This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © by Kahoko Yamada

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Author, except where permitted by law.

Natalie Young hopped out of her black Honda Civic. She checked the time on her smartphone: it was only six. She still had another two hours before her boyfriend, Ben, made it home from his new job. He used to be an assistant manager at Harold’s, a supermarket chain that populated the northeast, but had been laid off a couple of years ago. He’d gone back to school for accounting and recently found a job as a manager of a bank.

She popped her trunk and pulled out several bags of groceries from Deluca’s. Her blond ponytail bounced behind her as she made her way up to her apartment. She couldn’t wait to surprise Ben with his favorite meal: medium-rare steak with mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans (a meal his mom had often made when he was growing up), and Heineken Beer.

Natalie and Ben had been together for three years this coming New Year’s, and while they’d certainly had their ups and downs, such as Ben’s employment troubles and Natalie’s problems in the bedroom, they were still going strong and still very much in love.

Natalie set the groceries down to open her front door. She headed into the kitchen to start preparing dinner, but stopped once she heard sounds coming from the bedroom. Fearing an intruder had broken in, she dropped her grocery bags on the floor and dialed 911 on her cell.

“Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?” asked the operator.

“There’s someone in my apartment,” whispered Natalie.

“Someone has broken in?”

“Yes. I live at 150 Huntington Avenue, apartment three F. Come quick.”

“I’ll send someone right away. Get out of the apartment immediately.”

“Okay.” Natalie disconnected the call then ran toward the front door. In her hurry to escape, she tripped over the grocery bags, making an audible thud when she hit the floor. The sounds emanating from the bedroom stopped, and fast-approaching footsteps replaced them. Natalie’s heart felt as though it would burst out of her chest, it was beating so hard. She scrambled to her feet and practically leaped for the front door. She clumsily unlocked it and was about to escape when . . .

“Nat?”

Natalie stopped. She knew that voice. It had called her name many times before over the last three years. Natalie turned around quickly, her adrenaline still running high. Ben stood in front of her, naked. He was soon joined by someone else: A girl. A pretty, petite blond girl. Also naked. It took Natalie awhile to fully process everything because she was still in fight-or-flight mode, but once she got her bearings, she flew into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher’s knife.

“Now, Nat, wait. Let me explain,” pleaded Ben.

“Explain this, asshole!” She lunged at Ben with the butcher’s knife, but he leaped out of the way. The girl he was with rolled her eyes and went back into the bedroom.

“Nat, calm down!”

Natalie took another swing at Ben. This time he was able to catch her arm and disarm her.

“Nat, listen.”

“No, you listen, to us. Put down the knife. Slowly.”

Natalie and Ben turned to see two male police officers standing in the doorway pointing guns at Ben. Ben slowly dropped the knife to the floor.

“Put your hands in the air,” one of the officers commanded. Ben did as he was told. The other officer went to handcuff him while the one speaking kept his gun trained on Ben. “Are there any other intruders, ma’am?”

“I can’t believe you called the cops!” yelled Ben.

“You know the intruder?” asked the gun-wielding officer.

“I—it’s not an intruder,” sighed Natalie. “He’s my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. And he’s moving out of my apartment. Tonight.”

The girl Ben was with came back out, fully dressed. “Whoa, cops!” She jumped back and put her hands up.

“Would you guys escort my ex-boyfriend and his slut out of my apartment?” Natalie asked the officers.

“Wait, Nat, you want me to leave right now? Where am I gonna go?”

“Maybe you can go stay with your slut.”

“Who are you calling a slut, bitch?” snapped the girl.

“I’m not going anywhere!” shouted Ben.

“Yes, the fuck you are!” retorted Natalie.

“Okay, wait! Everybody, calm down,” said the gun-wielding officer. “Ma’am, is your name on the lease of this apartment?” he asked Natalie.

“Yes.”

“Is his?”

“No.”

“But I’ve lived here for two years,” Ben interjected.

“But your name isn’t on the lease, so you have to leave,” the officer told Ben. “Her place, her rules.” The other officer removed the handcuffs he’d placed on Ben.

“Nat . . .” Ben looked at Natalie pleadingly, but she shook her head, resolved. “I’ll go get my stuff.” He brushed past Natalie, glaring at her as he passed.

“It’d be nice if you could put some clothes on too,” said the handcuffing officer.

After the police escorted Ben and the girl out, Natalie finally allowed herself to break down. She threw the food she’d bought against the walls and then groaned when she realized she would have to clean it up. The tears began flowing from her face, causing her make up to run, as she cleaned up the mess. How could she not have known he was cheating on her, especially with her past? How could she have been so stupid? And how could Ben do this to her after all she’d done for him? When he’d gotten laid off from his job at Harold’s, she’d let him move in with her, and she’d been paying all of the bills since his savings ran out, and this was how he repaid her, bringing some fat, bottled-blond slut into her home?

Natalie finished cleaning up the mess, then went into the freezer and pulled out a carton of mint chocolate-chip ice cream (her favorite) to soothe her pain. She would’ve pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay, too, but she had to be at work, first thing, tomorrow morning for a presentation, and she didn’t want to be hung over. Halfway through the ice-cream carton, Natalie decided to stop eating before Ben gave her thunder thighs and a spare tire in addition to swollen eyes and a broken heart.

