The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            Mom: Have you gone in for your final dress fitting?

            Yes, her mother still thought she was ten years old.

            Hallie: Yes.

            Mom: What did you think?

            Hallie: I can’t remember. Fine, I think . . . ?

            Mom: Very funny. Are you coming over this week?

            Her mother made spaghetti and meatballs almost every Wednesday night, and Hallie usually tried to be there.

            But she’d avoided it for the past month as the wedding planning amped up to a frenetic pace. It was all her mom and sister could talk about, which she totally understood, but it usually devolved into a discussion of how they would have an extra plus-one to work with because Hallie wasn’t bringing anyone.

            And how awkward it might be for her, since Ben was the best man.

            Yes, her sister was marrying the best friend of the man who’d shredded Hallie’s heart.

            They usually lowered their voices when they discussed it, as if the entire scenario were the worst possible thing that could happen to her, and she’d decided it was better to miss out on meatballs than maim a family member.

            Hallie: I have plans Wednesday, but I’ll swing by on Thursday to watch Dancing Centerfolds with you.

            Mom: I hope Darla gets eliminated. Her cha-cha was ass.

            Hallie: But Delvin’s samba was even worse.

            Mom: His bum made it okay, though.

            Hallie went out onto her balcony and took a deep breath of chilly September air, thrilled by her view. The city twinkled in front of her, below her, and she didn’t think she’d ever want to move back to the suburbs.

            She loved the bustle of downtown, and she also loved the utter adultness of living alone.

            Her phone buzzed, but this time it was Jack.

            Jack: Hey TB, are we cool?

            Hallie: I am. The coolest.

            Jack: For real—you didn’t get freaked about that weird moment on your living room floor?

            So it hadn’t just been her. He’d felt it, too. She typed: Yeah, what WAS that?

            Jack: I think it was just two young, healthy people having a split second of natural chemistry. Probably just happened because we already bonked, so our bodies know each other.

            Hallie: Ew you did not just say that.

            Jack: It’s totally natural to get that bonking feeling. The important thing is that we immediately remembered we don’t like each other that way, don’t you think?

            Hallie: Wasn’t that a song? “You’ve Lost That Bonking Feeling”? That made her laugh as she leaned against the balcony railing. Well I am fine with it, whatever it was, as long as you are.

            Jack: I am. It never happened.

            Hallie: Good.

            Jack: Great. So have you talked to the dentist today?

            Hallie: Not since this morning, when he told me he had to go coach his niece’s soccer team.

            Jack: Wow, he opened with a total hormonal crusher, didn’t he?

            Hallie: Yeah, he did.

            Jack: Did it work?

            Hallie: It didn’t hurt. She couldn’t picture Stephen’s face at the moment, but she could picture Jack’s, so she texted: Tell me about your girl.

            Jack: Her name is Carlie, she teaches eighth grade math, and she’s a redhead. Likes sand volleyball and getting railed.

            Hallie: Is she fun to talk to?

            Jack: I’m not sure yet.

            Hallie: I suppose that’s what Wed is for, right?

            Jack: I suppose so. I guess I’ll see you Wednesday, then.

            Hallie: I guess so.