“You know, Calliope, I have been trying to set my brother up with someone for years now,” my best friend, Heather, explains, looking up from her pen and paper.

“So?” I mutter, leaning over her shoulder to look at her notes.

**_‘Asher and…

Aubrey? Eloise? Kennedy? Paris? Delilah? Macie? Calliope…’

_**“Oh no. No, I can’t date Asher be— because…”

My heart beats like a drumroll before a life-changing announcement.

“Why can’t you? You’d be the perfect match, and it wouldn’t actually be all that terrible.”

What could I say? What if I…

“I have a boyfriend,” I state before I realize it.

Heather turns around dramatically. She looks me in the eye, trying to determine whether or not I’m lying.

I don’t flinch.

“Who?” She asks, her somber tone apparent.

My heart sinks. Heather must be upset because I didn’t tell her…

But who do I say? The first name I can think of…

“Boston.”

She lifts her eyebrows, excitement appearing in her blue eyes.

“Really? He’s so nice and hot at the same time!!”

I nod, ecstatic.

_I just lied. To Heather! _ ——————————————

“Boston, I need your help,” I explain to the 6’0” violinist.

He shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face.

“If this is about dating, I’m afraid to say, you’re not my type, Callie,” Boston taunts.

“Who said anything about dating?”

“A lot of girls have been asking me out recently, and… you don’t seem to be denying it,” he adds.

I grin right back.

“You’re telling me that girls have willingly asked you out? The school’s nerdiest musician?”

“Music is a very attractive subject to major in, you know.”

“Sure, sure…” I say, sarcasm laced in my voice.

“What is it you wanted again?” Boston asserts.

“So, you know how good of friends we used to be before we both became a little distant? I was wondering if we could be closer friends… like fake-dating…?”

His eyes widen in a questioning stare.

“Heather’s trying to set me up with her older brother,” I explain, “and I kind of had a crush on him when I was younger. I still do, technically.”

“So why don’t you date him? Why don’t you let Heather set you two up?” Boston remarks, lowering his head to mine, “Is this a trick?”

A heavy blush spreads across my cheeks. “No. No, no, no,” I continue hurriedly, “I know that I’m not Asher’s type, and I need to get over him because he’s just…” I pause, feeling Boston’s breath tickle my face.

My breath hitches.

“Can you go back to being sweet? I’m—”

He chuckles.

“Sweet?”

Boston pulls back, his face still alight with a grin.

“If we’re going to fake-date, you need to be aware that I like to flirt.”

I smile.

“So, you’ll do it? On what conditions?”

“Who said I’d have conditions?”

His hand brushes mine.

“Oh? So, you don’t?”

“Actually, now that I think about it…”

“What?”

I stare at him expectantly.

“You have to attend my concerts,” he mentions.

“Okay,” I acknowledge, “also, would you be good with a double date tomorrow night?”

Boston nods. ——————————————

“Hey, Callieeee…?” Heather drawls through the phone.

I brush through my bright blonde hair, swapping the phone to my other ear.

“What is it, Heather?”

“Can Asher and his date join us at the movies? Asher’s been wanting to see it forever, and I’m so happy the girl I chose for him worked out. Please?” Heather blurts.

Oh no…

I tried. You should know that but nobody else. I did as you demanded.

“Ummmm… hi.”

“Hi there!”

Introverted Jess was standing at a table with some random dude her best friend Bella had just set her up with. Bella told her to go to the fancy restaurant in the centre of the city for a girls night out but instead here she was with Sebastian. Boring Sebastian.

Sebastian was sitting at the table Bella was supposed to be at so naturally Jess was confused.

“I think you’ve got the wrong table.”

“No this is my table and you are my date.”

“WHAT!?!”

“Didn’t Ms Capelo tell you?”

“Curse you Bella!” Jess whispered under her breath.

“So take a seat pretty lady!”

“No thanks!” Jess ran out of the restaurant without another word. Bella was going to pay.

Jessica was sitting at one of the most awkward dinners she had ever been at. She sat across the table from Dean, who was equally as uncomfortable.

Their oblivious mutual friend sat at the end of the table, chatting away. Diane was trying to set them up, saying that they would just be so cute together, yada yada.

It might have been a good idea, but Diane didn’t know that Jessica and Dean were sworn enemies. The only reason Jessica knew that it was him was because of his brilliant blue eyes. She would know those anywhere. She had been pinned down by their icy stare many times.

Somehow he had recognized her as well, she just wasn’t exactly sure how. But she supposed, they had fought for enough years to recognize how the other moved and flowed through life.