She put the ice cream back in the freezer and walked into the bathroom. She stared at her makeup-stained reflection in the bathroom mirror: it looked like an oil rig had exploded in each of her eyes and leaked down her face. She used makeup-remover wipes to clean the foundation, primer, concealer, veil, eye shadow, eyeliner, and lipstick off her face, an arduous process to say the least. And tomorrow morning, she would have to reapply all of it for work, another arduous process. Sometimes, she thought about leaving the house without all of that stuff on. It wasn’t as though she was a troll or anything. Sure, she had a few blemishes here and there, but overall, she was quite pretty. But the makeup made her even prettier, and as strange as it sounded, it made her feel like more of a woman. She washed her face, using her facial cleanser then took a long, hot shower.

She went into her bedroom to turn in for the night, wearing a pink cami top with matching boy shorts, but seeing the messy bed stopped her dead in her tracks: This was the scene of the crime. This was where Ben had cheated on her with his low-rent slut. And it probably hadn’t been the first time, either. He’d probably cheated on her hundreds of times, with hundreds of different women, in a hundred different ways, while she’d been working like a slave to support his sorry ass. Her imagination continued to run away with her until she heard her cell ringing. She rushed to the kitchen, where she’d left it, to answer it.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, girl. What you doin’?” It was Natalie’s best friend, Jenna. They’d met five years ago when Natalie first got hired in at the shoe leg of Eurydice, a fashion house. Natalie hadn’t liked Jenna at first, finding her to be loud and brash, but over time, those traits began to remind Natalie of Theresa, her best friend from college, who had helped to pull Natalie out of her shell, somewhat. Natalie, realizing she missed having someone like that in her life, began to open up more to Jenna, and the two quickly became best friends.

“Girl, you will not believe what happened tonight.”

“What?”

“I came home tonight to celebrate Ben finally getting a job by fixing his favorite meal and guess what happened.”

“What?” Jenna asked again, this time with more fervor in her voice. She was probably salivating; gossiping was one of Jenna’s favorite pastimes.

“I found Ben in bed with some worthless whore.”

“No!” gasped Jenna.

“Yes, girl.”

“He was with a hooker?”

“Hooker? No—I mean, she might’ve been, I don’t know. I’m just calling her that. Oh my god, what if she was one? What if she had something, and Ben gave it to me? Now my head is filled with thoughts of hookers and STDs. Thanks a lot, Jenna.”

“Sorry, girl. What did he say when you caught his cheating ass?”

“I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. I just went straight for the butcher’s knife and tried to castrate his ass.”

Jenna laughed. “That’s my girl. Did you get him?”

“No, the police showed up.”

“The police? He and that skank called the cops on you in your own house?”

“No, I called the police. When I heard noises coming from the bedroom, I thought someone had broken in.” Both women laughed over the absurdity of the situation. “And you know what’s really bad about all of this shit?”

“What?”

“I wanna go to bed, but I can’t because my entire room reeks of her and her stank pussy.” Natalie’s comments made Jenna laugh again, which made Natalie laugh. “I’m serious, girl. My entire room smells like rotten fish.”

“So come stay with me tonight, or for as long as you need,” offered Jenna. “And we can sell your bed and feng shui and delouse your entire apartment.”

“Thanks, Jenna.”

“No thanks needed. I know you’d return the favor. Hurry on over because you know we have to be at work an hour early for that meeting tomorrow.”

“’Kay, I’m gonna pack a bag and be over in a few.”

“’Kay.”

Natalie hung up and packed a bag with three different outfits, because she couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear tomorrow; her lucky black Marc Jacobs pumps for her presentation; her makeup bag; her comb; and her blow dryer. She changed out of her pink nightclothes and into a black cami top with matching yoga pants.

Natalie arrived at Jenna’s apartment twenty minutes later. Jenna had the couch all fixed up for her, so all she had to do was lie down and get comfortable.

Three hours later, Natalie was still awake. It wasn’t the couch, though it was a poor substitute for a bed; it was Ben and the meeting at her job tomorrow. It was times like this Natalie wished she were more like Jenna. If she were like Jenna, she’d be too confident and self-possessed to be worried about tomorrow’s presentation, and her boyfriend wouldn’t be cheating on her because she didn’t do boyfriends, because she didn’t do long-term relationships. But she wasn’t Jenna. She was anal, obsessive, cautious Natalie.

Despite her insomnia and inner turmoil, Natalie was up and ready to go when morning arrived. She was listening to the voicemail messages Ben had left on her smartphone when Jenna came rushing out.

“What time is it?” Jenna shrieked.

“It’s only seven thirty, so we still have about half an hour,” Natalie told her. “But we don’t have time to stop by Starbucks, so I made a pot of coffee.”

“Oh, thank God!” Jenna rushed over to the coffee pot. “I mean, it’s not a light caramel frappuccino, but it’ll have to do. At least until lunch. Why didn’t you wake me?” Jenna poured herself a cup of coffee and took a few sips.

“Sorry. I was distracted. Ben called. He left me several messages and texts.”

“Tell me on the way to work. We’ve gotta hustle.” Jenna slid on her coat and boots while Natalie put her coat on; she was already wearing her boots, and she would change into her lucky Marc Jacobs pumps once she got to work. They sped out the door and climbed into Jenna’s orange GMC Yukon. Jenna shifted the car into drive, and they took off.

“So what did your asshole ex say in all of those messages?” Jenna asked.

“He said he loved me, he missed me, it was just sex, blah, blah, blah.” Ben had actually said a lot more than that, but Natalie didn’t want Jenna to know about the condition she had, so she just gave her a truncated version.

