Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“It’s true, you’re basically a dude. But you’re still not
defective. I’m telling you, you just haven’t met the right one
yet.”
Sloane levels me with a look. “And I’m telling you, I can’t
fall in love.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not exaggerating. I’m literally incapable. My brain
doesn’t work that way. It’s like how you are with math. Quick,
answer this: what’s nine times twelve?”
After a moment of severe mental strain, I say, “Fine, so
you can’t fall in love.”
“You see? How depressing is that?”
“At least you can double a recipe. The last time I made
banana muffins, I had to call my mom to figure out how to
double two-thirds of a cup of flour.”
We share a companionable, depressed silence for a
moment, then Sloane brightens. “I know what we need right
now!”
“If you say ‘dick,’ I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
She ignores me. “Pizza. Nobody can be sad when they’re
gorging on a cheesy, meaty pizza pie.”
“That does sound pretty good.”
Examining my gloomy expression, she lifts her brows.
“Gee, don’t get too excited. Now who’s the emo clown?”
“I was just thinking…what if we end up as two crabby,
single old ladies, living together when we’re eighty, fighting
over the TV remote and shouting at the neighbor kids to stay
off the lawn? What if this whole love thing wasn’t meant to
work out for either one of us, and in the end…we’re each
other’s loves of our lives?”
She smiles warmly at me. “We are. But don’t worry, you’re
gonna ride off into the sunset with Mafia Romeo. That will
happen even if I have to threaten him with death myself.”