“It’s right here,” Jake said, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me toward the entrance to one of the many downtown art galleries. He pulled the door open, and I stepped inside. The floor was pale wood; the walls, ceiling, and pedestals were all lacquered white. The neutral colors made the colorful art in the room stand out.

“This reminds me of college,” I said. “I went to the Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design. There were always cool displays everywhere.”

As Jake and I rounded the corner into a large open room, my heels echoed, each step sounding loud in the quiet space. We stopped in front of a large painting done in red, thick paint in some places and barely a hint in others. There were two tiny blue squares, one just left of center and one in the right corner.

Jake crossed his arms and studied it. “Ah, yes, a lovely impressionist piece, reminiscent of…that one painter.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “Let’s see, what was his name?”

I looked at him, waiting for him to come up with it. Then his lips curved up and he asked, “How’d I do? Get any of it right?”

I shrugged. “No idea. I had one Art History class late at night, and the guy dimmed the lights and showed slides as he lectured in a monotone voice. It was almost impossible not to fall asleep. Plus, I always sucked at dates, so I studied enough to pass the class and immediately forgot everything.”

“I was waiting for you to tell me one of your rules about dating included finding a guy who knew art,” he said, his smile widening.

I nudged him with my elbow. “Very funny.”

He put his hand on my back again, leading me toward the next painting. I was so caught up in the warmth of his touch and my quickening pulse that the next painting took me off guard. “Whoa,” I said as I looked at the gruesome image. There was a face with sagging gray skin, one missing eyeball, and blood covering its teeth and chin. “It’s a zombie.”

He gave me this smile that made me feel like I’d been caught, even though I wasn’t sure what I’d done. “I notice you stated a fact instead of your opinion.”

Okay, so I had been caught. “Well, the detail is impressive, but if I had that in my house, it’d give me nightmares.” It hit me then that we were here to see his friend’s work. “Please don’t tell me this is your friend’s piece, because I’ll feel horrible.”

He leaned closer to read the card by it. “Nope, not hers. And it says ‘self-portrait.’” He glanced back at me. “I always knew zombies existed.”

I laughed. “Irrefutable proof, right there.”

Jake laughed, too, and of course I had to notice that on top of everything else, he had a sexy laugh. He tipped his head toward the other room and I followed him. Inside was a giant, metal sculpture of a skeleton riding a bicycle.

“That’s actually really cool,” I said. “Interesting and unique.”

“Should we have them wrap it up and take it to your place?”

“Um. Yeah, it’s more of a look-at-once kind of cool. See, when you decorate a place the size of mine, you have to exercise proportion control.”

The murmur of voices floated from a room in the back. I peeked past the divider and saw a couple people milling around the area. “I’m guessing your friend is in there.”

“I bet you’re right.”

The back room had a sea of colorful, twisted glass sculptures. Sculptures I could easily place in my clients’ homes. I turned to study one that looked like blue-and-silver flames.

“Jake, you came!”

I turned to see a petite girl with choppy black-and-red hair—like the brightest, most unnatural shade of red—hug Jake.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Not wanting to intrude, I moved to study the rest of the sculptures. There was a yellow-and-purple one with thin, squiggly pieces exploding from it. Then I saw the little pink sculpture up on a pedestal. It had a green stem and a giant pink bud flopped over the front. Mrs. Crabtree would love it.

Jake and Tina walked up to me. Anyway, I assumed it was Tina. For some reason, the girl was looking at me like I was some kind of adorable woodland creature.

“This is Darby,” Jake said. “Darby, this is my friend Tina.”

“Your stuff is amazing,” I said.

“Darby’s thing is honesty, so you can be sure she wouldn’t say that unless she meant it.”

I pointed at the flower. “And I need this. Mrs. Crabtree’s got a pink bathroom and it has this shelf that needs decorations. That piece will fit perfectly there and luckily the shelf’s high enough her granddaughter won’t be able to reach it, so it won’t get broken.” I smiled at Tina. “Sorry, you don’t know her, so you probably don’t care.”

Tina returned my smile. “I just like hearing that my stuff will be in a bathroom.”

I laughed. “This bathroom is the size of most people’s bedrooms, so I swear, it’s going to be very well done.” I glanced around the room. “Actually, I’d love to get your card. I’m an interior designer and I’m always on the lookout for good accent pieces. And these are all extraordinary.”

Tina nudged Jake. “I like her.”

Jake’s eyes locked onto mine and I forgot how to breathe for a second. “Me, too.”

…

“I better take that,” Jake said as we walked out of the gallery.

I had Mrs. Crabtree’s sculpture in a bag hanging from my arm. Tina had wrapped it in padding and stuffed it into a box. “It’s not like it’s heavy.”

“No offense, but I haven’t known you very long, and I’ve already seen you lose your shoe and dump everything out of your purse.”

“I swear I’m not normally clumsy.”

Jake flashed me a skeptical look and held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment, then went ahead and gave him the bag. “We fixed the floor in the restaurant, by the way. There was a crack that needed to be filled in. I think that’s why your heel caught.”

“Then it’s a good thing you took care of it.” I bumped my shoulder into his, no longer able to keep myself from flirting with him a little bit. “Especially if someone as clumsy as me is going to be in there again.” And who was I kidding? I couldn’t avoid Blue much longer.