“So basically, the usual shit guys say when they get caught cheating. But that’s okay, because it’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m gonna find some way to cheer my girl up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You really don’t have to.” Natalie appreciated Jenna’s offer, but her idea of cheering people up usually involved partying, which Natalie had never been that fond of, and sex, which was a sore subject, to say the least, for Natalie. “How nervous are you about our presentation?”

“What’s there to be nervous about? We totally killed it. Lauren’s gonna love it.” They were junior designers at Eurydice, and Lauren, the design lead, was their immediate supervisor. All design pitches had to go through her.

“You went over the notes I gave you, right?” Natalie checked.

“Yes, I went over them. How many times are you gonna ask me that?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be so fussy. I just like to be—”

“Prepared, I know. A lot of times that can be a good thing, but you, you do it too much. Don’t be so anal and uptight about everything. Life’s too short.”

Jenna wasn’t the deepest or most-pensive person, but she could say some really profound things sometimes . . .

“And plus, worrying gives you wrinkles. I read it in Cosmo,” added Jenna.

And then she’d say something else.

The girls arrived in the conference room at seven fifty-five, but they still had plenty of time to set up, because Lauren was usually ten to fifteen minutes late. Natalie pulled out her laptop and set up the PowerPoint presentation while Jenna just sat in a chair, watching.

“You are working too hard, girl.”

“Some of us like to work hard as opposed to hardly working,” said Natalie pointedly, but jokingly. “Makes us feel useful and needed.”

“And some of us like to hardly work. It makes us feel relaxed and happy,” retorted Jenna. “Besides, you know I’ll pull my weight when it comes time to do the actual presentation. You know you’re a choker.”

“I’m not a choker.”

“You’re a choker. Remember the first presentation we ever gave?”

“It was our first time. First time’s always a little shaky.”

“And the next five times after that?”

“Shut up,” said Natalie, defeated.

Jenna laughed, victorious.

“You guys ready?”

Natalie jumped a little when Lauren spoke. She was a very mannish-looking woman, with a strong jaw line, large nose, and thin lips. Sartorially, she was also very mannish, typically wearing men’s suits with loafers to work.

“We were born ready,” declared Jenna.

“Good. Let’s hear it, then.” Lauren took a seat at the conference table. Jenna and Natalie moved to the front of the room to begin their presentation.

“We’ve had a hard time with our women’s shoe sales over the last couple of years, and through canvassing, we’ve determined it’s due to our shoes not being neither stylish nor functional enough.” As Jenna continued on with the presentation, Natalie, agitated, kept her eyes on Lauren to see how keen she was on her idea, but her face was inscrutable.

“So we thought that the best way to get women back into Eurydice is to mix high-end style with function. We present the sneako.” Jenna gestured toward the screen: a pair of black-and-white stilettos that looked like sneakers were on the projector.

“It combines the style of designer heels with the comfort and cushioning that running shoes provide. The heel is even designed to help running. It works as a shock absorber for running and plyometric exercises, as well as helping with stride.” Natalie and Jenna waited with bated breath as Lauren looked at the shoes.

“I like it,” Lauren finally said.

“Really?” asked Natalie. Whenever people gave her compliments or said they liked her, she always had to ask whether they really meant it. Her self-esteem had taken a major hit in high school because of her condition and had yet to truly recover.

“Yeah. I don’t know about the name, but the shoes themselves are great. E-mail me a copy of the final sketch with dimensions, and we can get production on it. Keep up the good work.” Lauren left, checking her smartphone on the way out. Natalie and Jenna, excited, jumped up and down once she was out of the room.

“We did it!” yelled Natalie.

“I knew we would. In fact, I told you we would. You worry too much, girl.”

“Yeah, you told me that too.” The girls gathered up their gear. “Think this will get us a raise and a promotion?”

“We’ll have to see how they sell before we can talk raises and promotions, but I hope so.”

***

It was now lunch time, and Natalie hadn’t got any work done since the presentation that morning. She was still basking in the joy of her success at work, as well as wallowing in the pitiful condition her love life had recently taken. She’d been constantly checking her smartphone, but hadn’t received any new calls, voicemails, or texts from Ben. She had no intention of getting back together with him, but still wanted him to keep trying to get her back. There was a knock on the door. Jenna walked in.

“Good news,” she announced.

“Well, I know it can’t be about our sneako because I haven’t finished the final sketch yet. So what’s the good news?”

“My friend Amy is throwing an awesome New Year’s Eve party tonight and–”

“No, no, no, no. You know I hate parties.”

“But you need to go. You need to get back in the saddle before you do what you always do when you break up with a guy: obsess over everything that went wrong with your relationship and fantasize about how you could’ve fixed it until you’re an unfocused hot mess. Amy said there will be a lot of hot guys there, who all just wanna have a little fun. What’s wrong with a little fun, especially after a huge work success?”

“Look, I’m not like you, okay? I just can’t . . .” Natalie struggled to find a nice way to say Jenna had been around the block plenty of times. “Casual sex isn’t enough for me like it is for you. I need the relationship and all the good stuff that goes along with it, you know, the hand holding, the cuddling, the tender kissing, the–”

“Enough already! You sound like some lame chick flick. Yuck!”

Natalie smiled.

“Well, will you at least come to keep me company?”

“Oh, please. You aren’t gonna need me to keep you company. You’re gonna have all kinds of . . . friends there in all sorts of different ways.”

Jenna shot her a playful dirty look.

“You just wanna get me there, so you can set me up with some guy.”

“You know me well. But come with me anyway. You might meet a guy who you’ll spark up a friendship with, then who knows? Maybe he’ll be your next boyfriend.”

“If I go, will you get off my back?”

