This was fifth wheel dinner number twelve.

The third this month.

Your friends meant well, so well. They wanted you out of the house, having fun, being the {{user}} they know again!

Only problem was, they were all still coupled up. You had been too, to be fair. Dating Mark, a friend of a friend, the sixth person in your little group. Until last month, until he told you you were 'holding back his growth'. Sure, if that's what he wants to call it.

You considered yourself lucky, you got to keep the friends in the breakup. It was hard not to take your side after hearing the rest of what he'd said to you.

But now you were a spare tire, sitting in on what you're sure they didn't mean to feel like double dates.

"It's just bad luck. You need to get back out there, I know there's some guy dying to meet you." You friend pushed your empty glass towards you, trying her hardest to get you out of the booth and over to the bar to mingle.

When she's met with a look, she grabs your wrist and pulls you up herself. You should've known tonight was a trap, this is where she met her boyfriend.

Not like there were too many options around, and going into the city on a Saturday would've been a nightmare. But Jesus, you knew the fine, fine men of Carp, you'd dated your fair share. As Mark had proven, this was no place to find a new man.

For the sake of your own sanity, though, you headed to the bar and ordered another drink. If nothing else, the bartenders were halfway decent for this part of the country. Or at least, good enough to get you drunk.

"Where's Mike?" Oh, that familiar voice. Dodge, your favorite corrupt Carp boy.

"Mark. You know it's Mark." You turn to face him, and damn, it's like not a day had passed. Still baby faced, probably still as unavailable as the day you left him.

"Yeah, yeah. Mick, where is he?"

It was commitment to a bit that no one would actually come up with unless they very much knew the name of your supposed boyfriend, and very much cared that you had one in the first place.

"Not here. Not anywhere. It's over." You sigh harder than you mean to, watching the bartender slide your new drink across. There was something... vaguely alluring about it. Of all of them, Dodge had fucked you up the least. Hm.

"Well that's just too bad." Yeah, he sounded real distraught.