“Who, Joey? Why?”
I flag down a cab. “Because I think I figured out who this girl is that ghosted me, and he’ll be able to confirm it without breaking your privacy rules.”
“Hey, look … I’m sorry she ghosted you, man. Truly, I am. I feel responsible for you feeling like this, but going to my friend’s bar? Isn’t that a little bit too far? I mean, have you gone a little crazy on me since you ended it with your ex?”
I open the cab door and hold up my finger to the driver, asking him to hold on. “I’m pretty sure I just spent the last few days with the girl from the app, except we were on a trip as coworkers. Oh, and yeah, I totally hooked up with her, by the way, on said trip. I think she figured out who I was on the app before we left, so that’s why she ghosted me. Now, can I please have the name of his bar?”
“Oh shit. Seriously? Okay, fine, yeah. It’s Slim’s, down in SoHo.”
“SoHo. Of course. Thanks.”
I hang up and tell the driver exactly where to go, praying Joey’s working tonight.
We pull up outside the place, and I pay the man as quickly as possible, then climb out of the car. My stride is fast, and I’m determined to finally calm my mind and solve who this mystery girl really is.
I enter the venue and see him standing behind the bar, pouring a beer from the tap. My heart pounds with every step I take, really not sure what to do if what I’m thinking is true.
“What’s up, man? What can I get you?” Joey asks, obviously not remembering who I am.
“Hey, I’m David. You’re Joey, right? You helped Donny create that blind-dating app?”
He snaps his fingers and points at me. “Oh yeah, you helped us with the design. I remember you. Good to see you. What can I get you?”
I step closer to the bar, leaning in when I ask, “I was hoping you could help me with something. You see, I was matched with a girl who said she knew you through your sister I think she said. Her name was Jenelle. Do you know her?”
He shakes his head slowly, like he’s in thought. “No, sorry. I don’t know a Jenelle. My sister has a lot of random friends, but Jenelle isn’t ringing a bell.”
I close my eyes, not wanting to ask the next question, but knowing I need to. After I let out a breath, I ask, “Then do you know someone named Zoe?”
He gestures behind me. “Yeah. You mean Zoe, who’s over there?”
I turn, and there she is, sitting with a group of girls.
I purse my lips and nod my head sternly, tapping the bar twice. “Thanks, man.”
With every step I take toward her, I get more upset.
How long did she know?
Was she playing me the entire time?
Have I been completely fooled again?
She and her friends don’t notice me approaching them, so when I get close enough to where she can hear me, all I say is, “How long did you know it was me?”
Her eyes meet mine, and I can tell she’s been crying, but right this second, I’m too confused to care.
She jumps out of her chair and races toward me. “David, let me explain.”
She places her hands on my chest, but I push them away.
“Just answer my question. When did you figure out it was me on the app?”
A girl jumps up, trying to defend Zoe. “She’s been a mess since she realized it was you. We were literally all sitting here, trying to figure out how she could tell you.”
I take my attention from the girl back to Zoe, who has her arms crossed over her body and tears streaming down her face. The sight breaks me in two, but I try to stand my ground. As of right now, all I do know is she lied to me for a few days at least—two days that were probably the most important in building our relationship.
If this is true and she knew who I was, then the very start of us was a lie.