“Yes, but I reserve the right to nag you again if I find out tomorrow you didn’t get even so much as a kiss tonight.”

Natalie laughed. “Okay, I’ll go.” She grabbed her coat and purse. “Can we go to lunch now?”

“Yeah, but let’s go some place healthy. I’ve got this tight little black dress from Macy’s that I plan on wearing to the party tonight. It looks great, but doesn’t have any give, if you know what I mean.” They laughed as they walked out of Natalie’s office.

***

After they returned from lunch, they still weren’t able to get any work done, so Natalie and Jenna left an hour early to go to the Saks Fifth Avenue at The Prudential Center. They were in search of a dress for Natalie to wear to the New Year’s Eve party. Jenna waited outside of the dressing room, texting, while Natalie tried on dresses.

“So what do you think of this one?” Natalie stepped out of the dressing room in a baggy green sweater dress that camouflaged her lithe figure.

Jenna stared at her in disgust. “What the hell are you wearing, a muumuu?”

Natalie looked down at the dress. “The dress doesn’t look that bad.”

“Yeah, for Roseanne Barr maybe, but you’re a hottie. Dress like it. And you need to start acting like it, too. You’re an amazing, bad-ass bitch and don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”

Natalie gave a weak smile: she appreciated the compliment, but knew it wasn’t true. “I’ll try on one of the others I brought in with me.” Natalie headed back into the dressing room, and Jenna resumed her texting.

“So who are you texting?” Natalie asked.

“This guy I’ve been fooling around with.”

“Guy or guys?” joked Natalie.

“You bitch,” chuckled Jenna. “Actually, though, it sorta is guys. I’m trying to see if my friend can bring one of his cute friends to Amy’s party for you.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You really don’t have to. I’m perfectly fine with going stag.”

“Is it going stag if we’re going together?” wondered Jenna.

“Good question. I don’t know.” Natalie came out of the dressing room wearing a gray sweater dress that was more form fitting than the dress she’d worn before. “What do you think of this one?”

“Much better,” Jenna noted as she looked her over. “Especially in the hips and breasts areas. Now it looks like you actually have them.”

“Shut up!” Natalie playfully hit Jenna. “So you think this is the one?”

“Uh, no. I said it was much better than that other thing you were wearing. Here, let me come in here with you, and I can help you pick out the right dress.” Jenna stepped into the dressing room and looked at the other dresses Natalie had brought in with her. “Blah, blah, and even more blah,” she said, pointing at each dress as she described it.

“What’s wrong with these dresses?”

“Sweetie, we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, not your grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. Don’t you wanna wear something with a little more razzle-dazzle?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really all that flashy. It–”

“Why don’t you stay here and let me pick something out, okay?” Jenna took off before Natalie could answer. Natalie hoped Jenna kept in mind she was shopping for Natalie and not herself.

Jenna came back a few moments later with several different dresses, and it was just as Natalie had feared: Jenna only brought back skin-tight, revealing dresses that Natalie would never in a million years wear.

“No,” Natalie said, looking at the dresses Jenna had in her hands.

“No? You haven’t even looked at any of them.”

“I can see them just fine from here. I mean, look at that pink one.” Natalie was talking about the pink sequined halter dress. “First of all, you know I hate the color pink, and second, it’s way too skimpy.”

“Okay, but what about this one? This one’s not pink.” Jenna held up a black feather-trimmed beaded dress. Natalie liked the dress, but she was uncomfortable with how skimpy it was. She wasn’t going to have sex tonight, and she didn’t want any guy to think she was going to, either. She didn’t believe in hooking up at parties. Well, not anymore, anyway.

“I see that look in your eyes. You wanna try it on,” Jenna said, smiling. She handed her the dress and exited the dressing room, so Natalie could change. Natalie came out a few minutes later, feeling tense and troubled. She hadn’t worn anything this revealing since discovering her condition.

“You look amazing,” Jenna said. “If I were a guy, I’d have a tent in my pants right about now. You just need to work on your confidence. Let’s go back in here.” Jenna guided Natalie back inside the fitting room, toward the mirror. “See? See how amazing you look?” Natalie stared at her reflection in the mirror: the dress did look good on her, but she still felt uneasy wearing it.

“Maybe I should take another look at the sweater dresses.”

Jenna let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine, go ahead.”

Natalie decided to go with a silver sequined sweater dress, with silver platform pumps and a metallic python spiked clutch. A nice compromise between her conservative look and Jenna’s more ostentatious look, she thought. While they were at Saks, Jenna picked up a pair of black satin lace-up ankle boots to go along with her dress for the party.

***

As Natalie waited for Jenna to finish getting ready for the party, she checked her smartphone again for messages and calls from Ben, but much to her chagrin, he still hadn’t left any more.

“Will I be the hottest bitch at this party, or will I be the hottest bitch at this party?” Natalie turned to see Jenna: she was wearing a black sleeveless one-shoulder sequined dress. Her long black hair had been blown out, her make up had been done to highlight her sky-blue eyes and high cheekbones, and the boots she had gotten from Macys made her legs look long and lean.

“You will definitely be the hottest bitch at this party. Ready to roll?”

“Ready.”

“We’re taking my car.”

“Why, mine’s better.”

“Yeah, but you’ll ditch me at the party as soon as you find a hot guy to hook up with.”

“When have I ever–okay, you’re right. I can’t even say I haven’t with a straight face. Let’s roll.” Natalie locked arms with Jenna, and they walked out the door.

