a/n, before we kick things off: the title of this story is some lyrics from the song "Luv Addict" by Family Force 5 :) Yeah, so I don't own it. I just thought it sounded catchy.

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“There’s a speed-dating event set up for Saturday night at Junior’s—d’you wanna go?” I ask Rick, my brother, praying for an affirmative response. Instead, I get a soft moan of protest.

“You always go to those damn things, Dustin, and you always come back without anyone.”

“No, there was that one time—"

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. There was that one time when you found a girl you ‘loved,’ brought her back to the house, tried to sleep with her, and then you ended up handcuffed to the bed while she stole your wallet and most of the food in the house. You pulled a regular George Costanza there, kid.”

“That was just one time!” I insist. “That’s never happened again! I’ve been careful, Rick.”

“Sure, Dustin.”

“Jackass.”

“Oh, thanks. Listen, just go yourself, and if it gets so horrible that I have to come save you, then give me a call. But otherwise, leave me out of it. I really don’t think Sarah would like the idea of me going out speed-dating with my brother, anyway.”

Oh yeah. Sarah. “You guys are married,” I reason, “she’ll understand. She knows you won’t cheat on her. I mean, she knows about it, right?”

“Anuptaphobia really isn’t something that comes up in conversation, Dustin.”

“You could make it come up in conversation.”

“Not really.”

“You definitely could.”

“How?”

“Um…Well, try this: ‘Hey, Sarah, just to let you know, my super-amazing younger brother, Dustin, who rules over me without question, has this thing called anuptaphobia, and it means he’s afraid of being single forever, so sometimes I have to go out and y’know, help him find a date. You okay with that? Cool.’ That doesn’t sound so bad, right?”

I can’t tell for sure, but I’m pretty sure that Rick was rolling his eyes just then.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll talk to her about it. But you need to go by yourself on Saturday. Make sure you take your meds before you go, though, yeah?”

“What are you, my mom?”

“Might as well be.”

I grab my bottle of medication and shake it up close against the receiver. “I have ‘em right here,” I say slowly. “You hear ‘em?”

“Yeah, Dustin.”

“And I’m gonna bring ‘em on Saturday.”

“Yeah, Dustin. I already told you to do that.”

“I would’ve brought ‘em even if you didn’t tell me to.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. Have fun Saturday.” He hangs up.

I stare at the receiver, a little dismayed. Sighing, I uncap a red pen and circle the speed-dating advertisement. It’s always more fun to go with someone you know.

But hey, maybe I’ll meet her Saturday night.

---

“Look at this, Mel! Junior’s is having a speed-dating thing on Saturday! Have you ever been to one of those?”

I stare at my best friend, Carmen, uncertainly. “No.”

“We should go.”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“Mel! Why not?”

“You know why, Carmen!” I snap without meaning to. She looks hurt, so I quickly apologize. “I might,” my voice lowers drastically, “meet someone there.”

“That’s the whole point! This’d be the perfect thing to help you get over your gamo-whatever.”

“Gamophobia?”

She snaps her fingers at me. “Yeah, that’s it. It’d be so much fun, we can go together, and we can both meet ultra-cute guys and get married and be happy forever.” She catches my skeptical look and adds, “C’mon, Mel, at least give it a shot. It’ll be easier than trying medication.”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do! You do know, but you just won’t admit it!” Carmen grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard.

“What if I end up like my parents did?” I ask softly. My parents were involved in a pretty messy divorce case when I was seven. My dad beat my mom, who would beat my dad while he was sleeping. I never understood why she thought that was smart—it just woke him up so he could beat her some more. My dad lives somewhere on the west coast, California, I think, and my mom lives down the street. She shares the house with her two cats, who are on death’s door anyway, so she might as well be alone. All the psychiatrists I’ve been to so far have said that the issue with my parents is probably what spurred up my gamophobia. A wicked, wicked intense fear of marriage. They’ll scribble down fake notes in their stupid tiny notebooks, and then they’ll give me a prescription for some drugs that I can’t even pronounce, let alone inject into my body.

“You won’t end up like them,” Carmen assures me. “Your dad was the biggest jackass on the planet, so no one worse than him will be there on Saturday. And I mean, you can just take it slow, and meet a friend who’s a guy. You know, let fate run its course. Stuff like that.”

Maybe I’ll try. Just this one time. To make Carmen happy. But if it doesn’t work, there’s no way in hell I’m going back.

“Just this once,” I decide. Carmen squeals and throws her arms around me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re not gonna regret it, Mel, I swear to God,” she tells me, her words blending into each other. “This’ll be what’s gonna get you out of this gamo-thing, I know it!”

“Gamophobia?”

“Exactly!” She grabs a red pen, circles the Junior’s advertisement, and writes it on my calendar. “Well, I’ve gotta go; there’s a sale at Kohl’s that only lasts until seven.” I glance at my watch. It’s 6:45. “I’ll come pick you up at around six on Saturday, okay?”

I nod.

“See you then!”

As I watch Carmen’s black Camry peal out of the driveway, I still feel nervous about everything.

But hey. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I will meet him Saturday night.