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CHAPTER1
Star
DECEMBER 13TH
Unknown: Carly, it’s Leon, I need you on Christmas Eve. Let me know if you’re free.
Staring down at my phone, it’s obvious this isn’t meant for me. The name Carly is the first hint. Coming from a man, is the second. The possibility of being asked out, is the third.
I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin, probably the oldest in existence, and the only one who’s never even been kissed let alone on a date.
And so the conundrum begins.
To answer or not.
Unknown: Come on Carls, I know you’ve read it.
Well, I guess that’s my answer.
Me: Hi, I think you have the wrong number. No one named Carly here, just boring old Star.
After I hit send, I want to smack my own head.Boring old Star?Idiot. When I see the read marker under my message and he doesn’t message back, I close my phone and toss it on the bed near my hip.
Staring through the skylight above my bed, counting stars, I wonder if I’ll ever meet the man of my dreams. My parents have that epic, can’t breathe, can’t eat, can’t sleep, love so strong, nothing could tear them apart kind of relationship.
One I want.
Once I moved back home at the end of summer, they immediately went on a worldwide traveling adventure. Something I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a small girl. I was invited to go with them, take a year off after I’d finished college, but like them, I wanted to go with my soul mate.
My entire life, I’ve never left Westchester County, staying mostly in my hometown of Scarsdale, except for when I attended college in White Plains and traveling to New Rochelle once in a blue moon for a change of pace.
I’ve been looking for an adventure my entire life and I’ve yet to find even an ounce of one anywhere close. The saddest part about living in New York state is I’ve never even been to Manhattan.
Just once I’d like to be the girl asked on a date or get lost in the mountains and find some sexy mountain man like in the novels I read. Instead, I’m boring old Star. Destined for loneliness and to become some crazy cat lady in the next ten years. I ignore my vibrating phone down by my leg and continue to wallow in self-pity until curiosity gets the best of me.
Unknown: Can’t be boring with a name like Star ??
So he’s a flirt.
Me: My life story says otherwise.
Why am I doing this to myself?
I’m a glutton for punishment. It’s the only thing to make sense.
Unknown: Tell me about it…
Who even is this guy?
Me: It’s boring. I’m boring.
If he only knew how boring, he’d stop texting me. Maybe he gets his kicks this way? Number neighboring his way through some phone list and having fun teasing girls with interest.
Even as I think it, I know how ridiculous I’m being. Doesn’t stop the deprecating thoughts from surfacing however. I simply can’t help it.
Unknown: Tell me something. Anything at all.
Is this guy for real?