***

Amy lived in a moderate-sized house with her fiancé, Rob, in West Fenway. When Natalie met them, she thought it made perfect sense that they were friends with Jenna: Amy was a party planner, who not only had a really wild streak but she literally streaked when she got drunk, and Rob was an adventure photographer, who was heavy into weed. He offered Natalie and Jenna some when they first got there, with Natalie, of course, refusing and Jenna, of course, accepting.

“See, isn’t this fun? Aren’t you glad I made you come?” Jenna asked.

Natalie nodded and feigned a smile. She knew Jenna was only trying to be there for her, but she would much rather be at home catching up on her favorite shows with a box of macarons and a glass of Chardonnay.

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” announced Jenna. “What do you want, Chardonnay?”

Natalie nodded. “That’s my drink.”

As Jenna made her way to the kitchen, Natalie took in her surroundings: it was crowded, which Natalie liked, as it made it easier for her to blend into the background and go unnoticed, although seeing people connect made her feel wistful. Tonight, she was supposed to be celebrating her and Ben’s three-year anniversary. She wondered what Ben was doing right now, whether he was thinking of her, and whether he was feeling the same way she was feeling. Yes, he’d cheated on her, but it wasn’t as though she wasn’t partly to blame for that because of her condition. He’d been a good boyfriend in every other way, and despite what she’d tried to convince herself, she did miss him. She decided to call him. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and dialed his number. He still hadn’t answered when someone yanked her phone out of her hand.

It was Jenna. She was flanked by two cute guys. “No, Nat.”

“I was just—”

“I know what you were just, so how about just don’t instead? Here.” She replaced Natalie’s phone with a glass of Chardonnay.

“What about my phone?”

“I’m keeping it, so you don’t do anything stupid.” She pushed Natalie toward one of the guys. “Nat, I want you to meet Tom. Tom, this is my best friend, Natalie.” Tom was tall and broad shouldered with dark good looks. He wore a gray sweater that perfectly displayed his chiseled torso and a pair of jeans that perfectly displayed his cute butt. He was sans cologne, which Natalie appreciated, as the smell burned her nose. He was perfect physically, which meant he was probably dumber than a box full of rocks. Leave it to Jenna to fix her up with a meathead.

“Jenna, can I have a word with you in private?” Natalie asked in an almost-threatening tone.

“About what?”

“Are we in private?” She grabbed Jenna by the arm and dragged her toward the kitchen.

Jenna yelled out to the guys, “We’ll be right back! Nat just wants to tell me how cute she thinks you are, Tom!” as she was being led away. Once they were in the kitchen, Jenna turned to Natalie: “So what’s the hubbub, bub? Why were you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

“Why are you trying to fix me up with Mr. Dumbbell?”

“Mr. Dumbbell? Don’t be ridiculous. He went to Harvard, and he runs his own advertising business. Plus, he’s pretty cute, too, right? Right?” Jenna said, nudging Natalie.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cute,” Natalie conceded grudgingly, with a smile.

“So live a little, have some fun, take advantage of him, use him in every nasty little way you can think of, then get rid of him. It’s exactly what you need after a long-term relationship.”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, no one’s saying you have to marry him. Just talk to him and see how things go. Come on. Let’s get back out there before any of these other bitches start sniffing around our guys.” Jenna dragged Natalie back into the living room, where Tom and Jenna’s date were.

“So I must be really cute, huh?” said Tom.

“I’m sorry?” Natalie said, not quite following.

“You and Jenna left to talk about how cute I was, remember? You guys were gone for a while . . . it was a joke.”

“Oh. Funny,” Natalie lied. She took a sip of her Chardonnay.

“So are you from around here?” Tom asked her.

“No, I’m actually from Rhode Island.”

“So why did you come here? To go to college?”

“Yes, I moved here to go to college and never left.” She took another sip of her Chardonnay.

“Are you all done now or . . .?”

“I beg your pardon?” How dare he? She’d only had a few sips of wine.

“I meant, are you all done with college now, or are you still going?”

Natalie blushed, a little embarrassed. “Oh. Yeah. All done for a while now. You?”

“No, I never went to college.”

“Really? Jenna said you went to Harvard.” Natalie began to wonder what Jenna had gotten her into.

 “Oh no, I just say that to hook the ladies. I actually just got of prison.” Natalie turned to go find Jenna and chew her out for setting her up with a felon.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Tom said, taking her by the hand, so she wouldn’t leave. Natalie normally didn’t care for men being this physically forward with her right out the gate, but she liked the sensation of his big, manly hand on hers. “You just seemed a little uncomfortable. I was just trying to break the ice by being funny, but apparently, I’m not very good at it. Let’s start over. My name is Tom, and I actually did go to Harvard, graduated Summa Cum Laude.” She was pleasantly surprised when he kissed her hand.

“Well, I’m Natalie, and I went to Boston College. So what brings you here, Tom? I mean, you’re not exactly Quasimodo. Why do you need to be set up on a blind date?”

“Well, I’m a workaholic. I work so much I barely do anything else and now . . . well, now, I don’t really have anybody, and I’d really like to.” He let out a little nervous laugh. “So here I am, at a party, on a blind date, trying to get to know the prettiest woman here. Pretty embarrassing, huh?”

“Not at all.” Natalie put a reassuring hand on his forearm. “What do you do for a living? Jenna tells me you run your own advertising agency.”

“Yeah. Hillman advertising.”

“My company uses you guys. Eurydice, that’s the company.”

“Yeah, Jenna said you guys worked at Eurydice. What do you do there?”

