The Cheat Sheet

I shake my head. So defeated. “But he’s right, I’m shit on defense. What

if I’m no good metaphorically either?”

“It’s not the same!” He’s clutching that dry erase marker like he’s squeezing a lemon.

“Who are the other two linemen in the play?”

“That’s me and Derek. Obviously, you’re going to need our help on this one since we’re the most sexually experienced of the group. No offense to Price and Lawrence.”

“Offense taken,” Lawrence says, standing up to his full six-foot-eight height. He walks over to Jamal and snatches the marker from his hand. “You’re a sucker. They’re messing with you.” We Three Stooges boo Lawrence. “Alright, time to get serious. First of all, Nate doesn’t need sexual experience in this situation. He needs romantic experience. And he definitely needs more than one very obscure play to show Bree there could be something between them besides just friendship. He needs a whole…” His words trail off as he finishes his sentence by writing ROMANCE CHEAT SHEET on the board.

“Ooo that’s good,” I say before tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it in my mouth. I wear a cheat sheet full of plays on my wrist during every game; why shouldn’t I do something similar in this situation so I can refer to it when I need a little inspiration? I like it. “Lawrence is officially in charge.”

Lawrence is smug. Jamal crosses his arms and stalks over to the chair beside me to slump down into it. I offer him some popcorn, and he just gives me the stink eye.

“Don’t pout,” I say while crunching.

“I’m not pouting.”

“You’re pouting,” we all say in unison.

Jamal rolls his eyes. “Just get on with it and tell us about your amazing romance cheat sheet.” He says it like a dating cheat sheet is cheesier than what we’ve already been doing.

“I plan on it, thank you.” Lawrence lifts his eyebrows in Jamal’s direction before turning to the whiteboard and savagely erasing all of Jamal’s play. “This is romance, men. Not football. We can’t use play fakes and little Xs and Os to portray an entire relationship. And no vague metaphors. What we need are words.”

The guys all hiss. He just told them they have to dress up in suits and attend a cotillion.

Lawrence cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck from side to side. “Bree has always said she sees you like a brother (even though I don’t believe it for one second), but over the next few weeks, you’re going to show her a different side of you, all under the safety of this fake dating endorsement deal.”

Okay, well I’m sold. I like the sound of that. I get a few weeks to finally show Bree the attraction I’ve always felt for her and see if she returns it. It’s a lot of pressure to squeeze six years’ worth of friend-zone-undoing into a short amount of time, but what’s a little more stress added to my life? I can handle it.

“Sounds good. So what do I do, guru?”

Lawrence starts pacing and tapping the capped marker on his chin. “We’ve got to approach this carefully. Since you guys have barely touched over the last six years, you’ll need to start slow. Small, gentle moves, building in intensity as the situation warrants, and only if she seems to be reciprocating.” I think he missed his calling as Hitch, because he’s exactly right. Bree is not one for sudden change. She’s been wearing the same stack of bracelets for a year now and only added a new one to the mix after debating the merits of it with me for a week.

“If I’ve learned anything from Hallmark movies, it’s that no woman likes a persistent man when she tells him no. So if Bree truly does only see you as a brother by the time this is all over, you’re going to have to let her go and move on. Luckily, since you’ll only be making moves in the name of the contract, you’ll be able to go back to normal in the end without burning any bridges if she doesn’t seem into you.”

Yeah, normal. Unfortunately, there’s a nagging feeling inside me that says I won’t be able to go back to normal. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand by after all of this and watch her date other guys again, or be near her and never touch. It’s torture. I don’t want to have to think about what I’ll do if she doesn’t want a relationship with me just yet.

“What’s your first public date with Bree going to be?” Jamal asks, sitting forward now that he doesn’t think Lawrence’s idea is complete trash.

I get out my phone and look at the calendar Nicole keeps updated for me. “Wednesday we have to film the commercial. Oh, and by the way, it is a complete breach of contract for me to tell you guys we’re going to be in a fake relationship, but I really needed help.” They all agree to keep their mouths shut about it. “So yeah, not really a date, but we do have to pretend to be a couple in front of the crew that day.”

“That’s perfect,” says Derek from where he’s now raiding my fridge for the third time. “That’ll be a good place to start exploring some light physical touch. See if any sparks start flying.”

My stomach tightens at the words physical touch, and I immediately feel like a twelve-year-old scared to go on his first date. Even worse, I’m getting advice from possibly the most unqualified instructors. “What counts as light?”

Derek peeks over the fridge door and levels me with a gross smirk. “Depends on the woman.”

I grimace. “Okay, never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

Lawrence shakes his head at Derek. “I bet your mama’s so proud of how you turned out.”

“Holding hands!” Jamal shouts like he’s on The Price is Right and is tossing out his final bid.

“Hand-holding is good.” Lawrence jots it down next to number one.

“Wink at her,” Derek says while casually leaning back against the counter and peeling a banana.