Surrender

“So how’s the boy situation over there?” I could hear the humor in Erica’s voice, like she’d purposely waited exactly a week after I arrived to ask me that question, and I couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped my lips.

“I haven’t really spent a lot of time scouting guys, since I’m here with my parents,” I replied, trying to keep my voice as light as possible, despite my irritation. To her credit, she actually hadn’t said a word about getting me a boyfriend since I arrived, so I felt a little mean for getting annoyed right off the bat.

“There’s a difference between scouting and noticing,” she pointed out. “So have you noticed anyone?”

“The guy who taught my dance lesson was really cute, but I’m not sure he’s my type. Or that I’m his.” I had told her all about the dance lesson, but I’d avoided using any pronouns when referring to the instructor, so I was almost positive she’d drawn the conclusion that the teacher was a girl.

“Wait, a guy taught you how to dance? And he was cute? How is a cute dancer guy not your type?!”

I thought about it for a minute. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure I know what my type is.”

“That is a problem.” There was the sound of shuffling and scraping and a muffled curse word, and then Erica spoke again. “Alright, let’s try to write down your celebrity crushes and maybe some things you know you want in a boyfriend, and we’ll try to figure out your type that way.”

This sounded like a bit of a pointless exercise, but I humored her anyway. “Okay.”

“First, Chris Evans, of course.” Erica clucked her tongue, probably as she wrote down Chris Evans’ name. I definitely did have a thing for him, especially his cute personality. “Who else? Tyler Hoechlin?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” I bit my lip, since Erica had the two biggest celebrity crushes I had. “I can’t think of anyone else off the top of my head, though.”

“You were so into Joe Jonas, so I’m including him. You had so many posters of the Jonas Brothers where you cut out Nick and Kevin that I would have felt bad if I didn’t hate them so much.”

My face set on fire as I argued back, “Hey, I was ten. Does that even still count?”

“Sure.” There was a short pause, and then Erica asked, “Okay, let’s do personality now. Is there anything off the top of your head that you definitely want a guy to act like?”

This was getting a little embarrassing, but we’d already started, so backing out would get me nothing but complaints. “Smart, funny, really nice and outgoing,” I listed off the bat, since those seemed the most generic and obvious. “Someone who loves animals.”

“Olivia, you’ve basically just described half the male population. You have to narrow it down a little bit.”

“Maybe I want to keep an open mind. I can’t afford to be picky.”

“Everyone needs to be a little picky, or they’ll end up getting stuck on dates with a lot of real losers. Trust me, I’m practically an expert.”

I had to agree with her there. “Um, then add tidy to the list. I’m so sloppy that I need someone who’s willing to do things like make the bed.”

“That really narrows it down,” Erica laughed. “Okay, hold on, I’m going to look up some stuff. I’ll be right back.”

I could hear the phone dropping onto her bed, followed by a long, drawn-out silence. I’d originally thought that she would only take a couple minutes, but the time count was slowly reaching ten minutes, and staring at the wall could only entertain me so much.

Just as I decided to pick up the book next to my bed to read, an autobiography of a Supreme Court judge that I had to finish before the start of school, Erica came back on the line. “Okay, hi, are you still there?”

“Yup.”

“I compared the looks and heights and body proportions of each of the guys you named, and Joe Jonas is definitely an outlier, but we’ll include him anyway.” I figured that would be the case. “So it looks like you definitely like some muscle tone, and Joe Jonas definitely has less than the other two, but he does have some. The most important thing I learned in this category is that way too many people like to Photoshop Joe Jonas’ head onto male models’ bodies.”

I let out a laugh and shook my head. “Okay, what next?”

“You definitely like dark hair, since all of them have some shade of dark hair, but it looks like you’re pretty open about eye color. And you like white guys, which is super weird to me.”

“Thanks.”

She didn’t seem to notice or care about my sarcasm as she continued her list. “The height is where I found the biggest difference between your current celebrity crushes and the blast from the past, since Tyler Hoechlin and Chris Evans are both six feet tall, while, according to my secret source, Joe Jonas is only five foot seven.”

I bit my lip as I mulled over all the information she’d just given me and felt my face flush as I came to a realization. Liam actually did fit into all of the appearance-related categories, and he was definitely nice, outgoing, and friendly, which were in my personality list. But I didn’t want to tell Erica that, since she would definitely push me to hit on him, and I wasn’t at all comfortable with that.

“So now you have a laundry list to go out and find your perfect man! But, just a small tip, don’t introduce him to your dad. Or your mom, actually.”

“Why not?” I questioned, my voice sounding a little more defensive than I intended.

