The True Love Experiment

Connor: I believe it. You’ve met all eight of your Heroes by now. How are you feeling?

Fizzy: How am I feeling, let’s see. In my book Paradise Dreaming, the main character, Jacqueline, has been shipwrecked for three years. She’s tough, so she makes it through, but when she’s rescued and in the safety of the ship captain’s cabin, she’s so famished and overcome by all the delicacies on board that she gorges herself until she can’t remember her own name. I feel a little like that.

Connor: Too much of a good thing?

Fizzy: Maybe.

Connor: Isn’t the hero of that book the ship’s doctor?

Fizzy: He is! And he stays by her side all night and nurses-slash-bangs her back to health.

Connor: [laughs] This is a very Fizzy story.

Fizzy: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Connor: Good, because it is. We don’t want to sway our viewers, who will begin voting as soon as this episode airs. But tell me your first impressions of each of your Heroes. Let’s start with Dax, our Tattooed Bad Boy.

Fizzy: Oh, poor Dax. He got straight-out-of-the-gate, awkward Fizzy.

Connor: You didn’t look nervous at all. I’d say you two had a connection.

Fizzy: I think so, too. I’m definitely not going skydiving or rock climbing or bear wrestling with him, but he was great.

Connor: Next we had Isaac, Hot Nerd.

Fizzy: Also great. Did you see his arms?

Connor: I think all of America saw his arms.

Fizzy: All of America is lucky. Would it be too forward to ask that he be shirtless next time?

Connor: Maybe a bit. You two seemed to hit it off.

Fizzy: I think so, too.

Connor: Hero number three, Benji, aka Tex, our Cowboy.

Fizzy: I know I’m not supposed to influence the audience, so you can cut this part out, but he asked what my dad thinks about me writing romance. Inappropriate and weird.

Connor: Moving on! Next was Evan, The One That Got Away and the only one of our Heroes you’ve met before.

Fizzy: That’s right. We dated for a few months when we were in our late twenties. He’s a really good guy.

Connor: Who happened to have an unfortunate tattoo.

Fizzy: Ay, caramba.

Connor: Indeed. But he seemed grateful for your feedback.

Fizzy: [laughs] That’s because Evan is easygoing. His glass is always half-full.

Connor: I’d wager to say yours is, too.

Fizzy: That depends on what’s in the glass…

Connor: Cheeky. Let’s move on to Arjun, our Mr. Darcy. Thoughts?

Fizzy: That I bet he color codes his sock drawer.

Connor: [laughs] What about Nick, the Cinnamon Roll?

Fizzy: This archetype is a bit more inside baseball, so for the viewers who don’t know, a Cinnamon Roll is a hero who is sweet and supportive. He has the heroine’s best interests at heart.

Connor: Right.

Fizzy: You know, underneath those suits you have some definite Cinnamon Roll tendencies. So many layers, Connor Prince III. One might even say I find you hard to peg.

Connor: You know me, like an onion.

Fizzy: Or a cake. But back to Nick. I liked him.

Connor: That’s good, I’m sure it came across to the audience. Tell me about Colby, the Navy SEAL.

Fizzy: I would really like him to expand his reading choices.

Connor: [laughs] I’m sure he’d enjoy that, too. Then we had Jude.

Fizzy: The Vampire. He was very funny.

Connor: Is humor important to you?

Fizzy: Oh, absolutely. I need someone who doesn’t take himself too seriously, who can let go and have fun even if it’s out of his comfort zone.

Connor: Dance like nobody’s watching?

Fizzy: Or sing at a boy band concert like nobody can hear.

[both laugh]





twenty-six FIZZY




For the first twenty minutes after I arrive at Jess’s on Friday night, I breathlessly download every detail I can remember about the eight dates. The Heroes’ faces, clothes, voices, jobs, whether I liked them, what we talked about, what kinds of jokes they made.

When I describe the hilarious moment my ex walked into the café, a knowing grin painted on his pretty face—and an even bigger grin painted on Connor’s—Jess nods in recognition.

“Is Evan the one with the tattoo you hated?” she asks. “Has that great laugh?”

“Update, he was the guy with the tattoo. He got it removed. And yeah, Chinese American, played softball with my brother. I put his name on the list because my dating past is littered with land mines, and Evan is a good guy, if not the sexual savior I need. But now I’m thanking past me for including him,” I tell her. “He’s great, and if all of these other men turn out to be duds, at least Evan and I can take a fun vacation together to Fiji.”

“Or maybe things will be different this time without Bart Simpson standing between you.”

“Maybe.”

“So give me a rating, who’s the top pick so far?”

“Probably Isaac. He was…” I pause for dramatic effect and give my head a shake to clear it. “He was so hot, Jess. And so interesting.”

“I seeeeeeeee.” She leans forward, eating this up. “And were there sparks? Fireworks? Bells ringing in the background?”

“Who knows. That’s up to the audience to decide, I guess.” If Jess senses the subtext there—that even after only the first round of dates I’m already considering I might not fall for one of these objectively fantastic Heroes because I can’t stop looking over their heads at the executive producer in the background—she doesn’t show it. She’s too busy living vicariously through my crazy dating adventures. Just like old times.

“So are we watching the first episode together tomorrow?”

“I just need to make sure that Connor wasn’t planning that I would watch it with him, but otherwise, yes.”

Jess’s eyes narrow. “Like, just the two of you?”

“No,” I say, but the word sounds uncertain, like I might really mean Maybe.

“Fizz,” she says in low warning.

“Well, maybe he was planning a thing!”

“Why would he plan to watch it just with you?”

“No, no, like—” I exhale, wincing. “Okay, I have something to tell you, but you absolutely cannot get mad at me.”

“With that kind of lead-up I make no such promises.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We stare at each other in a silent standoff until I blink away, casually inspecting my nail polish. Usually, the odds of us each giving in are evenly split, but given that I’m the one with the juicy information—and I know she’s spent the last eight hours doggedly running statistics on an enormous numbers thing—I’m confident I can win this one.

The silence of the room seems to hum with phantom sound. That spreadsheet must’ve been a doozy because she breaks much faster than I would have expected. “God, fine, just tell me.”

“Sunday night,” I say, leaning in, “the night before shooting started, Connor and I had our last joy excursion.”

“Date.”

“Excursion. We went to Torrey Pines to watch the bioluminescent waves.”

Her hmmm is suspicious. She knows exactly where this is going.

“Well, spoiler alert, we ended up kissing.”

Jess face-palms. “Fizzy.”

I point an accusatory finger. “The agreed-upon terms stated that you can’t get mad!” She drags her hand down her face, revealing a fake smile. “As I was saying, the kissing turned into making out and I was on his lap and—” I widen my eyes at her and lower my voice. “Jessica Marie, I am not positive because I did not see it, but I think Connor might have the biggest penis of any man I’ve ever touched.”

Silence. Her expression flattens.

“Wait. I need wine for this.” She disappears for a minute and then returns, setting two glasses of red wine down on the low coffee table and sitting across from me. “I don’t want to encourage this, or for you to think I am somehow condoning it, but how big are we talking?”

I look behind me to make sure there are no impressionable ten-year-old ears listening in.

Jess quickly swallows a sip, shaking her head. “Juno’s at Nana and Pops’s house.”

Reassured we’re alone, I hold my index fingers an impressive—yet accurate—distance apart and then make a circle with the fingers of both hands to approximate girth. “Probably like this?”