A Girl Like You by vinnie Kinsella (good books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

Curt put down a half-eaten wing and wiped his greasy face, leaving behind a smear of hot sauce on his chin that I didn’t bother to point out.

“Had a beautiful Husky, Mandy, but she slowed down after eight years, dragging her back legs and then her eyes kind of glazed over. Wife had the kids convinced Mandy would get better but she got worse. Lost control of her bodily functions so she was shitting all over the house and had to sleep in the garage.”

I closed my eyes, very sorry I’d brought the subject up.

“Told them it was time to put her down, but the kids kept saying I was going to kill their dog, so six months passed. One morning I got up and opened the garage door and blood was everywhere. Mandy had bitten through her own tail and bled out.”

I gagged on my asparagus, then took a long drink of my water to keep my food down.

“Excuse me.” I practically ran from the table to the ladies’ room. It was an image I would never forget.

I splashed water on my face then used a paper towel to wipe off my smeared mascara, taking a deep breath before returning to the table. All I wanted was to pay my half of the bill and get the hell out.

“I paid,” Curt said as if he’d done the most gallant thing in the world.

We put our coats on and left, pausing on the sidewalk while I fumbled in my purse for my car keys.

“Wanta come to my place for a few drinks?” Curt asked, leaning too close and breathing hot crab into my face.

“No thanks,” I said, stepping away.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely perplexed. “Thought we hit it off.”

“Really?” it was my turn to ask. “I don’t think so.”

Curt took a step toward me. “You know what your problem is? Women like you act one way when they text, then become a whole different person when we meet. Then you have to run because you can’t keep up the charade.”

What the fuck? I wondered.

I started to go, then turned back to Curt. “Here’s some advice. Don’t order hot crab dip and wings on a date. Don’t rant about your divorce that was five years ago. And for god’s sake, never tell that dog suicide story again.”

“Bitch,” he yelled as I hurried away.

I’d been emotionally catfished, thinking there was a connection that turned out to be a complete shit show. Then I squared my shoulders and marched to my car, quite proud of myself for knowing a loser when I had dinner with one. And for—almost—having the last word.

I was starting to learn how to recognize a really bad date when I was having one, and best of all, I learned how to get away with my dignity intact.

Something had changed in my months trying to successfully online date. I’d learned that people are extremely unpredictable and carried so much baggage it was a wonder they could stand up. I’d learned that every encounter carried a lesson. They were getting me one step closer to figuring out what I wanted, like Eddie had said when he’d sounded like an Oxygen channel movie. I’d learned to never give up.

But even if the universe didn’t send me whatever I was looking for, I was OK; I was good.

51

Well, go figure. One day, a guy walked right into the doctor’s office where Madison worked.

“Tell me everything,” I said as we settled at my kitchen table a week later.

I pushed my newest Amazon delivery box, a six-pack of florescent gym socks, under the table so she wouldn’t razz me about it.

“Mom, he’s so great,” Maddy gushed. “He’s twenty-four. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Really nice smile.”

“Does he have a name?” I poured us iced tea.

“Billy. His name is Billy.” Maddy stirred her tea. “Don’t you love it when people use their nicknames instead of formal names?”

“I do. I love being called Jessie.”

The back door slammed and Ian came in from the gym, tossing his backpack in the laundry room and going immediately to open the fridge.

We were silent.

“Sorry.” Ian’s head appeared above the fridge door to look at us. “Am I interrupting some mother-daughter thing?”

“Not at all, doodoo,” Madison said. “Pull up a chair.”

Ian grabbed a Chobani and settled down at the table.

“So Madison met someone,” I said, eager to catch him up.

“Really? Good for you!” He high-fived his sister. “Is he The One?”

Maddy flushed and she looked down at her hands. “I don’t even want to think about that. We just have a lot of fun together.”

Over iced tea and grilled cheese sandwiches, Madd told us all about Billy. They both liked kayaking, classic movies, ice skating, autumn, white chocolate, seafood, and the color green. He was the older of two boys, had grown up in Rochester, and wanted to be a doctor.

He was healthy, just going to see the doc for a physical for a rugby team.

“He was so nervous when he came in, he stumbled over the carpet and almost fell.” Maddy laughed. “He told me later it wasn’t going to see the doctor that had him all worked up, it was seeing me behind the reception desk.”

“Aww,” Ian and I said in unison.

“Where does he live?” I asked, clearing off the sandwich plates.

“An apartment in downtown Ashton.”

“You haven’t been there yet, right?” Ian said, suddenly serious.

“What? Yeah, I’ve been there. We’ve been dating a week, dumbo.”

“Oh no,” Ian sighed. “Tell me you haven’t had sex with him yet.”

Madison stared at him blankly. “We’ve been together practically every night for a week, Ian. What do you think?”

I honestly couldn’t tell either way what she meant, so I said nothing.

“God, Madd, you can’t give it up that early in a relationship! Now he has the upper hand!”

“How does he have the upper hand?” Madison said incredulously.

“Yeah, how does he?” I chimed in.

“He got what he wanted; now he has the power,” Ian said. “It’s up to him where things