“We’re designers. I actually just designed a new shoe for women. It’s called the sneako. I know it sounds kinda lame, but it’s actually really cool. It combines a typical running shoe with a stiletto.”

Natalie and Tom talked for hours and hours about themselves: Tom was an only child and originally from Boston (grew up in Beacon Hill). His dad was a litigator, and his mom owned an Italian restaurant called Parrino’s (her maiden name). He’d gone to East Boston Central Catholic School until he was in the eighth grade then to the Newman School for high school. His mom had originally wanted him to go to a catholic high school, but told him he could go to Newman if he went to church twice a week to make up for it. Every summer his family on his father’s side would gather at the family compound on Nantucket for one weekend for a family reunion, and every Christmas, they would go to Telluride to ski. He played a pick-up game (whatever that was) on the weekends with his friends and regularly volunteered at The Boston Children’s Hospital after a former girlfriend got him involved with it. Wanting to do something major before he turned thirty (he was now thirty-two), he’d opened his own advertising agency at the age of twenty-nine and devoted most of his time to making sure it was a continued success. Natalie was an only child as well, originally from Central Falls, Rhode Island. She was an avid reader and a level-four Ashtanga Yoga practitioner, and she regularly attended wine-tasting events.

Natalie and Tom also drank for hours and hours, and before she knew it, it was ten seconds before the New Year. Everyone was counting down, and when the clock struck midnight, she and Tom kissed. And it wasn’t out of desperation for someone to kiss on New Year’s, either; it was a genuine and passionate kiss between two people legitimately attracted to each other. Natalie broke the kiss when she felt Tom’s erection pressing against her abdomen.

“Looks like the party is starting to wind down, but I’m up for more at my place.” Tom was looking at her with lust in his eyes and single-malt scotch on his breath. She was afraid something like this would happen.

“I would like to. I really would. But I can’t. I . . . I have to be at work, first thing in the morning,” Natalie said, avoiding his gaze.

“On New Year’s?”

Natalie grimaced; even drunk, she should’ve been able to come up with a better blow off than that. “I can’t go home with you. I’m sorry.”

“Well, can I at least get your number?”

Damn. Why did he have to be interested in more than just sex? It only made it that much harder for Natalie to refuse to give it to him. It’s not that Natalie didn’t like Tom; she liked him a lot and wanted to give him her number more than anything in the world, but she knew what she had to do.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not really interested in you.”

“What? But you just kissed me.”

“I’m sorry,” Natalie said, and then scurried away to find Jenna.

“Natalie! Natalie, wait!” Tom yelled as she moved away from him. He took her by the hand again to stop her. She allowed him to for a moment, not knowing how long of a wait she’d have before another man tenderly touched her, then shrugged him off.

Natalie looked for Jenna in the living room and the kitchen, but couldn’t find her. A fellow partygoer informed her that Jenna had gone home with her guy friend, just as Natalie had suspected she would. She just wished that Jenna had remembered to give her phone back before she’d left, but she’d probably been too drunk, too high, and too horny to remember. Well, at least someone was getting it in.

On the drive home, Natalie thought about Tom and how much fun she’d had with him. Part of her wanted to go back to the party and see whether he was still there, but deep down she knew she’d made the right decision. Her relationship with guys usually didn’t work out because of her condition: they’d use her for a blow job, then get rid of her, or if they stayed, it wouldn’t be long before the relationship petered out, or they cheated, because blowjobs weren’t enough for them. Or they died.

***

It was the spring of her junior year in high school. Natalie had been dating Jeremy, a popular football player, for a year, and things were going so perfectly that they even planned to go to Boston College together. Jeremy had come over that day to study for the SATs, but one thing led to another, as they usually did, and they ended up fooling around in her bedroom. Natalie was on top, grinding her pelvis into Jeremy’s, as they kissed.

“How are we ever gonna ace our SATs if every time we study, it leads to this?” Natalie said in between kisses.

“We don’t need to study. I’m a fucking genius. And you, you’re kinda smart too,” joked Jeremy. Natalie playfully hit his chest. He followed that up with a smack to her ass, making her squeal with delight, then flipped her, so that he was now on top. They began dry humping. This was the point where they always got to and then stopped because of Natalie. She wanted to have sex with Jeremy, to have him be her first, but she was afraid; she’d been told the first time always hurt and that there was blood, but it was getting harder and harder to say no every time she and Jeremy hooked up.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

“Do what?” Jeremy asked.

“You know what. Don’t play dumb, Mr. Genius. Let’s do it. Go all the way.”

Jeremy stopped humping and kissing. He looked Natalie in the eyes with such sincerity and tenderness that it made her look away. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to wait. I’m cool with waiting. There’s no pressure.”

“I know you are, and I appreciate that you’re willing to wait for me, but I’m ready now. I want to.” She paused, then asked, “Do you . . . want to?” She kept her face turned away from him in case he rejected her.

“Yeah, I want to. Of course I want to. I’m a guy. I always want to. I mean, I don’t just want to because I’m a guy, and I like sex.”

Natalie turned back to face him, smiling. She thought it was sweet how he was falling all over himself to show that she was more than just a hookup to him, even though it was already more than obvious. “I get it, what you’re trying to say, I get it.”

Jeremy, looking relieved, smiled at her. “So how do you want to do this? Do you want to use condoms?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m on the pill, and it’s not like either one of us has anything.” She took his hand in hers. “Just go slow at first, okay?” Her voice quivered with fear and anticipation.

“Okay,” he reassured her. “And you’re sure?”

Natalie playfully rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. You know, you keep this up, and I’m gonna start to wonder about you,” she teased.

