Puck Shy (Carolina Comets)

“I’m telling you, Harp, you should have seen the way he was looking at me. It was like he wanted to reach over the counter and strangle me.”

“Well, you did tell him his bald patch was blinding you.”

“Because it was!”

I laugh, shaking my head at my best friend, Ryan.

“You know we’re on FaceTime and I can see you, right?”

“Oh, I am well aware.”

She’s sitting outside of a coffee shop, sipping what looks like bitter black coffee and scarfing down her lunch while she’s on break from the salon.

We’re both artists in our own way. Her medium is makeup. Mine is…well, anything I can use to make something spooky.

I grab a zombie doll and hold it in front of the phone, and Ryan screams.

“Dammit, Harper! You know I hate those damn things!”

I laugh and set the doll aside.

“I seriously hate it when you’re in your studio on the phone. It’s so…creepy.”

She’s not entirely wrong. The walls are lined with movie posters, molds, and caster pieces, and horror-themed props are sitting everywhere. It’s unsettling for anyone not into the genre.

“All right, fine. I get the hint. Just let me finish up this cut real quick and I’ll take a break.”

Carefully, I move my scalpel through the belly of the doll, making sure I get the lines just how I want them, then pull the stuffing out and set it aside.

I’m left with a deflated baby doll that I’m going to cover with burlap, then fill with black moss and bugs and creepy crawly things to make a baby Oogie Boogie.

When I’m satisfied with my stopping point, I grab my phone and head out of my studio to the kitchen to make some coffee.

An order set to go out tomorrow catches my eye: a Freddy Krueger doll.

I instantly think of Collin.

I was crushed when he didn’t ask for my number. I wasn’t about to offer mine up so I could just be the pathetic girl who sits by her phone waiting for the mysterious, sexy stranger to call.

I might not be in the greatest state sex-life-wise, but I’m not that desperate…yet.

“All right. Run it by me again—what did this guy look like?” Ryan says like she knows I’m thinking about him.

I called her the morning after I dropped Collin off and told her everything. She was not happy about me letting a strange man into my car, but that was soon forgotten when I told her how hot he is.

There hasn’t been one day this week that she hasn’t brought him up.

Which means there hasn’t been one day this week that I haven’t thought about him.

Okay, fine—so I don’t have to wait for Ryan to bring him up to think about him. He’s stuck in my head all on his own.

But I don’t think I can be blamed.

Collin was hot.

Like ridiculously so.

Maybe even the hottest man I have ever seen before, and I was once twenty feet from Shemar Moore at an airport.

But I don’t know anything about him, so finding him is next to impossible.

Besides, if I do happen across him, how am I going to explain that I was looking for him?

Oh, hey. Remember me? I’m that crazy chick who almost hit you with my car and then coerced you into said car, forced you to eat pickled sausages, and gave you sex eyes for hours on end? Yeah, just wanted to see what you’re up to.

I highly doubt that’s going to go over well.

Besides, I’m sure he’s forgotten all about me by now, which is what I should do too—forget about him. The city is big. If I haven’t run into him before now, I likely never will.

“No. I think you’ve done enough internet sleuthing to last a lifetime.”

“Clearly I haven’t done enough because we haven’t found him yet.”

Ryan is determined to track him down. In her romance-loving heart, our meeting on the highway that night and both being weirdly obsessed with horror movies was fate.

I tried to tell her that her logic isn’t sound because he works in the sports industry and I hate sports, but she went and pointed out my Carolina Comets bumper sticker and how maybe that’s what magically drew us together.

“Because I don’t know anything about him and he wanted it that way.”

Collin was evasive the whole night, careful not to give me any personal details. I know he was being cautious. He wasn’t just a stranger to me; I was a stranger to him too.

But now I kind of wish I had something to go off.

“Fine. If you won’t let me stalk your hot-as-hell hitchhiker so you two can fall madly in love, at least let me finally set up a profile for you on BeeMine and you can find true love there. Or at least a good dick to ride for a while. You look like you need a good dicking.”