Just last week, Jessica had been forced to watch Dean dance his way around her booby traps that she had set at the bank for him, hoping to catch him so that she could finally get away with the money. But of course, she had failed, and he had trapped her underneath his stare once more.

Diane was so oblivious. She and Jessica had been roommates in college, and she had said that she and Dean were neighbors. If she knew both of them as well as she thought she did, how did she not realize how awkward they were feeling? It was torture to act like everything was fine.

But that gave Jessica an idea. She reached across the table to place her hand on Dean’s. He couldn’t pull away and alert Diane to his aversion of Jessica. She turned on her charm and started flirting with him, flashing him a wicked smile. She loved torturing her enemy in the most inventive ways. She just didn’t realize being trapped by social manners would be his downfall.

Diane noticed her sudden interest with Dean and offered to switch seats with Jessica, an offer that she gladly took. They had finished their dinner and we’re just talking by that point, so it was easy to move seats.

She saw Dean flinch as she scooted closer to him, which she relished. He tried leaning away from her, but forced himself to sit up straight before Diane noticed. He swallowed, and his hand managed to slip under the table onto Jessica’s leg. She assumed it was for Diane’s benefit, but it surprised her. She didn’t realize little Dean would have the guts to do something like that.

She did not like having to be in physical contact with her mortal enemy for so long, but she assumed that it was worse for him. He was the hero everyone adored, he had more morals than she did.

By the time they left the restaurant, Jessica’s leg was resting over Dean’s thigh and his arm was around her shoulders. She didn’t care if anyone in the restaurant thought it improper, she could just kidnap them later or something. But Diane was loving it. She forced them to give the other their phone number.

Diane practically pouted when the “couple” left the restaurant separately. She was surely expecting them to have a proper date afterwards, but Jessica was ready to wash the touch of the goody two shoes off of her. She was also happy to stick him with the check.

She promised Diane that she would keep her updated on her “relationship” before she left, which consoled her a little. Jessica couldn’t wait to use Dean’s number for all sorts of nefarious plots in the upcoming weeks. She did find herself wondering what he was thinking throughout the dinner though, and if he had been as repulsed as she had.

“I guess he’s kinda cute.” My friend whispered. He was… except his nose was a little bruised and so was his eye. What can I say he put up a fight. “I just can’t believe you kidnapped him…again” She sighed.

I grinned as he woke up. “I swear this is the third time this month!” He shouted. My friend looked at him sympathetically.

“I really am sorry.” She said and he looked at her like he did every time he saw her. With a slight smile on his face and a glint in his eyes.

“Okay… so, don’t make a big deal over it, but… I finally have a crush!” Giselle confessed.

“Seriously!” I said, clapping wildly. “Tell me who, tell me who!”

“Viv! Please don’t tell anyone!” Giselle begged, and I slumped. But I gave her a small nod. “Okay… well, I met him in band. Let me see if I can spot him…” She looks around the cafeteria and finally spots a dark-haired boy on the shorter side with wild blue eyes. “That’s him!”

I froze. I blinked, and again. Gulping, I shakily responded. “That’s… Carter.”

Giselle furrowed her eyebrows together. “You know him?”

Yes, I know him! I’ve had the biggest crush on him since I met him in gifted class last year! But I wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Barely. He’s in my home room,” I said, somewhat nonchalantly.

“You look… almost mad. Vivian, what’s going on?” Giselle asked.

I try to contain some of my emotions feebly. “Nothing’s going on.” My voice was super high pitched. She’s going to know something’s up.

“Viv, I know you! You can’t hide things from me!” Giselle pushed, grasping my hand.

I sighed. “Fine, I… I might’ve had a teensy crush on him in, like, third grade. Okay? Not that big of a deal.”

Giselle frowned. “But I’ve never seen him before. I don’t think he went to our school.”

I hesitated, having not thought that through. “Uhh, I met him in gifted…?” I replied slowly, grasping at really thin straws.

Giselle pursed her lips. “Nice try. You tried out for gifted in third grade and missed by one question. You finally made it in last year.” She squinted her eyes in thought. “I know exactly what’s going on.” Her voice is cold and distant. “You like him, don’t you.”

I wasn’t even going to try to deny it. “Look, Giselle, you’re my best friend, and isn’t everyone saying best-“

Giselle shakes her head. “Forget it, Viv.” She picks up her tray and carries it to a different table, not even looking back.

(I didn’t really follow the prompt, but this is kind of something that happened to me and my friend Kathryn! But she didn’t walk away from my table, she claimed she didn’t care! What a good friend!)

“Hey your sister is cute, is she taken? Not for me, but I think I know this guy who would be just perfect for her…”

“Um.. actually she is. Geez, I hope this guy you wanna match her up with ain’t too better than me..”

