guys with their arms raised above their heads, laughing and cheering.
“This isn’t the best place or time to talk, Jake. Maybe we can talk after the game?” I ask, turning back to him.
Jake looks at me, shaking his head. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to do this.” He plays with the zipper on his coat, moving it up and down on its track, my eyes following the movement.
I get the whole pulling off the Band-Aid, but this is hardly the place to do it, I think to myself, wiggling my toes more, trying to build some heat in my boots.
“Why don’t we take off early, then? I can barely hear you,” I say loudly, pushing my hair aside as I lean towards him once again.
People are getting up from their seats as the intermission begins. I turn my legs to the right of me to let a few people pass by. Someone steps on my frozen toes as they squeeze past me. I squint, feeling it radiate up my foot. Ugh, I could use a warm bath right now, with a good book and a glass of wine.
Jake shakes his head again, grabbing one of my hands with his. I look him in the eyes and notice the look of happiness that has settled across his face.
Well, that’s weird. I mean, yeah, it’s for the best, but could he pretend to be sad just a bit?
We were together for two years. It’s not like a casual dating situation. I have a whole drawer at his apartment, as well as many pairs of shoes and some of my best face creams. I’l l have to go back to his place. I can’t live without my eye cream and lip gloss. Plus, Jake has a few things at my place too. He could probably live without his sweats and a hoodie or two, but it makes little sense to keep his stuff, either.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t judge him for feeling some type of relief since I am now more worried about my abandoned beauty products than the breakup itself.
Jake is gazing at me. I am suddenly thinking about the cute little clutch I left there last week.
Oh. My. God, Sofia. Pay attention. This dude is about to break up with you, and all you can think about is your inventory at his place.
I try to focus on Jake, bringing my awareness back to him and placing my hand on top of his. If being dragged to yoga once a week by Briar has taught me anything, it is to be present. I’m a work in progress. Rome wasn’t built in a day. I look up at Jake again as he lets go of my hand. I see him take something out of his pocket, and the next thing you know, he’s on the ground.
“Geez, Jake, get up from there. Do you know how gross these floors are?” I say, utterly disgusted. “What are you doing?” I feel my eyes roll before I can stop myself.
Jake looks like he has no intention of getting up. I see him get into a comfortable position that looks vaguely familiar.
Oh, hell no! What in the actual fuck is happening?
Jake grabs my hands once again and smiles shyly. I am going to throw up. Yes, I am going to throw up right here, right now, for everyone to see. With my luck, the Kiss Cam will come on, and everyone will see it. I will be known as that girl who threw up on her boyfriend as he proposed.
I try to pull back from his grasp, and I pull so hard that my hand whacks me in the forehead as it lets go of his grip. I rub the slightly sore spot above my right eye.
Perfect, this is going simply great. I look around to see if anyone has noticed Jake down on his knee. A few people are looking this way. I feel my cheeks flush.
I am so embarrassed. We have never, not once, spoken about getting married. We aren’t even living together. There are steps you must take. Everyone knows it! First, you date, then you’re a couple, then you move in with each other, then you get married. Plus, I thought he was about to break up with me! I stare at him in disbelief.
“Sofia, you mean so much to me,” Jake starts.
Oh, God, he is going there. I feel so bad. I force myself to turn away, looking down at the floor.
“Sofia, please look at me.”
I turn back to face Jake, feeling a lump in my throat, not quite sure if that is the vomit that is about to come up or if I am going to burst into tears. Either one would not be ideal right now. I’m a crier. Stressed, embarrassed, sad, or even hangry, yup, I cry. I would say that I’m quite stressed right now. I can feel my underarms sweating profusely, and I no longer notice my frozen toes as heat creeps up my body.
“Do you remember the night we met?” Jake is still staring, now waiting for a reply.
“Uh, yes, Jake, I do…” I start to reply, but Jake cuts me off mid-sentence.
“I felt an instant connection the moment our eyes met. You have become not only my best friend but my soul mate,” Jake continues.
A small laugh escapes me. My hand flies up to my mouth to cover it as if I can take back the laugh or stop the words that are about to spill out.