The guy sitting at the table behind Ryan coughs out a laugh, his coffee spilling across the table.

She spins around. “Eavesdrop much?”

I have to stifle my own laugh at her abrasiveness, never mind that she’s in a public setting and talking loudly.

That’s just who Ryan is. We met at orientation our freshman year of art school and hit it off immediately, which is funny because while we’re similar in a lot of ways, we’re just as opposite in others.

Where Ryan is a die-hard romantic, outgoing, and snarky, I’m reserved and quiet, preferring to sit at home and get my thrills in the form of a scary movie, not going out.

And then of course there’s our difference in artistic interests.

Makeup isn’t the only thing she’s good at. She knows how to work a camera better than anyone I know, and she’s aware of it too. It’s how she’s amassed over a million followers across Instagram and YouTube with her makeup tutorials and photography skills.

“Anyway,” she continues, tossing her long, honey-blonde curls behind her shoulder. “As I was saying, let me set you up a profile and match you with somebody. That way when you eventually do run into Hot Hitchhiker again, you can be like, ‘No, sorry, I’m taken because you’re an idiot and didn’t ask for my number.’” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Yes! Let’s do that!”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes.”

“Ryan…”

“Harper…” she mocks, then lifts her dark green eyes skyward. “Come on. We both know you’re not as happy being single as you’re pretending to be.”

I push off the counter I’ve been leaning on and set the phone down against a flower vase.

I reach for a mug, then pluck an espresso pod from the top drawer of my coffee station.

One thing I wanted most when I finally got my own apartment was a coffee bar filled with different ways to make my favorite crutch.

I squirt two pumps of vanilla and one of lavender into my mug, pop the pod into the machine, and let it work its magic. I grab creamer from the fridge and take a whiff, the sweet cream hitting my senses, then pour a healthy dose into the frother I have and work it into a nice fluff.

“Why don’t you just go to a coffee shop like a normal person?” Ryan says.

“Because coffee shops are expensive.”

“Yeah, but they put love into their coffees here.”

“Plenty of sass too. That barista at Cup of Joe’s is always giving out death stares.”

“And I give them right back.”

“Ryan the Lion,” I tease, using the nickname I gave her in college.

She lifts her hands and growls, then winks.

I laugh.

After my father died, my mother was protective to the point that it was suffocating me. I had to beg for over a year to get her to allow me to apply to art school just on the other side of the state. When I finally got there and experienced what it was like to not be under her thumb, I felt free for the first time in years.

So, during school, I worked my ass off to save up money, and after graduation, I stayed.

Even though it’s been three years since I graduated, my mother asks me to move back weekly. But I don’t regret it for a second.

I owe Ryan for that. She pulled me out of my shell, forced me to stand up for myself. And I love her dearly for it.

I grab my finished espresso, pour my foam concoction on top of it, and finish it off with a few shakes of cinnamon. I take a sip as I grab my phone and walk outside to my little patio area.

I might not live in the heart of downtown, but I’m perfectly okay with that. I have an excellent view of the city from my balcony without all the extra noise.

“As for your accusation regarding my happiness, it’s not true. I’m fine with being single.”

She cackles at my answer, so loud and creepy I swear it came straight from a horror movie. “I love how you think you can lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just pins me with a stare that makes me shrink back.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“No. Not until you admit you’re lying.”

“I’m—”

“Harper Dolores Kelly!”

I groan. “Don’t bring out the middle name.”

“Then admit it.”

“Fine!” I say a little too loudly. “Fine, I’m a little lonely at times, but it’s nothing that’s crushing. You happy?”

“Yes.” She smiles triumphantly, then realizes what she said. “Well, no. I’m not happy you’re lonely—just happy you finally admitted it.” She taps her fingertips together. “Now, let me fix it.”

“With a dating app?”

“Yes!”

“Come on, Ryan.” I scoff. “Those things are just for hooking up. Everyone knows that.”

“First, what’s wrong with just hooking up? You clearly need it. And second, that’s not true. Look at Charlie.”

