6

Chloe

He's not gay. A gay man would never talk about having three girlfriends in high school. I'm just sitting here, watching as he takes my girlfriends to Comedy Lane. We haven't talked about me being rejected again. I guess it's a good thing—it's been hard for me to even think about it. It's better for me to watch this clown act like an idiot than to bring up my failure.

"Hey, Chloe," he calls me, and I put on my best fake smile—the kind that can convince you that I like you. "Who's your favourite comedy actor?" 

My girls are looking at me, and they seem brainwashed. I turn to face Chris, who has a genuine smile on his face. His smile looks more real than mine. I also don't know why he's asking this question. What does it have to do with our club? Sure, we talk about movies and music, but he's not supposed to know that. He just joined us.

"Uh, Chris Rock?" I say, and he snaps his fingers.

"I love that guy," he says, still looking at me. I want him to look away, so I can remove this fake smile and roll my eyes, but since he doesn't want to look away, I'll bring up something else.

"So, Chris, have you written any books?" I take a sip from my coffee.

"Oh, I don't write books. I'm a journalist," he replies. I feel like wiping that wide smile off his face.

"Oh, wow." Oh God, I think Cindy notices that my voice is fake because she's looking at me like I'm crazy. 

Well, I hope she does notice because I can't believe this. It's not that I hate all men; I just needed to hang around with women, so we can rant about how wrong Mr Moe was for rejecting my work. Now there's a man here who's going to tell me the same old thing: rejection is redirection.

Maybe I should stop thinking about this. There's no rule that says men aren't allowed. He looks nice either way.

"Yeah," he says. "I'm trying to get a job at ABC News. I have my job application ready and stuff. You guys wish me luck."

"Good luck," they all echo, smiling like maniacs. 

I don't even know why Aisha is blushing. She has a handsome and sexy fiancé; she doesn't need this guy to make her blush. Although, maybe he's able to make her blush because he isn't white. I did hear her say she will never find white guys attractive. At least she's crushing on someone who looks like he won't leave a woman after they've had sex.

"Okay, okay, it's been an hour. Since Chris is new, let's hear him talk about his favourite books, the best book-to-movie adaptations, and his favourite authors."

Great, another opportunity for him to open his mouth, and now I have to listen for the next two hours. Monet's has always been my comfort spot beside my home, but now it's not. Maybe I'm being too dramatic, and I should give this guy a chance.

After hearing him say he loved reading high school romance novels, I was taken aback. A man admitting that he likes romance novels? That's amazing. Now I'm all ears. I love a man who's not afraid to speak his truth. Why didn't I have sex with him instead?

We're done with the club, and I've got to say, I misjudged Mr Joshua, and I shouldn't have. He's not just a male; he's a male feminist. He disagrees with almost everything his toxic

 male friends have done. Technically, they're not his friends, but still.

I also told everyone that I got rejected again, and their focus was on me. Christian also gave advice.

"Just look at the things that your publisher doesn't like and don't change them. Just make them stronger and better," he said. I was happy and grateful he said that because all I've been hearing is "rejection is redirection." And I got tired of hearing that shit.

The girls are talking to each other, and I'm about to join them when Christian stops me to talk. Does he always smile a lot? Even when I put on a fake smile, my mouth hurts. Smiling is hard. This man was someone I wanted to disappear, but now I kinda like that he's here. I also realize that he's cute as hell. Maybe I should forget about white guys and start spending time with men like Christian, who have pink lips and smooth brown skin. I wonder what his lips feel like.

I need to slap myself for thinking that way.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I reply. He smells like breath mints and flowers. A man who smells good turns me on. That guy I had sex with also smelled good. And I should stop thinking about that guy and start thinking about how I'm going to perfect my work. I shouldn't be thinking about guys at all.

"I just wanted to tell you, you've got this. Don't let some old fart tell you that you can't do anything." He sounds so confident. We just met, and he already believes in me. I'm here blushing like an idiot. What the fuck is wrong with me sometimes? "Wait, the guy is old, right?" he asks, and we giggle.

I nod, "Yes, yes he is."

"They always are," he says.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" We laugh again, and I try my best not to blush, but it's too late. I'm sorry, but it's quite impossible not to blush in front of this fine specimen of a man. Now I get why the girls were all giggly and shit. Everything about this guy is neat—his clothes, his nicely cut fade. Everything.

"Anyway, I've gotta go. I have to see if they've accepted the job offer or not."

"I hope you get the job." Uh-oh, I've got my flirty voice on—the voice I used to seduce my roommate's boyfriend into having sex with me, the voice I used on that bartender to get more drinks, the voice that creepy man must have heard and made him think about wanting to talk to me, and the voice I used on that hot guy last night. Now I'm using it on this bookworm. Who knew male bookworms were hot?

"Alright, see you around." I wave, and he goes out the door. He didn't even ask for my number. That proves it—he doesn't like me like that.

The girls want to go to the club to have fun, but I decline. I want to go home and just work. I don't have the strength for fun at the moment.

"Are you sure, hun?" Cindy asks. "It's going to be just us girls, no hot, I mean, no Christian..." We all laugh. "You guys know what I mean."

"Yeah, and Aisha, is it too late to break up with your fiance?" Lexi jokes, and Aisha giggles.

"Nope. He's just as handsome as Mr. Christian," she says confidently.

"Is that so?"

"Yep."

"If you say so."

I shake my head, and I'm smiling.

These girls are messed up.

"Okay, if that's what you want," Cindy says, then hugs me. The girls do the same, and we say goodbye to each other and go our separate ways.

I turn around and bump into someone. My bag falls to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," we both say, and he picks up my bag and hands it over to me. I can't believe it—it's him, the guy I had sex with last night. He looks at me like he's seeing a ghost. Ugh! I feel like slapping his handsome face right now.

"You again," I say, then I fold my arms. 

I honestly didn't want to see this clown again. Well, maybe I did want to see him, to tell him how disgusting it was to leave without saying anything. Thanks to the universe, I can confront this rude fool without hesitation, no matter how attractive or charming he may appear.