Page 2 of Dating and Other Theories
“See ya,” Jonathan said, looking pleased with himself as he left.
Rolling her eyes, she cleaned the lint trap on the dryer—because of course he hadn’t done it—and transferred her wet load out of the washer. She fed four quarters into the ancient machine and as it rumbled to life she set the timer on her phone for forty-five minutes. Because she was considerate of the other people she shared the laundry facilities with, and she knew how to use a damn clock.
As she was letting herself back into her apartment upstairs, her phone started blaring “Pocketful of Sunshine,” the ringtone she’d assigned to her best friend.
Jin-Hee Kang, known as Jinny to everyone but her Korean parents, was the only person Esther knew who actually liked to talk on the phone anymore. The rest of her friends communicated via texting or social media. Not Jinny though. She liked to chat.
Esther kicked her apartment door closed behind her as she fished her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. Her apartment reeked of cigarette smoke again. Jonathan must have come upstairs and gone straight onto his balcony for a smoke. “Hey, what’s up?” she said into the phone as she trudged over to the balcony door and slammed it shut.
“What are you doing today?” Jinny asked.
It was Sunday, and the only thing Esther had on the agenda was laundry, cleaning out the cat litter box, and maybe burning through some of the TV shows stacking up on her DVR. She regarded her reflection in the glass door: the dull brown hair twisted into a messy bun, the zit forming on the tip of her long nose, the stretched-out tank top and cut-off jeans shorts that made up her laundry day uniform. “I’ve got high tea with Prince William and the King later, but I can push it if I have to.”
“I need a pool hang. Can I come over?”
“Sure.”
Esther lived in the Palms neighborhood of Los Angeles, in an older courtyard building with a pool. Jinny lived nearby in Mar Vista, in a newer, bigger building that didn’t have a pool or a courtyard, so when the weather was nice she liked to come over to Esther’s and hang out. The weather was nice about eighty percent of the time in Los Angeles, which meant they spent a lot of weekends sitting by the pool in Esther’s courtyard.
“With mimosas,” Jinny added.
“Uh oh. What happened?” Whenever one of them was having a crappy week, they’d make up a pitcher of mimosas and sip them from champagne flutes by the pool.
“I’ll tell you when I get there.”
Esther pulled open her fridge to take stock. “I’ve still got a bottle of champagne left over from last time.”
“Good,” Jinny said. “I’ll be there in thirty with the OJ.”
Chapter Two
Jinny showed up at Esther’s apartment exactly thirty minutes later in a blue sundress and matching flip-flops, carrying a jug of Simply Orange and a box of doughnuts.
“Oh god,” Esther said, lifting an eyebrow at the doughnuts. “Is someone dead?”
Jinny plopped her things on Esther’s Ikea dining table. “Only my self-respect.” She was twenty-four, like Esther, but her small stature and flawless complexion made her look much younger. She was always being carded at bars and hit on by creepy guys who thought she was a high school student.
“What does that mean?” Esther asked.
Jinny’s lips pursed into a Cupid’s bow. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” Esther asked with a feeling of dread.
“I sort of kinda slept with Stuart.”
“What?”
Stuart was Jinny’s ex-boyfriend—her very recently ex-boyfriend. They’d only broken up a week ago, and it had been all Esther could do to refrain from throwing a party to celebrate. The guy was a grade A dick, and he’d been a dick even before he’d cheated on Jinny.
Esther had tried to like him. She’d even managed it for a while. He was charismatic and attractive, and even if he wasn’t exactly Jinny’s intellectual equal, it was easy to see what she liked about him. At first.
Then Esther had begun to notice little things that set her teeth on edge. Like the habit he had of resting his hand on the back of Jinny’s neck and steering her around in front of him. It was trivial, but it rubbed Esther the wrong way. Like Jinny was a child or a pet he was parading around. Then she started to notice how he was always asking Jinny to get him things—another drink, something to eat, the phone he’d left in the next room—but never reciprocated. And how often he talked over Jinny, and the way he’d put her down subtly with backhanded compliments he always passed off as jokes.
The first time Esther saw him tell Jinny to lighten up after she got annoyed by one of his little “jokes” at her expense, Esther knew. Stuart was Bad News.
Maybe he wasn’t abusive—yet—but the potential was there. He had all the makings.
The only fight she and Jinny had ever had was a few months ago when Esther had told her what she thought of Stuart. That he was a narcissistic, emotionally abusive asshole who would end up hurting her if she didn’t get the hell away from him.
