ONE
Hannah
I stare at my sister and shake my head as I watch her fingers move a mile a minute over the screen of her phone. “Who could you possibly be texting so much and so fast, Krys?” I ask.
Krys takes a quick peek over her phone at me before focusing on the screen of it again and ignoring me.
I grab the pint of butter pecan ice cream from counter and pad barefoot across her apartment to take a seat in my favorite recliner. Well, it’s not my recliner, it’s hers, but she knows that every time I visit (which is, like, every single day) that I go straight for this cushioned brown recliner and curl up with a blanket.
“I already told you who it is for, like, the millionth time,” she says after finally looking away from her screen. She sits up higher on the brown leather sofa and looks at me, finally giving me her undivided attention. “It’s Jacob, remember. I met him on the Match Me app a couple months ago. I swear he’s so amazing, Hannah,” she says with a dreamy sigh. “We went out for lunch yesterday and he was so romantic about it. He pulled out my chair for me, paid for the food, and then took me to get gelato afterward. We ate it on the back of his pickup truck and then made out in his pickup truck for like fifteen minutes. I swear I saw fireworks, sis.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like he’s just trying to get in those panties, sis.”
She rolls her eyes and leans back, texting rapidly again when her phone chimes. “It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Actually, no, Krys. What I do know is that when you meet a guy on a dating app like Match Me, he’s just trying to fuck. You haven’t slept with him, have you?”
“No,” she says begrudgingly, as if she’s hoping that will happen the next time they see each other. My sister is a promiscuous thing.
“Mm-hmm.” I dump a scoop of ice cream in my mouth, eat it, and then say, “that means he’s just waiting for you to give the green light and once he takes what he needs, he’ll probably change.”
“Sounds personal, sis. You sure something like that didn’t happen to you before? Been on any dating apps recently that let you down?” She peers at me over her phone.
“Not at all. Dating apps are for the insecure at heart.” I swallow hard after I say that. It’s such a bitter statement, I know. Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not for others to like, like my sister, Krys. “Anyway, what’s the point? I read about all these dating apps and about eighty-five percent of relationships end after only two or three months.”
“Yeah, well I like to focus on the fifteen percent of relationships that survive,” Krys says and for the first time since I got here, she tosses her phone on the sofa and trots to the kitchen. “Seriously, though, Hannah, you should just make an account. Put up a hot as fuck picture of yourself—but not too hot because you don’t want to look like an easy slut who just wants hookups—and the guys will come in quick. I bet you’d love it.”
“I bet I wouldn’t,” I counter, huffing a laugh.
Krys takes out a pasta salad she had earlier from the fridge and pops it into the microwave. “What if I help you set it up? Come on, Hannah! You don’t have to do it for a relationship! Maybe you can just get a hookup, you know? Get the cobwebs off your kitty cat and stop being so bitter for once.”
I laugh. “I am not bitter, Krys!”
“You can be and it’s probably because you haven’t had a man lick or stick that kitty in ages.”
I bust out in a laugh. “Oh my gosh, you sound ridiculous, Krys! Lick or stick my kitty? Who even says that?”
“Oh, I know!” she exclaims, half-bouncing on her toes and ignoring my last question. “What if we make a bet? You sign up for a Match Me account and chat with a few guys. Maybe even meet them if you’re up for it. If you don’t like your experience after a few weeks, you can delete it and I’ll let you come over and raid my fridge all you want, and I’ll never speak a word of your lonely, dusty kitty again.”
I snort. “Um, I already come to raid your fridge without problems. Nice try though.”
“But if you do like it,” she goes on, ignoring my remark, “you have to stop making your smart-ass comments about dating apps and you have to buy me dinner every night for a month!”
“What? How is that fair that if I win, I already get something I already have, but if you win you get fresh food?”
“Well, if you win, then dinners and desserts are on me for a month! How about that? Come on, I dare you.”
“Tempting,” I say, pretending to think on it. I stand with my ice cream and take it to the kitchen. “Okay, fine. It’s a deal.” We shake hands and Krys gives me a shit-eating grin. There’s something I don’t like about that smile. It’s almost like she knows something I don’t.
I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I know who I am and what I like, and I know for a fact that a dating app that could lead to a few hookups won’t result in me being the happiest woman on earth.
But we’ll see. One should never say never.
TWO
Hannah
“Ugh. Why am I even doing this?”
I roll over in my bed and puff my cheeks. After trying to fall asleep and failing miserably because of the idea of Krys and her bet consuming me, I grab my cellphone and bite the bullet.
I go to my app store and download the Match Me app. When it’s finished downloading, I open it and do a small chuckle as I create an account. It’s so silly, I swear. I bet nothing much will come of this.
I only put my first name and as for my username, I want something that’ll show whomever is interested in me that I am a curvy goddess. If they don’t like that, they can swipe on by.
I decide to go with the username SassyCurvyGirl.
I write up a simple biography for my profile and upload a photo that was taken of me by Krys with my Ragdoll cat, Misha, on Fourth of July. Speaking of Misha, she’s sitting on my nightstand, staring at me right now.
“I know. It’s crazy, right?” I sit up to rest my back against the headboard as Misha jumps on the bed and purrs. “It’s just a waste of time, but I want to win this bet. Krys will see.”
Misha does a small meow and then turns away from me, flapping her tail along the way like whatever I’m talking about is a complete waste of her time. She’s such a bitchy little cat but somehow, we get along just fine.
I send my profile link in a text to Krys as proof that I’ve created an account and that our bet is on, then I scroll through the app.
There are instructions that as you swipe through images of men or women in your area, you can put a purple heart emoji under their picture if you’re interested in them. In return, the person gets the heart and if they like what they see from you and your profile, they’ll return the purple heart which soon converts to the start of a chat on the app.
I refuse to be the desperate broad who goes out handing purple hearts to just anyone, so I swipe thorough many pictures, rolling my eyes at some of the dumb jock guys who can’t even spell correctly in their bios. I swear there are a bunch of juvenile men on here.