“Well, let me put all those fears to rest.” He leaned forward and kissed her, at first on the lips, then on her neck. Natalie moved her hands down to his waist and unbuckled his belt. She unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. She caressed his penis, making it go from soft to hard. She was pleasantly surprised at how smooth it felt; she’d been expecting it to feel rough and coarse. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She pushed Jeremy back a little so that she could take off her shirt and bra. He ogled her breasts before reaching in to touch; his touch was warm and delicate. He played with her nipples, then kissed and sucked on them. All of this stimulation drove Natalie crazy. She pulled off her pants and panties while Jeremy kept stimulating her.

Natalie took Jeremy’s face in her hands and kissed him. She then reached down, and stroked his penis. She looked him in the eyes and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, smiling. She guided his penis inside of her as he thrust. Natalie waited for the obligatory pain, but Jeremy was the one who ended up hurt: the smile that had previously occupied his face morphed into a grimace as he let out a bone-chilling scream. He rolled off of her and onto the floor, writhing in agony.

Natalie was distraught; she had no idea what had happened or what was wrong until her eyes fell on Jeremy’s crotch and saw that his penis had been bitten off. To add to her horror, she realized that his penis was still inside her. Natalie slowly pulled it out and dropped it. The sight of Jeremy’s severed, flaccid, bloody penis lying on the floor made Natalie vomit. She called 911 and told them what had happened, much to her embarrassment. The police held her for questioning, but eventually came around to believing her. They let her go and didn’t charge her, labeling the situation a freak accident, but they might as well have: Once everyone in her school found out, she was ostracized. The girls that used to be her best friends ignored her, the boys that used to chase after her started calling her dick killer, and someone started a rumor that she castrated Jeremy because she’d caught him cheating on her. She tried transferring to a different school, but with Central Falls being such a small town, everyone at her new school already knew what she’d done, and she was ostracized there too, so her mother quit her job (she taught English at Natalie’s former high school) and began homeschooling her. At the end of the school year, she and her family moved to Charlottesville, Virginia. Her uncle Stephen on her father’s side lived there and taught at the University of Virginia, and he was able to get her father a job there as well.

For her last year of high school, Natalie went back to an actual school to finish her education, and it was like old times: girls were interested in being her friend, and guys were interested in dating her, but Natalie, ashamed of what she’d done and feeling as though she was walking around with a giant scarlet M on her chest for murderer (although technically, the letter should’ve been on her genitalia), retreated into a shell, choosing, but not preferring, to keep to herself. She also started dressing in more dowdy clothing and stopped wearing makeup to make herself less noticeable and attractive to the opposite sex. It was far easier to reject male overtures when she wasn’t receiving any, although it didn’t make it any easier to be alone. Sometimes, she would be so lonely she’d imagine Jeremy was there with her, holding her and telling her he loved her and forgave her. That fantasy was often the only thing capable of soothing her chaotic mind at night so she could sleep. Her parents never noticed any of the changes in her. They were probably too happy to have their lives back to normal to see them. She’d overheard them one night discussing all the cruel things people had said and done to them in Central Falls after she killed Jeremy.

Natalie continued her self-imposed isolation until she moved to Boston for college. Her roommate, Theresa, had been trying to befriend her and get her to go out for weeks, but Natalie still wasn’t ready to socialize until about a couple of months into the school year, due to being homesick and too lonely to continue on in her current state. So she finally accepted Theresa’s friendship, and one night, they went to the homecoming game (if Jeremy had still been alive, he would’ve been playing in it) and the homecoming dance (they went with a big group of people), and a fraternity party held afterward. After much encouraging from Theresa, Natalie threw caution to the wind and had a few drinks, which turned into a few more drinks. Then this cute junior named Jacob began flirting with her, and after a few more drinks, they went upstairs. Not wanting to repeat what had happened in Central Falls but still wanting a boyfriend, Natalie went down on him, but wouldn’t allow things to progress any further. Natalie felt things had gone swimmingly, but was disappointed when Jacob never called after their tryst, despite telling her he would. Theresa later explained it to her: “When you hookup with a guy at a party, they tend to see you as nothing more than a hookup.”

It took Natalie a month to get over Jacob using and discarding her. She tried to forego dating, but it was hard to look around on campus and see so many other girls all coupled up and happy with their boyfriends while she was all by her lonesome, especially because she knew it was all her fault that she was alone, because she couldn’t give guys what they wanted, what they needed. So she got back on the horse with Brad. Brad was a cute guy in one of the classes she had the following semester, and she really liked him, but was afraid of getting hurt again. So she took things slow, not engaging in any sexual behavior for a few weeks, and when she finally did, she kept it blowjobs and handjobs only and wouldn’t let him touch her pussy, only her breasts.