After being around Jake and Tina, I’d seen another side of him. He was still his charming self, but there was something more. The way he talked to Tina, the way he listened as she went into excruciating detail about how she made each sculpture. I’d also been in the elevator with him enough times to know that his floor was at the top, where the expensive, great-view condos were. “So, you’re a good-looking, successful guy…”

“Thanks,” Jake said.

“Not a compliment. I’m wondering why you’re still single. And I’m sure you’re thinking the same about me. The truth is, I don’t really believe that I’ll ever have a successful relationship.”

He pressed his lips together. “Isn’t that a little cynical?”

“No. It’s a lot cynical. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Jake slowed his pace and studied me for a moment. “I guess I just haven’t found the right person yet. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe she’s out there.”

“You don’t have to pretend you believe in”—I threw up my hands and made air quotes—“‘the one’ and falling madly in love to impress me. I wasted too much time believing in all that, so now I’m realistic. The odds of you and me working aren’t great.”

“But what if we do work out? What if we end up being perfect for each other?”

I shook my head. “See, that’s the problem. Everyone’s been taught this unrealistic idea that there’s someone out there who’s perfect for us. A soul mate who completes us. But I’ve found that’s just not the way things work.”

Jake grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I’m going to make a guess as to why you feel that way. If I guess right, I get a date.”

I twisted to face him. “You think you know enough about me to guess how I got so cynical?”

He met my gaze, a challenging glint in his eye. “One date.”

“If you guess right.” I knew he couldn’t. It had taken a lot of bad relationships to get me to this point. The analysis of all of my exes as I turned them into case studies probably hadn’t helped with the cynicism, but it had made me smarter. They say the truth will set you free.

He looked me up and down, like I might be hiding all my secrets in the way I was standing. “Child of divorce. Watched your parents never find love, so now you don’t believe people can be happy together.”

I crossed my arms. “Wrong. My parents are divorced, but both of them found love. They’re both happily married to other people now.”

“I was still right.”

“Half-right,” I corrected.

Jake grinned. “So I get half a date. We’ll go somewhere and get an appetizer. Or we’ll go to a movie and walk out in the middle of it.”

I stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to smile or laugh or shake my head and sigh. “I can’t figure you out. Why are you so determined? We’ve had a few good conversations, and I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m attracted to you, what with the fact that I get all flustered whenever you’re around—but really, you don’t know that much about me.” I stuck my hand on my hip. “And don’t even try to tell me it’s in my eyes, that you just have a feeling about us, or something like that.”

He took a step, bringing us so close our bodies were almost touching. “I guess it’s how when you talk about your clients, I can tell you care about them. You’re more honest than most people I know. You’re witty and make really funny jokes about art. And I think it’s cute how you put your fist on your hip when you’re about to tell me all your rules.”

I dropped my fist. “And how is it you think you know all this?”

“Because whenever you’re around, I pay attention.” His eyes bored into mine with such intensity my throat went dry. “You might not believe in seeing someone and knowing something’s different about them, but I do. And there’s something different about you.” Jake ran his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Then he grabbed my hand and continued down the sidewalk. “So? Where do you want our half date to be?”

Chapter Eight

You know what I was not doing as I scrubbed my bathroom floor Saturday morning? Singing. The only thing coming from my mouth as I scoured that brown crap between the tiles was a stream of profanities. Not exactly princess behavior, but as I’ve mentioned, I’m no princess, and the guys I’ve dated are far from princes—evidently I have trouble identifying the good guys and end up picking ones who’ll hurt me.

Sometimes I wonder if my dating life would’ve gone differently had my first boyfriend not ended up being a huge jerk. That boy taught me a big life lesson about trust. Apparently not enough to keep from making several mistakes, but he taught me that not everyone is as great as they seem.

Snow White Case Study: Sherman/The Prince

My Age: 17

In order to get the full effect of why and how things happened with Sherman, I need to go back to when I was thirteen and my entire life was uprooted.

Mom and Dad had been divorced for three years when Mom met Dwight. After four months of dating, he proposed. Six months later, they got married, and I suddenly gained a stepdad and twin stepbrothers. Mom and I moved from Aurora to Dwight’s ranch in Longmont. Even though it was only an hour drive away, it felt like moving countries.

The entire summer before my freshman year, Drew and Devin tortured me. They called me a baby for still watching Disney movies, pointed out when I got zits, and used my clothes and bedding to line the horse pens for reasons I still don’t understand. And everything I did was “like a girl.” I threw like a girl, talked like a girl, cried like a girl, dressed like a girl. They spat it out like the biggest insult, and I took it as one. I don’t know why. Because after all, I was a girl.

Mom assured me life would get better—that I’d meet lots of new friends when school started.

Then school started.

Everyone hated me. I was going through this phase where I was all knees and elbows, with string-bean legs up to my neck. The other students made fun of my clothes even though they were wearing trends from three years ago. At the time, finding pants to fit my long legs was impossible, meaning I got asked when the flood was coming on a regular basis.

Two months into the school year, I couldn’t take it anymore. I missed my old life and my old friends. I parked myself at a table in the back of the school cafeteria, looked at the food on my plate, and started crying. I hoped no one would notice.