“What?”

“..She’s my girlfriend.”

The matchmaker-to-be recoiled in horror.

“What!?!?!? Oh sh*t, look I’m really sorry.. it’s just that..I overheard you two talking about being twins and all, I thought she was your twin sister…”

“Oh. Well. Humph. Hah.”

“…What are you giggling about?

“Sorry.. I must say that was a first.. Sht, that’s actually fckin’ hilarious.”

“What..? Why?”

“Oh.. there they are..”

“Bro. I just bumped into Jasmine.”

“Bro, thanks for giving her a hand with the coffees. Hey welcome back sweetie.”

The wannabe-matchmaker widened his eyes as he saw three people approach them – a guy with a cardboard tray of coffees who looked identical to the guy the hopeless-matchmaker had spoken to and two girls who looked identical to each other.

The epically-failed-matchmaker stammered; “W..what? Hang on.. Oh my god..”

“So ya see, Jas and I were talking about being twins.. just not to each other.”

“I.. I get it now. Look, I’m really sorry..!”

The very embarrassed matchmaker quickly walked away.

“Aidan, bro, what was all that about?”

“Brian, bro, that guy thought we were twins.”

“Huh? We are.”

Aidan chuckled and pecked Jasmine on her cheek as he handed her a coffee cup.

“No, I meant, US. I know we are, Brian.”

“Oh,” Angie teased, the tops of her pointed elven ears quivering. “stop being so bitter,” “I’m not bitter. I’m simply stating the facts.”

A loud cheer erupted from somewhere within the Inn, a joyous sound that shook the tables and raised patrons cups, golden liquid sloshing up and spilling onto the sticky wooden floor. A giant hearth blazed at the edge of the establishment, the crackling fire filling the room with a deep, orange glow and the smell of tangy smoke.

Angie leant across the pub table, the laced cuffs of her dress catching on the splintered wood. She grinned. “Do you know what you need?” “Don’t say—” “—A lover,” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms tight over my chest. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” “Like what?” “Like you have a mouthful of honey. Like if I find someone, all my prayers will be answered. Like if—” “Alright,” She cut in, dragging out the word, ”I get. But if there was someone you could have a little fun with, maybe they could help. Like... them!” She gestured to the corner of the Inn where someone sat hunched, a hooded cloak over their head, a book and tankard in their hand. “They look like they need a little fun. Maybe you two could do that fun together.” “I’m not doing,”—I brought both of my hands up to form air quotes—“‘Fun’ with a complete stranger!” Angie lifted her chin, her yellow eyes glinting as she looked at something over my shoulder. “Or how about Luke?” My stomach twisted, and I laughed. “You’re joking?” “What’s wrong with Luke?” “What’s—!”

“What you cool cats chattering about?” A large tankard slammed on the table, and Luke slid in beside me on the bench, his shoulder bumping mine, the tip of his twisting antlers just missing my eye. I gave Angie a pointed look, but she grinned and rested her chin on her hands. “Cool cats? Really?” Luke shrugged. “I don't know, the guy by the bar said it earlier,” He shrugged again, took a sip from his cup and grimaced, a pink tinge working its way onto his tawny skin. “He seemed cool enough. He even brought me this drink. Should I not say it again?” “No,” Angie said.

I peered into Luke’s cup; the dark liquid swirled, sparkling slightly under the glow from the oil lamps. I coughed and slapped my hand over my nose. “It reeks! Who brought you a drink?” Luke waved a hand. “Guy with the green hat,” “Maybe he could buy YOU a drink, LJ”, Angie said, “and then—” I shushed her. “Wait, what are you doing?” Luke asked. “Trying to find LJ a lover,” “Oh.” He nodded, the pink tinge returning to his cheeks. “Really?”

A throng of people clustered in front of the bar at the back of the Inn,
A man sat on one of the furthest stalls, a leaf-green bowler hat perched on the top of a cluster of black curls. He smirked, his lips sharp, and brought a boney pale hand to the edge of his hat, touching what looked like a deep purple-blue flower, then vanished, disappearing into the crowd. My breath caught. An aconite flower. No!

