"I think I know a guy that became single a little while back," Ari says. Today we're eating lunch at a 24-hour breakfast joint. Her voice is getting desperate.
It must be hard for them to come up with all of these diverse single friends to send me out on dates with. I must seem really picky. At least all of these dates so far are really solidifying the fact that I'm right about my sexual orientation. I'm learning how unattractive I really find guys and a lot about what I'm not interested in in general.
"I don't know him too well but he was dating a girl for like three years so I guess she must have thought he was worth staying with," Ari shrugs. I don't know if I even like the sound of that much baggage.
"At this point, that sounds good to me. His name is Vince Cartram," she says.
"The name sounds familiar. I guess I've seen him in one of my classes or something," Brent pipes up. "He's our age, right?" Ari nods. I've never heard the name before.
"I think he's around our age. I'll need to call like two people to get his number probably. I'll be back in a bit," she says, swiping her phone out of her pocket and heading out of the diner.
"I hope you're not too tired from all of the dates so far. I'm sorry they haven't gone too well," Leah consoles me. I poke at my plate of scrambled eggs and shrug.
"It's been tiring but otherwise it's okay. I feel like the few times that things have gotten close to intimate, they've felt wrong, and," I pause. "Some of the guys are kind of nice but just not my type."
"Well, maybe this guy will be the lucky one," Ari suggests. I let out a weak laugh, seriously doubting her. When will my friends actually see that my type is just girls?