“Are you uber religious or something?” he asked, after a month of only oral and manual stimulation. Natalie told him no, but that she had a condition that made vaginal intercourse painful, leaving out that it was painful for the guy, not for her. Brad told her that he understood, but he couldn’t date a girl if there wasn’t going to be sex, so he dumped her. Things kept going on like this with other guys: One suggested they try anal, and although Natalie didn’t really want to do this (she thought it was disgusting, and prep work for anal was a real bitch), she gave it a shot anyway to keep him, but he still ended up leaving her because anal wasn’t working for him. She caught another boyfriend cheating on her because oral wasn’t enough for him, and he missed pussy. And that was when Natalie started to get pissed off. Where do these guys get off (no pun intended) complaining about the sex they were getting (and they were getting sex, despite what they claimed, just not vaginal sex) and their lack of satisfaction when she was doing all the work and, because of her condition, wasn’t getting any pleasure at all in return? Though from what she’d heard, she supposed that was the plight of a lot of women: women were expected to love going down on their guys, to enjoy being pounded like raw meat, but ask a guy to go down on you, and he’ll act like you’re Bubba in prison trying to take advantage of him. Women’s first times were often painful; there might even be blood, and there might even be pain and blood on a woman’s hundredth time if the sex was particularly rough, but it didn’t work that way for men. What was more, they even often seemed to get pleasure from women’s pain (she’d experienced this first hand: she’d lost track of how many guys had gotten off on trying to choke and gag her with their dicks). Women had to gussy themselves up with makeup, get plastic surgery, and work hard to stay thin to be considered young and beautiful whereas men could get away with being old, fat, and balding. And you didn’t want to get her started on the raw deal women got stuck with when it came to children: Men just had to do the fun part—cum and done!—while women had to deal with hormone changes, weight gain (and the accompanying stretch marks!), the negative impact on their careers, and then the painful childbirth delivery that either tore up their vaginas or scarred up their stomachs (as if the weight gain and stretch marks weren’t already bad enough). But, thanks to her condition, Natalie wouldn’t even be able to engage in the fun part of conceiving and would have to use a procedure called gamete intrafallopian transfer if she wanted to have kids, followed by a c-section when it came time to give birth (she’d looked into it after her second anniversary with Ben). Though she probably would’ve had trouble conceiving regardless of her condition, given that her mother had fertility problems as well, as did her mother (apparently, it ran in the family), though her mother’s and her grandmother’s fertility troubles were far more conventional.

Being pissed off by the burden sex put on women didn’t erase her loneliness. And she still wanted a boyfriend—and eventually a husband. So she decided to try a dating website, hoping that it would land her a guy who would be more understanding and accepting. Her profile:

Name: Natalie Ann Young

Age: 27

DOB: 4/30/87

Favorite color: pink

Favorite drinks: Chardonnay and Fiji bottled water

Favorite foods: macarons, macaroni and cheese, dim sum, and carrot cake

Favorite television shows: Sex and the City, Dawson’s Creek, Friends, Desperate Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy, and Scandal

Favorite films: Eat, Pray, Love; Thelma & Louise; Mean Girls; Clueless; Miss Congeniality; Legally Blonde; Bring It On; Sixteen Candles; Casablanca; Romeo and Juliet (the Leonardo DiCaprio version); Vicky Cristina Barcelona; The Little Mermaid; Cruel Intentions; and The Notebook

Favorite books: The Twilight series; Eat, Pray, Love; A Tale of Two Cities; Jane Eyre; and Wuthering Heights

Favorite song: “Lovefool” by the Cardigans

Favorite album: 21 by Adele

Favorite flower: pink orchid

Hobbies: Ashtanga yoga, wine tasting, shopping, and reading

Turn ons: tall, dark hair, light eyes, muscles, great smiles, kindness, compassion, and great sense of humor

Turn offs: smoking, bad teeth, liars, cheaters, overweight, bald/balding, no job, and divorcees with children

Looking for: someone to love me unconditionally and start a family with

She thought she did a good job with it, being upfront and direct about what she wanted in a man while showing she had a fun side. But she still ended up with cheaters and assholes, and more than a few guys who looked absolutely nothing like their pictures. That was why she considered it a modern-day miracle when she met Ben. He was the first guy since Jeremy that made her feel as though having a relationship with her was more important than sex.

They’d met at Harold’s three years ago on New Year’s Eve. Jenna had invited her to a party, but the only thing she wanted to do was enjoy a glass of Chardonnay and some macarons while watching Sex and the City reruns. She was in the self-checkout lane with her items when a couple of guys who’d started celebrating early began making catcalls at her and accosting her. Ben was her white knight in shining armor: he threw the guys out and asked her whether she was okay and whether there was anything she needed, and he told her that her items were on the house. Once she finished checking out, he escorted her to her car to ensure that no other perverts bothered her. A beautiful woman shouldn’t be out all alone on a night like this, he said. And she wasn’t. Ben, apologizing for his forwardness after what had just transpired with the drunken idiots, told her that he got off work in an hour and wanted to know would she be willing to go to a party with him. She told him she wasn’t up for a party, but wouldn’t mind spending time with just him. He came to her place after work, and they got to know each other over a bottle of wine. They hadn’t even slept together that night, just talked until they were so drunk that they fell asleep. Two weeks later, when they were ready to sleep together, Natalie explained her condition (well, her version of it, anyway) to Ben, and he was completely understanding, telling her that he liked sex, but he liked her more (I honestly prefer blowjobs anyway, he said.). She spent the first year of their relationship cautiously happy, enjoying her time with Ben, but always afraid that it was only a matter of time before he left her for greener pastures. But when the second year of their relationship rolled around, and they were still going strong, she began to relax. She even told her parents about him, a first for her. She thought they would get married and start a family. And then Ben lost his job at the grocery store; she allowed him to move in with her, and once his savings ran out, she began paying all the bills. He’d never said anything, but she felt he resented her for paying the bills and for having to be her kept boy. Perhaps that was why her ersatz white knight had ended up cheating. Or maybe he was just an asshole, like all the other guys.

***

Natalie decided to head back to the party to see whether Tom was still there. Hell, it didn’t have to be Tom. Any hot guy would do, really. She was going to be alone for the rest of her life; she didn’t want to be alone tonight.