The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,52
she kept hooking up with men hoping that she’d find “the one.” Mom was more than a dreamer; she was an optimist. And while she was also naive to the point of ridiculousness when it came to members of the opposite sex, at least she tried.
Maybe Buck and I are better off as friends, but I still can’t help feeling a little hurt that he didn’t jump at the chance to kiss me. I want a man to wrap me in his arms before tearing my clothes off and having his way with me. I want to feel loved and desired.
Having solid employment, savings, and a goal to buy my own house doesn’t feel like enough. I want it all. I quickly take my second shower of the morning and change into a dress. Then I stare long and hard at myself in the mirror and ask the all-important question, WWMRD? That’s right—What would Molly Ringwald do?
And while I know the answer is that she’d wait while John Hughes wrote her the perfect Hollywood ending, her characters always got off their butts and put themselves out there to be found by the right guy. She wouldn’t hide away in fear.
I change my lipstick from a pale pink to a bright red and tell my reflection, “Time waits for no woman, Ashley Monroe. It’s time to get busy kissing some frogs.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
December 27, 2008
Dear Molly,
Buck and I have been talking non-stop about how much fun it is to have a real social life in college. We both have friends, go to parties, and wait for it … we’re both dating! I can’t imagine what it would have been like to feel this degree of acceptance in high school. It makes me sad for the girl I was not even six months ago.
Buck and I are on our way. It’s the most exciting feeling ever. I can’t imagine how far I will have come by this time next year. You know what? Even though my happy ending isn’t coming Hollywood fast, it’s still coming. I just know it.
Once we’re inside Buck’s fancy rental car, he asks, “Where to?”
“Shake n’ Burger,” I tell him.
“I thought you were done slumming and wanted me to take you to every fancy place in town.”
“I do, but first I want a double cheeseburger with extra Thousand Island dressing and an order of onion rings.”
“That sounds disgusting,” he says before adding, “I’ll have the same thing.”
“Are you seeing anyone right now?” I ask him.
“You’d know if I was. I message you every time I meet a new woman.”
“Who was the last one? I can’t remember if it was the hand model or the lawyer.” Of course they live in London and are hand models or lawyers. Suddenly I want to know everything about Buck’s social life. I can’t help but wonder if all the women he dates are more impressive than me. Oh, my god, I’m jealous. Not only is the sensation completely out of character in my relationship with Buck, but it’s intense.
“The last woman I dated was a lawyer, but our schedules never meshed. She worked six days a week and I worked on her day off. You can’t have a love connection when you never see each other.”
“Where do you meet people in London?”
“Everywhere from the pub to parties. Sometimes friends set me up.”
“Sammy is pretty much my only friend still in town,” I tell him.
“Whatever you do, do not let her play matchmaker,” he warns.
“Don’t worry, I’m not that desperate. But seriously, I don’t know where people meet. I’m certainly not going to find anyone at the nursing home, and the internet skeeves me out.”
“Somebody has to be willing to tell us.” After ordering our lunch, Buck asks the kid at the counter where all the cool kids are hanging out these days. That’s how we learn there’s a ragin’ party at Nick Trudeau’s house tonight.
After unwrapping a greasy burger, I ask, “Do you ever regret not going to more parties in high school?”
“Not enough to crash Nick’s soiree, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not. I just meant that neither of us had that great of a high school experience. What would you do differently if you could go back in time?”
“I’d start hanging out with you a lot earlier than prom.”
“Really?” I ask, feeling a rush of gratitude that someone thought highly of me during that awful time.
“I bet we could have become professional ballroom dancers if we had. Talk about cool,” he