Page 21 of Frosted Fakes

"This time it's different."

"You said that about the potter last month."

"The potter was a mistake. I acknowledge that. The clay thing was weird. Sort of… squidgy. And her hands were always dirty." Shay waved her hand dismissively. "But this time, El. This time I really mean it."

Elliott finally glanced over. "Go on then. Who is it?"

"That's the thing." Shay sat up, her face a mixture of elation and genuine confusion. "I'm not sure I know which one."

"Which one what?"

"Which one is the one. There are three of them, see?" Shay clutched at her coffee. "I went to that speed-dating thing last night, you know, the one at the pub on the corner? And I met three absolutely perfect people and now I don't know what to do."

Elliott stared at her. "You went speed-dating and fell in love three times in one evening?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds excessive."

"It is excessive."

"It's romantic!" Shay protested. "It's… abundance. The universe is providing options."

"The universe is providing chaos." Elliott turned back to her laptop. "Just pick one."

"I can't just pick one! That's like asking me to choose a favorite child."

"You don't have children."

"Hypothetical children." Shay flopped backwards. "There's Sam, who's a veterinarian and has the most beautiful hands I've ever seen. Like, genuinely sculptural hands. And she laughed at all my jokes, even the bad ones."

"All your jokes are bad."

"Exactly! She liked them anyway!" Shay continued. "Then there's Tim. He’s a librarian and quoted poetry at me. Actual poetry, Elliott. Unprompted. Something about stars and longing."

"Sounds pretentious."

"It was incredibly pretentious and I loved every second of it." Shay sighed dreamily. "And then there's Jo, who works at the animal shelter and showed me pictures of rescue dogs for the entire three-minute conversation. I think I'm in love with all of them. Possibly at the same time. Is that allowed?"

"I don't think there are rules."

"Maybe they'd all be into each other too. Maybe we could start a commune." Shay's eyes went distant with possibility. "A love commune. With dogs."

"Please don't start a commune."

"You're no fun." Shay sat up properly and fixed Elliott with an assessing look. "Speaking of romance."

"We weren't speaking of romance. We were speaking of your inability to make decisions."

"Same thing, really." Shay's smile turned sly. "So. The cute blonde downstairs."

Elliott's fingers froze on the keyboard. "What about her?"

"Don't 'what about her' me. You've been accidentally living with her for nearly a week. I want details."

"There are no details. She's annoying."

"Annoying how?"

"Annoying in every possible way." Elliott resumed typing with more force than necessary. "She can't bake. She sets off the fire alarm constantly. She watches medical videos at two in the morning, and she's sleeping on my couch even though this is technically her flat now."