The Espressologist

19

I was never one for school sports, but experience on the cross-country team would really come in handy about now. I can't find Em anywhere. Did she slip behind a building? Did she duck into one of the stores? Did she turn down a different block? I don't know how she got away from me, but she did. I've looked down each block on the way back to Wired Joe's, and nothing. I'll have to peek in and see if she is there. I doubt she'll stay at work tonight, but she does have to get her things. I don't want to go back to work; I don't want to face all those people again tonight, but what choice do I have? I have to find Em.

At Wired Joe's, I peek through the glass, looking for any sign of Em. I am instantly relieved to see that the Gabby Girlz and their crew have packed up and left. I feel a little pang of guilt at the line of people still waiting for me to come back and match them. Yikes.

Brenda, Sarah, and the Macchiato Maniac are working behind the counter. Mom and Dad are sitting on a cushy red velvet loveseat drinking cappuccinos. And Katie is standing near the condiment bar, flicking sugar packets against her thumb. I don't see Ava. Maybe she's in back consoling Em. I tap at the glass, trying to get Katie's attention so I can ask her if she's seen Em.

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

"Jane!" Derek booms from behind me.

"Ahhh!" I jump a foot off the ground. "Derek, why are you always sneaking up on me?"

"What are you doing outside? Right in the middle of an Espressology night?" he yells, both hands on his hips. He totally looks like my mom when she's pissed at me.

"I ... I needed some air," I say.

"You couldn't wait five minutes to get some air? You couldn't wait until they wrapped up the Gabby Girlz interview first?"

"Yeah. I really needed it."

"Well, if you are done getting your air, you need to get right back inside and finish helping that long line of people. You left us all waiting on you, Jane."

"Wait," I say. "Have you seen Em? I have to find Em first."

"No, she took off, too. What is with you girls tonight?

Why is everyone taking off when they are supposed to be working?"

"Derek, I have to go after her," I say, giving him a pleading look. "You don't understand, I really, really have to find her."

"And you can. After ten, when you are done working.

Right now you have to get back in there and matchmake."

"But, Derek–"

"No. There is nothing you can say. Now get in there."

Everyone claps and cheers for me again, but this time I can't even muster up a smile. All I can think about is Em and how much she must hate me right now.

On Wednesday afternoon, I'm lying on the couch in my living room watching Dr. Phil He's yelling at some chubby woman in an ill-fitting light green suit, telling her in his heavy Texan accent, "When you choose the behavior, you choose the consequences." He might as well be talking to me. I chose the behavior (well, really Cam did, when he kissed me, but I didn't exactly push him off me or anything) and now I have to live with the consequences of Em never talking to me again and losing my very best friend in the whole world.

I don't know how I got through the rest of Friday night. I know I talked to people and got down their information for future matches, but I didn't do any more on-the-spot matches that night–much to the disappointment of that cute army guy who stuck around until closing. I just couldn't stop thinking about Em. And I tried calling her over and over again every chance I got, but she wouldn't pick up my calls. I've tried texting her, IMing her ... heck, I even went to her apartment on Sunday to try to talk to her, but her mom said Em was too sick to have company. I've felt so terrible ever since she saw Cam and me kissing. I called in sick to work on Sunday and Tuesday. I haven't been able to eat a thing either.

Except for Ben & Jerry's cookie dough ice cream. Two pints since Friday. I feel just wretched. And now Dr. Phil is yelling at me through the television.

Cam has been calling me, too. Twice anyway. I told my mom to take messages, though. What am I supposed to say to him at this point? And that kiss! That totally great kiss– what did it mean? He can't like me and I can't like him, right? He's with Em. How way way wrong would that be for me to hook up with her boyfriend? Of course that is what she thinks right now, but if she would let me I would totally explain that it was just a ... a ... I don't know what it was. Argh!

"Honey." Mom interrupts my thoughts and pushes my legs over so she can sit down on the couch. "You can't live on the couch watching silly talk shows the rest of your life."

"It's not silly, it's educational, and yes I can," I say without taking my eyes off the television screen.

"Em still won't talk to you?" Mom asks gently.

"No."

"Don't worry, sweetie," she says, patting my leg. "She can't stay mad at you forever. You've been best friends for too long."

"Mmm-hmm," I mumble. I hope Mom is right. What would I do without Em? We sit there silently for a few minutes watching Dr. Phil rip into some other chick. Seems this one only likes to date married men. Like that is just some kind of coincidence. Get off my back, Phil!

"Your segment on The Gabby Girlz airs tomorrow morning at nine, you know. Are you going to watch it?"

Mom asks.

"I don't know," I say, sitting up. And I really don't. On the one hand I want to see how I look on TV and how the interview came off, but on the other hand it'll be like death watching Will and Melissa on their date. "I don't know if I can."

"How about I record it and then you can decide if you want to watch it later?" Mom stands, and I nod my head in agreement and sink back into the couch.

I already know that Will and Melissa really hit it off on their date. Daisy was only too eager to tell me everything she knew when I called in sick on Sunday. She said that the assistant producer of The Gabby Girlz had called Derek and told him that the segment was perfect.

They were impressed with my matchmaking ability and how it actually worked. They said Will and Melissa were holding hands, kissing, and exchanging phone numbers before the end of the date. Real nice. I've been working on landing him for months and in just a few hours he's kissing her and giving her his phone number (and probably the real one at that). Fat chance he'll ever get free drinks from me again. I'm so done with guys. Maybe I'll get a goldfish.

The phone rings.

"Honey," Mom calls, "can you get it?"

"Can you?" I ask, not wanting to move any more than I have to.

"No, just pick it up, Jane. Maybe it's Em?"

"Fine!" I'm mad that I have to get up and walk all the way across the room to where the phone is parked upright in its charger base. I press TALK and put the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Jane?" a male asks.

"Yeah, this is," I say with a sigh.

"It's Derek. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know. So-so."

"I've been worried about you. Think you'll be in tomorrow?"

"Probably not. I still have a bit of a fever."

"Well, Friday is our last Espressology night. You have to make it in for that at least," he tells me.

"Oh, yeah," I reply. "I almost forgot about it."

"It's just one more week. You can do it, Jane," he says encouragingly. "You've done a fantastic job. I'm sure you'll get something out of all this–that big bonus or something."

I guess if I can't have a boyfriend, a bonus isn't so bad.

I sigh again. "I'll be there."

I glance over at the calendar on the wall. I can't believe how fast the month has gone by. It's almost Christmas. All these people I've matched will have boyfriends and girlfriends to cuddle with in front of fireplaces with cups of cocoa for the holidays. Even that nasty stupid Melissa. And what do I have to cuddle? A possible bonus. Yay.