This isn’t their first date? What the fuck? How long has she been seeing him?
I begin to see red.
Fletcher comes rushing back into the room. “She said yes.”
“She did?”
“We’re going to get food.”
“You are?” I’m as shocked as he is. “Great.”
His eyes widen in fear. “What will I wear?”
“Oh Jesus.” I roll my eyes, and Patrick slaps his forehead. “Just wear something nice. And have a shower. Girls like dudes who smell nice.”
Fletcher stares at me, as if I am an alien. “Since when?”
I screw up my face in disgust. “What does your mother actually teach you about girls?”
“Nothing.” He widens his eyes. “She thinks I’m too young to date.”
I tip my head back to the sky in disgust. “And anyway, how come you didn’t attack Paul from Pilates? Why is she allowed to go out with him?”
“Oh.” Fletcher shrugs. “He’s gay.”
I narrow my eyes in delight. “Oh, he is . . . is he?”
“Well, I don’t actually know that for sure.” He shrugs casually. “But he isn’t Mom’s type, so . . .”
“Why isn’t he your mother’s type?”
“Because she does Pilates with him. Nobody does Pilates with a guy they like . . . do they? And besides, he wears a pink sweatband around his head. He’s odd. Weird, even.”
“Hmm.” I think on this as I tap my chin. “That’s a very good point, Fletcher. Nobody does date a guy who wears a pink sweatband around their head at Pilates,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Precisely.” Fletcher turns to go take a shower.
“Oh . . . and, Fletch?” I call after him.
“Yeah.”
“Spank the pony in the shower.”
He sticks his head back around the corner. “What?”
I nod. “Do that . . . you know, the thing.”
Fletcher frowns. “What for?”
“Do you want the whole restaurant to know how happy you are?” I widen my eyes and look at his crotch. “You want to appear as least . . . excitable . . . as possible.”
He frowns in horror. “This is a thing?”
Patrick frowns. “Wait, what? There’s a pony in the shower?”
“It’s a song,” I mutter, distracted. “This is the thing, Fletch. Nobody goes on a date without listening to ‘Spanking the Pony’ before they go. Everybody knows that. It’s the dating rule number one.” Except me, of course, the first time with Claire . . . damn it. I got sloppy and didn’t even remember the basic rules.
“Are you serious right now?” He frowns.