“Jake, come on. You know I don’t believe…”
“Yes, yes, Sofia, I know you don’t believe in soul mates, and that’s okay. I do. I know we are perfect for each other, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that we are.” Jake lets go of the one hand that didn’t manage to escape his grasp earlier.
Oh, here it comes. I swallow hard as the lump moves its way up my throat. I cringe at the sour taste in my mouth.
He looks down at the silver box in his hand. I hear a gasp and turn to see where it came from. I notice there are now quite a few people watching us and pointing. They don’t appear to be turning away anytime soon.
Who proposes at a hockey game during intermission, anyway? I’m not even a hockey person! People are standing and squeezing by, making their way through the rows, coming back from the washroom, or filling up their nachos or drinks. The music is blaring. This is hardly a romantic setting in front of all these strangers.
“Jake, listen,” I start to say. “Let’s get out of here and go talk,” I plead with a look in my eyes, willing him to catch that I’m not exactly feeling his vibe—this vibe.
Jake doesn’t appear to notice. If we were soul mates, wouldn’t he catch on?
Opening the box, I see a small princess-cut diamond sitting high on a simple gold band. It is pretty. Wow, look at that thing sparkle.
No, stop it, Sofia! Don’t let the bling blind you! I blink a few times and gather myself.
He raises his voice slightly to be heard over the music. “Sofia…” Jake is taking the ring out of the box.
“Jake, I’m serious. Please stop,” I say as my voice starts to quiver.
I grab the front of my sweater and start to pull it away from my skin as I suddenly feel hot and clammy. Jake doesn’t appear to be taking in any of what I am putting out. He is pulling the ring out of the box and holding it up to my ring finger.
Jake has a huge smile on his face. “Sofia, will you marry me?”
How can he be so oblivious?
Do I look happy right now?
Do I look like someone excited about what is happening?
Jake starts to slip the ring on my finger before I can even open my mouth to reply. I hear clapping coming from behind me and someone shouting, “She said yes!”
“No.” The word comes out harsher than I intended. Jake looks up at me as he finishes sliding the ring onto my finger. “I don’t want to get married, Jake,” I say a little softer. Jake’s eyes meet mine. I see a flash of pain cross over his face. “I’m sorry, Jake.” I start to pull off the ring.
A man is standing right behind Jake, carrying more than he seems capable of holding.
“Excuse me,” he says.
Jake turns around, still with one knee on the ground. I see one of the two drinks the man is balancing with what appears to be three slices of pizza start to waver.
The man’s eyes widen.
Before anyone can react, the drink falls from his grasp, landing on the floor right beside Jake and splashing him down his left side. Jake jumps up quickly from the shock of it.
He looks towards me, and I see anger setting in.
“I’m sorry, man, my bad.” The man shrugs. “But you’re not exactly in your seat now, are you?”
Jake slumps next to me to let the man pass, turning his legs away from me. He closes the ring box and puts it back into his pocket. The man walks past. I look down at the ring in my hand. He gets up and makes his way towards the aisle.
“Jake!” I yell after him, grabbing my purse that I had stuffed under my seat.
The bottom of the bag is damp from the drink that was just spilled. I get up and follow him out. He pushes his way through the people coming back from intermission.
“Jake!” I yell at him again, not knowing if he even heard me the first time.
He keeps walking. I break into a little jog, coming up behind him as he makes his way onto the escalator going down. I step on and start walking down the moving steps, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of walking on a moving escalator.
“Sof, just stop,” I hear him mutter.
“Look, Jake, I love you, but I just don’t think we’re working anymore, you know?” I say as I steady myself on the step beside him, grabbing onto the railing.
“No, Sofia, I don’t know. I just asked you to be my wife. I thought we were working.” Jake stares straight in front of him. I see his jaw clenched, his face hardened. We reach the ground floor and step off at the same time.
I grab his hand. “Jake, wait.” He stops, not turning to face me. Making my way in front of him, I place the ring in the hand I’m holding. “I’m sorry, Jake. I thought you were going to break up with me tonight, and I started thinking that maybe that was a good idea.” He winces, so I soften my voice. I feel my shoulders relax a little. “I just think we’ve grown apart. Can you really say you’re happy?”
Jake looks down at the ring he’s now holding, then back up to me. “Yeah, Sof, I was.” He’s walking again towards the exit. “Don’t follow me.”
