4: I Haven't Dated A Fetish Yet

My hopes and dreams are crushed when I catch a flash of red hair. The smile on my face is forced, but it's ignored as Eden quickly apologizes, “sorry, someone was being indecisive and then she snagged her nose ring which had her tearing up and then her mascara smeared.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m a mess,” she jokes before leading us out the door.

“I’m more than happy to order room service and stay in. No decision necessary, mascara free night. Maybe you can even do a little spying.” This would be the only time I would influence her poor choice in men.

She seems more shocked by my offer than I thought she would be. “I would never choose a boy over you two.” Silence. Wait for it. “Except for that one time.” She holds up her index finger and thumb, nearly pinching them together, “I was close, like this close, but I didn’t.”

Because he was a douchebag. The relationship lasted two weeks. She wouldn’t have chosen him over us for very long. “What was his name?” I question. “Fitz…Flash…”

“Fetish,” Eden blurts out.

A rush of laughter bursts from my lips so forcibly that I actually spit. “He was a fetish wasn’t he.” Lyra’s fetish. There’s no stopping the contagious laughter that leaves me breathless. Lyra tries to calm us down by telling us that his name was Felix.

Barely getting the words out, I reply, “he seemed more like a Flex to me.” As he was always flexing his mini muscles at every opportunity he got.

This has Eden doubling over and stumbling in her heels. She wheezes the truth, “he was. He was.” She flexes her own biceps ready to do her impression of him. “Always.” She puckers her lips, deepens her voice, “look at these, babe,” she mocks.

Lyra doesn’t have a choice but to join in the laughter. She knows full well that she only dated him because he was a Flex and maybe a Fetish too. My eyes are watering to the point my vision is blurred and my stomach is burning. “Oh, cramp. Cramp.” The painful spasm of my ab muscles sober me up.

And good thing too because we come to a stop in front of Lyra’s chosen restaurant. We barely get ourselves composed before we enter. The hostess gives us a double take, eyeballing us with speculation as she leads us to a table.

Slipping into the booth, almost immediately after the hostess leaves, Lyra blurts out, “he was a Flex wasn’t he?”Another round of laughter erupts between us. Accept this time it’s a little more strained as we don’t want to gain unwanted attention. “I haven’t dated a Fetish yet.” She admits.

“Key word: yet.” Eden adds as her eyes stare at something across the room. “But I think I found a perfect example of one.”

We follow her gaze and I nearly choke on my tongue. You’ve got to be kidding me. Lyra on the other hand is ecstatic. She’s so happy that she goes as far to wave at them. Out of all the places to eat Lyra chose here. Where did she find this restaurant? Did she overhear them talking about it? Did they tell her they were coming here when she was in the pool with them yesterday?

Nox, Silas and Stryker sit in a corner booth with three girls, one of which is the one I saw in the hall. Apparently, she was on her way for a night out with them.

“Can I make it very clear that I do not want to be dragged into your newfound fetishship.” I whine.

“Maybe you need a little bad boy in order to change things up.” Lyra retorts. And now she’s throwing my past relationships in my face. “Don’t get me wrong, you and Wes were perfect until you broke his heart and things got weird.”

Wes was perfect, too perfect, too understanding. And Lyra is right, it got weird. He was closer to my dad than he was to me. Even after our break up, he still talks to my father. They’re like friends or something. And they talk about me behind my back. It’s how he found out the truth…or a version of the truth. My father divulged details about my mother being murdered. After people find something like that out, they treat you differently. Like you're a fragile doll that will shatter with the slightest touch.

She continues oblivious to my growing annoyance, “Wes is like the scarecrow. He doesn’t have a brain, so he has no clue as to when to give up.”

The analogy is offensive to me for some reason even though it's spot on. I don’t always date brainless men.

Eden quickly blurts out, “And Lyra here only dates tin men because none of them had a heart.”

The sharp inhale of breath from Lyra is fake and forced. “That is…true. Regrettably true.” Her eyes shift to Eden, “but shall we not forget that Eden is surrounded by cowardly lions as none of them have enough courage to ask her out.”

“True as well. I can’t help that I have resting bitch face.” She says it so seriously that we’re afraid to laugh at the said comment.

Before any of us can speak a single word, my phone rings, startling the three of us. Turning it over, I expect to see my dad’s picture pop up, but it’s far from it. Eden causally leans over to sneak a peek, “speak of the devil,” she coos.

Lyra is clearly amused. “Holy shit. Really?” For some reason this is all mildly hilarious to her. A swat has her shutting her mouth.

With Lyra slapped silent, it’s Eden that tells me I should answer it. I don’t. I let it ring right to voicemail and if he leaves a message it’ll go straight to the trash. I don’t need to speak to him to know why he’s calling. He knew I was coming here and he didn’t like that I came without him. Even though he was unable to come along anyways.

Almost immediately, Lyra’s phone starts to ring. Her face lights up as she waves the screen in my face, “well looky looky. Now he’s calling me. I knew it was a good idea to give him my number.” That isn’t exactly how it went. I gave him her number pretending it was my own. What can I say, I have trust issues.

“Lyra.” I threaten. “Don’t.” But before I can force her into submission, she answers it.