The Science of Growing Apart

26- Enchiladas

The enchiladas were already in the oven when Emmett canceled our date with a text and then blocked my number.

In the mood for enchiladas? I texted Natalie as I leaned against my kitchen counter, wearing a tight black skirt and floral corset top. I looked hot, I straightened my frizzy hair, did my makeup, I wore tall heels and I made my bed. I never make my bed.

Natalie quickly texted back, clearly understanding the situation from that one question. I'm on my way.

Tulip allowed me to give her some head scratches, right between her ears, to help me feel better while I played my saddest playlist on Spotify. It consisted mostly of Taylor Swift's Red album (Taylor's Version, obviously), Liability from Lorde, and all of Adele's discography.

"I brought the good shit," Natalie announced upon her arrival, holding a bottle of fireball and a half gallon of apple cider. "Tell me what happened."

"He just told me that he couldn't make it tonight and then blocked me," I whined, dishing out two plates of enchiladas which, for the record, turned out really good. If Emmett would have made it to dinner, I bet he really would have wanted to have sex with me after tasting them.

"What an asshole," she shook her head, pouring two cups of spicy apple cider. "Well, you look stunning. We'll have a photo shoot, put it to good use."

"Why is dating so hard?" I whined as we sat at the table with our enchiladas and fireball. I deleted Tinder before I started to eat. "I just want somebody to love and adore me forever until the end of time and maybe rub my feet sometimes. Not too much to ask."

"I bet you'll find your person when you least expect it," she assured me. "And don't try to sleep with somebody just to distract yourself from another person."

"I wasn't," I denied quickly with a mouthful of mediocre veggie enchilada.

Natalie rolled her eyes at my obvious lie. "You skipped two dates to try and get this guy into bed. It was obviously because of Casey, and I think you need to unpack that."

"Maybe I skipped two dates because I haven't had sex in six months," I suggested, taking a big swig of my drink.

Natalie snatched my phone from the table to change the music and said, "We're not wallowing tonight, we're turning the night around. You can't listen to All Too Well and not be sad, we need happier music."

"My date with Emmett had nothing to do with Casey."

"Do some self reflection and come back to me when you realize what a pile of crap that is."

"I'm serious."

Natalie turned on a different playlist, one with the 1989 album and early 2000's pop music. Then, she raised her black eyebrows at me in bored disbelief. "Do you want to go brush your teeth now? Or do you think the enchiladas will be enough to overpower the taste of the bullshit that you're spewing?"

I stabbed into my enchilada. "Well, what do I do now?"

"You let him go, for real this time," she told me easily. "I know it sucks, but he's engaged, Josie. We've talked about this."

"He told me, a little bit ago, that he would check me out when we were in high school," I said to her between bites. "He even remembered a specific pair of shorts that I'd wear."

"Engaged," she said again.

"You're going to want to hit me over the head with a frying pan for bringing this up again," I warned her. "But he really sounded like he was reconsidering that engagement."