Angie touched my arm, and I withdrew my fingernails from the depts of the table. “LJ, what’s wrong?” “How much of that drink have you had?” I asked Luke. He studied the cup. “Not much. A sip. It's quite revolting.” Okay, I thought, if it were poisoned, a sip wouldn't be enough to kill... hopefully. I stood. “We have to go,” “What, why?” Angie whined, “I was just about to ask that girl over there if she wanted to be your friend,” “He’s here,” I said. The floor swam, and I steadied myself against the table. “He’s, he’s somehow changed his face again,” “LJ—” “No, Angie!” I grabbed Luke’s hand and pulled him up, “That man with the green hat had an aconite flower on it. It’s him! So we have to go!” Luke’s mouth opened. “I swear I didn't see the flower. LJ, I swear.” “I know. Angie?” I held out my hand, and Angie took it, her palm cold and clammy. “How did he find us?” She whispered. “I don’t know,” My eyes scanned the Inn; the cloaked figure from the corner had gone, nothing but the tankard left on the table. “I don’t know.” “I suppose finding you someone is off the table?” Angie said weakly.

Tightening my grip on both Angie and Luke, I whispered the Old Words, and the Inn vanished from around us, replaced with somewhere new.

“Nope” I said. Eve looked at me desperately. “Please Mari? Harry is a great guy!” “Uh huh” I said. I don’t even bother with these blind dates anymore! Evelenne or as everyone called her, Eve, was always matching me up with stupid people! The first guy was a literal CLOWN! Now she wants to match me up with Harry Seamister. He really sounds weird. But, I’ll go with him for Eve….

“Hi.” Says Harry as we meet outside “The Greek Giant” “Hello” I say with a soft smile. I’m looking at my shoes as I always do on blind dates. Finally, I look up. “My name is Marigold Sadie Bends.” “Harry Zach Seamister, pleasure.”

We eventually(after 10 minutes of awkward silence) order. “I’ll have the pasta salad with Greek salad on the side please. Oh and a medium Coke.” I stare at him for a second. “I’ll take what he’s having.” I say quietly. Harry had just ordered the same thing I ALWAYS get. Maybe this won’t be terrible…………..

The sign above the cafe had seen many storms but weathered and washed it still stood with its faded neon letters: Auntie A.’s Classical Greek Diner. And classic it was with each stool at the bar resembling a Doric, Ionic or Corinthian pillar all topped with a velvety, light blue cushion. The tables were heavy like strong decks of triremes, their chairs with backs in half circles like ships’ wheels. Most cosy of all were the booths along the walls, their dusty rose pink cushions were half-enveloped with a scalloped seashell that glistened like an opal in the moon. In the very center of the restaurant bubbled a long stretched aquarium with fish that swam like confetti at a ticker tape parade. Auntie’s A.’s had been the cool place to go for generations there in that town in the Midwest. No one really knew how old it’s proprietoress was, but she had given the place its name and everyone loved Auntie A. and her son. Nobody knew his real name either, but his nickname had become Lover Boy with his dark curly hair and deep chocolate passionate eyes. All the girls swooned over him and even the men when he winked at them felt a pitter-patter in their chest. No one wondered, strangely enough, why the two of them had never grown older since they opened in the Summer of Love 1968. No one really cared, the food was great and there was no better place to go on a date in a five county radius.

On the wall above the cash register was a small museum of pictures. Auntie A. always kept photos of those who had met there and sealed their lives together. She always floated through her tavern, her sea blue eyes seeing what those flushed cheeks of the patrons told about their hearts. When she saw the blush of enduring love she made sure that her moussaka was herbed just right with crushed Pragma leaves, they made the most perfect balance of the five flavors, of bitter, salty, sour, bland and sweet. Still to that day every Saturday at 5 p.m. Theodore and Barbara came in for their moussaka like they had for 52 years. Their dinner was so early because they were only allowed to drive in daylight. She knew as she brought their plates and put her hands on each of their shoulders that they only had a few more evenings together left. She knew then she would have to place a black ribbon across their photo hanging in the center of all the others.

Sometimes singles came in for a bite to eat, their hearts a bit empty, their libido a bit full. It was so easy to ask each of the soon to be one-night-stand pair if they could share a table or a booth because the wait list was so long. She always offered her oysters with a pinch of Ludus. Often they would return the next morning hungry for her feta and black olive omelette. Mostly the night before was also enough to lift their hearts and empty their libidos so they concentrate on their daily lives again

Even the town’s Catholic priest (whose faith she never quite understood except that it had also something to do with love) came for his kolokythokeftedes with a slight sprinkling of Agape to go with the dill and the mint. She made sure her son never waited on him after the time the priest’s eyes began to sparkle and flame when her son turned in his apron to walk away. Father O’Connor’s Adam’s apple heaved up and down three times as he stared at the wave of her son’s aft rising and falling in his tight denim pants. She then offered him another delight of honey packed sticky baklava.

Although, it was never easy making the right matches for long love or just a night to satisfy the thirst of lust, she did it because she cherished every one of them. They, too, held her dear. But everyone was careful not to be smitten by her son.