Glenn Bowman Allan Watts, known to me and everyone else simply as “G,” was my best friend and a terrible wingman. His idea of picking up a girl involved a series of pathetic one liners that never worked. Honestly, the one liners might work, but G routinely mangled them. I was forever trying to correct his terrible quotes.
“Dude, you’re like headlights, man. Stop staring at Rachel,” G replied.
Case in point. “I think you mean…”
“Dude, you gotta get over Rachel.”
I did not pout. Or slam my fist into his face. I sure as heck wanted to. “I am over her,” I ground out clearly and slowly.
G’s expression was all skepticism. “Dude, I AM!” I yelled.
Other eyes turned toward us, including Rachel’s. Feeling heat flood my face, I lowered my voice. “I am over her. I’m not over the Pinterest thing.”
G snickered. As much as I hated him for laughing at me, I could not blame him.
“Dude, girls are crazy over that stuff. All those pics of houses, weddings, and shit.” G flapped his hands around his face while rapidly blinked his eyes. It was appalling.
“Girls go all google-eyed over that stuff.” G glanced over at Rachel and her friends. “And you’re totally better off.”
On that last point we agreed. It rubbed me raw that Rachel dumped me. Her parting words were “I need Pinterest. I don’t need you.” Those words stabbed pretty deep. I got that Rachel was earning some money from the social media platform, but she was out of control over it.
“She’s on it right now.” Even today, outside because it was bright and unseasonably warm, I could see her across the basketball court at St. John’s Church with her head bent over the phone she held in her hand.
“Probably posting pics of her ex. You know, that guy who won’t get on with his life.” G smirked at his classy remark.
I tossed the ball at him. Hard. “I just haven’t found the right girl.”
“Man, you aren’t ever going to find a girl who doesn’t love Pinterest.” He slung the ball back at me. “Give up already.”
“I refuse to believe that every female is in love with Pinterest.” I threw the ball at his head.
Catching it easily, because G is as good with his basketball moves as he is bad with his quotes, G said, “You couldn’t find one girl on this whole campus who doesn’t love Pinterest. Let alone one you’d want to date.”
“Sure I could,” I scoffed with a snort. What a ridiculous idea!
G rolled the ball in his hands. I tensed knowing a wicked throw was coming. As it came barreling at me, he said, “Dare you.”
“Ugh.” The ball hurt my fingertips. He threw it that hard. I dribbled to cover while my fingers regained feeling. “Dare me to do what exactly?”
“Dare you to find a single girl who you want to date who doesn’t like Pinterest.”
The grin was starting to form as I looked up at him. Then I saw his smug look.
“By Valentine’s Day.”
“That’s less than two weeks!” I shouted. Again heads swiveled back our way. I waved, bounced the ball, and shot. Swish. A perfect basket.
It was that easy. Do a little dribbling, line yourself up, and shoot. Simple. Finding a girl who did not like Pinterest would be just as easy.
I grinned. G’s dare was nothing. It would be as easy as that lovely shot I had pulled off. And his smug look, like he knew I would fail, only sealed the deal.
Girlfriend Wanted: Must Hate Social Media Releases Tomorrow!
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