Editing this

Guys always say girls love jerks. Sometimes they’re wrong, but sometimes they’re just dead-on right. And why? Well, first of all, it’s just not girls. Everyone loves a challenge. And jerks are just that: a challenge. You think you’ve pegged them and then they slip out of your grasp. You think that just because they dictate your feelings that they’re going to give a damn about them.

Think again.

“Fine,” he says. “You look like a little lost puppy. And they don’t let dogs on public transit.”

There are so, so many ways I could take that. Maybe he’s calling me ugly. Maybe he’s calling me a bitch. Maybe he’s calling me an animal, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone tried that.

“Well,” I say, “thanks.”

I don’t mean to sound sincere. I want my voice to be cutting, sarcastic, all those ugly feelings that cut the side of your tongue when you experience them. Instead I sound grateful and for an instant I simply hate myself for being a –

A –

“Puppy,” he says. “It’s cute, Meredith. Really.”

Okay, class, what do we know about puppies? They squawk. They nip. They cry. And they need, need, need.

“Get your damn clothes on,” I say, “and let’s go.”

He looks surprised. I barely hold back a grin. Looks like this pup has a little bit of bite to go with her bark. Just try whacking me on the nose with some newspaper. I double-dare you.

When he wanders to the bathroom to change – because apparently now he’s shy – I grab my phone and text Paul.

OF COURSE, the response comes near-instantly. SOLANA BEACH? I’LL JUST CHECK THE ARRIVAL TIMES WHEN IT GETS CLOSER. SEE YOU THERE …

Is this what it’s like to have someone who gives a damn? It feels simple, almost too easy. Almost like I should be working harder for this. Like love is a treat dangled before your nose, so close you could smell it, taste it, but not close enough for it to feed you.