“Whoa, sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound mean. I only say that because your dad is really tall, and he kind of has an intimidating personality. I mean, I know that he’s a nice guy now, but I used to be terrified of him.”

I opened my mouth to say something, probably to ask her why she’d never told me that, but she barely breathed before saying, “And I wouldn’t introduce a guy to your mom because she’s super hot, so you’ll either never hear the end of it, or he’ll want to bang her more than you. Or both.”

Again, I felt a little insulted, but I let the comment go. I was sure she wasn’t trying to say that I was dramatically less attractive than my mother or that every guy would want her more than me, but I couldn’t help but catch that sort of vibe.

“We’ll see,” was all I said in response, curling my legs underneath me. “But we’re getting a little carried away with this anyway. I’m telling you, nothing’s going to happen, and we’re going to feel like idiots when I come back.”

“No we’re not. Even if you don’t get a hookup there, you’ll at least know what to look for when you get to college. Because I’m pretty sure everyone gets at least one hookup their freshman year.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Whatever.” I heard her take a deep breath before regaining her cheerful disposition. “So things are going alright here, thanks for asking.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to ask!”

She laughed, letting me know that she was just kidding, and I joined in about a beat too late. “Anyway, Whitney and I went to see the 22 Jump Street movie, which I wasn’t completely on board with, but Whitney really loves Jonah Hill for whatever reason. I think it was okay. Better than the first one.”

I nodded. “So is it a must-see or a must-miss?”

“I’d say must-see, even if you see it just because you saw the first one and don’t want to quit before the end.”

“Sounds like good logic to me.” I glanced at the clock and sighed. “Alright, it’s getting pretty late there, so I’m going to get off the phone before your mom starts putting away your laundry to make sure you’re not talking to a boy.”

“Good plan. I’ll talk to you the night after tomorrow night?”

“Unless something awesome happens before then, which it probably won’t. Bye, Erica.”

“Bye!”

The line went dead, so I tossed my phone away and got to my feet. Right when I threw open my bedroom door, I could hear the television in the living room downstairs, accompanied by my parents’ voices. There didn’t seem to be any kind of tension in the air, and their voices sounded friendly, not even close to indicating an argument.

For a moment, I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to join in on the positive atmosphere, one of the very few times when they weren’t on the brink of war, but the other part didn’t want to ruin whatever kind of trance they were in that allowed them to act like a functioning couple again. Or friends, at the very least.

In the end, I decided to go down the stairs and get some frozen yogurt from the kitchen, going as quietly as I could so they didn’t notice. I settled down at the island in the center, watching the tub thaw so I could actually scoop it effectively, and listened to the murmured voices from The Colbert Report across the house.

By the time I got my chocolate chip frozen yogurt and doused it with chocolate syrup, my parents were no longer having a happy discussion, so I didn’t feel as guilty walking into the room and plopping down into one of the armchairs. I smiled a little when I saw that they were sitting on the couch, less than a foot apart from one another, but I didn’t want to make my happiness too obvious in case they decided to ask what was going on.

“Thanks for asking if I wanted any,” Mom joked, nodding to the bowl in my hand.

I grinned and put a spoonful of the dessert into my mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t think of it. I can get you some now, if you want.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s better I don’t, anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” I smiled at her and turned to the television. Since the show was in the middle of a segment, I didn’t really understand the punchline, but it only lasted a minute more before the subject changed.

“We can watch something else if you want to,” Dad informed me, already reaching for the remote control on the coffee table in front of him. “We just put this on because we didn’t know what else to watch and didn’t want to flip through every channel to find something.”

I just shrugged and took another bite of my dessert. I didn’t want to have to go through all the channels either, and I had no problem with The Colbert Report.

“Okay then,” Dad said, putting the remote back on the table and yawning. “I think I’m going to bed anyway. How are you not tired, Olivia?”

I could understand his confusion, since I’d gotten up before six the past three days. The blanket idea wasn’t working as well as I’d hoped, since the material was too light and thin to make too much of a difference, but at least I was getting a lot of running time out of it. “Um, I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll make up for it one of these days.”

Dad laughed and got to his feet. “Well, if you get up early and you decide to go for a run again, wake me up, and I’ll go with you.”

“Just don’t wake me up, too,” Mom warned seriously, but there was a comic sparkle in her eye.

“I won’t,” I promised. “I guess we’ll see in the morning. Goodnight, Dad.”

He repeated my goodnight and granted it to Mom before walking up the stairs, yawning once more.

Mom curled up into one side of the couch and ran a hand through her hair. “You know,” she voiced suddenly over a Crest toothpaste commercial, “I think I will have some frozen yogurt.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I granted, grinning and raising my spoon to her.