She’s referring to her co-worker who met a guy on some app last year. They fell madly in love with each other and just got engaged last week. Ryan has forced me out a few times, and I’ve seen them together. It’s sickening how cute they are.

“She was the exception.”

I’ve never done the whole dating-app thing before. The few boyfriends I’ve had, I met at school or through mutual friends. I will admit that since I started working from home, it has been lonely at times, and if I ever did want to meet someone, my options would be pretty limited.

Hmm…perhaps online dating wouldn’t be the worst idea ever.

“I’ll come over tonight,” Ryan says like she can read my mind and knows I’m considering it. “We can order some subs, watch a movie, and work on your profile together.”

Her eyes are bright with excitement, and she’s clearly loving her plan.

I love the part about subs and a movie.

The app part? Not so much.

Truthfully, I’m in no rush to get into anything serious. But I guess finding someone to have fun with for a bit wouldn’t be so bad.

“Fine,” I concede.

She claps her hands together, squealing with delight.

“But!” I interrupt her celebration. “When I say I’m done, I’m done. No arguments. Got it?”

She holds her hands up to show me she’s not crossing her fingers and says, “I promise.”

“I don’t trust you. You’re probably crossing that weird lucky toe of yours.”

“Ohmygosh.” She glances around, making sure nobody heard me. “You bitch! I hate you. I’ll bring the wine. See you tonight. Love you. Bye.”

“Wow. You’re just really putting it all out there, aren’t you?”

“What?” I take a sip from my wineglass. It’s my third and I’m definitely feeling the effects. I’m not a big drinker, and sweet wine is about all I can handle. “I’d rather be honest about my passions upfront than spring it on him later.”

“True, true. But it’s so…” I narrow my eyes and she holds her hands up. “Fine. Tell him all about your freak-show obsession, then.”

I type and erase…then do it again.

“There,” I finally say, holding the phone up to her face. “How’s this?”

We’ve been curled up on my couch for two hours now, a bottle of wine gone between the two of us, two sub boxes empty on the coffee table, and The Haunting of Hill House playing in the background for noise.

Ryan snatches my phone from my hand and reads it over, types a few things, then smiles.

“There. That’s it.”

I look at the screen, eyes wide.

“Ryan! You cannot put that in there!”

She shrugs. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”

My cheeks heat, and she laughs at my discomfort like a brat.

I grab the phone and erase the swallowing part she tacked on to the end, then read it through again.

I’m an awkward, horror-loving artist. I love dogs more than people, and I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink coffee. I’m not looking for a Michael to my Laurie. AKA I want a fun time, not a long time. No creeps and no foot fetishes. No exceptions.

It’s…shit.

Absolute shit.

I can’t do this. I can’t sign up on some dating app. I am not cut out for this.

A long, perfectly manicured finger comes into view, and before I know it, a screen is popping up saying Congratulations! Your profile is now live.

“Now you can’t back out.” Ryan grins at me smugly.

“I can just delete the profile.”

“You could…but you won’t because you love me.”

Crap. She’s right.

I toss my head back on a sigh. “Ugh. This is so not for me, Ryan. You’re the outgoing, fun one. I’m the laid-back, awkward one. Online dating? It’s so…”

“Perfect. It’s perfect. You’re behind a screen. You’re able to just be yourself. And the best part is, if you don’t like someone, you just stop talking to them. That’s way better than trying to meet someone in real life where you have to be all polite and shit and can’t just walk away.” She lifts a shoulder. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this for you before, honestly.”

“Because if I were in my right mind, I would have never agreed to this.”

“But you’re lonely, so you did.”

There she goes using that word again.

Lonely.

Until I left Collin standing on that curb, I didn’t realize just how alone I was feeling.

Talking to him was easy and fun. I didn’t realize I missed that simple connection with another person until I walked away from it.

I miss laughing. I miss that jolt of electricity when arms brush together.

I miss being smiled at. Being teased. Heard.

Seen.

I’m not going to hold my breath that this online-dating thing pans out.

But maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it did.