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“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He’s so … dreamy, isn’t he?”
“Harry Styles? Yeah, sure,” I reply, pretending not to understand what she meant.
“Evan!!” she bursts out. “I was talking about Evan!! Gosh, he’s so handsome and smart and those pictures that you posted of him were just … chef’s kiss.” She makes that gesture in which she brings her fingers to her lips and kisses them, trying to show me how much she likes Evan.
I’m starting to feel more and more uncomfortable now. “Evan is a great guy, yes. He’s my best friend,” I try to keep the conversation civil.
“Exactly!” she says. “And that’s what I was meaning to talk to you about. Listen, Emmy. I really want to ask Evan out. I’ve been hanging out at his gym, following him on Instagram and all that, but I think it’s time to step up my game. But I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Umm … Carol, look. You don’t have to ask for my permission to ask Evan out. We’re just friends. Best friends. But I do have to warn you that—”
“I’m not asking for your permission!” She starts to laugh.
In the emptiness of the beauty store at this dead hour of lunch, her laugh sounds like a shriek, mocking me and piercing my heart.
“Yeah, sure … that’s not what I meant…” I mumble.
“Emmy, I wanted to talk to you because I want you to give me some tips,” she says.
“Tips? What do you mean?”
“Well, you are his best friend, like you said. Who knows him better than you? So, come on! Tell me! What can I do to win him over? What does he like? What does he hate? What should I wear? What are his fantasies? You know, stuff like this!” She leans even more over the counter and looks deeply into my eyes.
I have a gross feeling that I’m back in high school all of a sudden, chatting about boys with a fifteen-year-old girl. “Ummm … Carol … this is … this is … you know what? I’ll tell you!”
An idea strikes me.
“Yaaay!!”
“So, get this, Evan loves boxing.”
“Boxing?” her eyes grow wide.
“Yes. As a doctor … who has dedicated his life to healing and saving people, there’s nothing he likes more than to sit back and watch people punching each other in the face,” I start to invent wildly.
“Really? Is that so?”
“Oh, absolutely! He says it’s what keeps him in business. Boxing is what keeps hospitals open! The more people hit each other, the happier he is. So, next time you see him or … you know … stalk him at the gym, tell him this. He’ll see that you have the same ideas! Or, better yet, invite him to a boxing match!”
She looks at me like a happy puppy who’s been given a treat. “This is amazing! Yes, yes! What else? Tell me more. What else does he like?”
“Hmm, let’s see. Junk food. He thinks all children should be put on a strict junk food diet.”
“Really? But he’s a doctor!” Carol says.
“That’s the point. He thinks it’ll build up their immune system.”
“Oh, wow … I never knew!”
“Yeah, go figure. He also really loves conspiracy theories. Big, big fan! So, you can invite him over to your apartment to watch some Ancient Aliens, something about how Atlantis was real, how the ancient Romans had electricity. That one really gets him going!” I tell her and try not to laugh.
“Oh my goodness, I love those shows!” she says. “Can you believe it?”
“Honestly, Carol? Yes, I can.”
“What else? What kind of movies does he like?”
