I sign in and start swapping yes or no right away. I swipe no on the first girl I see, then the next, and the one after that.
Chapter Thirteen
Kennedy
Ishould be asleep–it’s Thursday night, or I guess, technically, it's Friday morning. But here I am in bed, scrolling through Will’s social media. I had to re-download the app to my phone just so I could look at his account. I deleted all my social medias from my phone during the whole Carter thing, and until now, haven’t had the urge to use them again.
I click on his story button: It’s from this afternoon, before the hockey game. He’s geared up in the locker room with Logan, Liam, and Adrian. There’s a caption that says, “last first game with my boys.” I don’t realize I’m grinning until several seconds later, but I can’t help it, he looks adorable in that picture. His caption makes me feel a little bitter-sweet for Will–tonight’s game was probably his last first game ever now that he’s quitting the league.
Indignation creeps back in as I think about how he pretty much ruined our night insinuating that I’m attracted to assholes like Carter. He went low with that one. Hewasbeing an ass, but I think I might have over reacted just a bit. At first I wanted him to know how annoyed and mad at him I was, but then I just feltstupid and embarrassed. Now, I feel guilty and mad and stupid all at once and I have no idea how or what to say to him.
The kiss is definitely causing me to over analyze everything. And on top of it all, I didn’t go to his game tonight. Miranda invited me and I came up with some excuse like I usually do, but I just couldn’t get myself to go. I can’t bear to see Carter for five seconds at Serendipity, I have no idea how I’m supposed to be able to last through an entire game, even if I’m there for Will. What if Carter tries to talk to me? Or worse, what if he does what he used to do when we were together, and point at me after every goal. No thanks.
I close out of social media and I stare at my stupid list, feeling lame and sorry for myself after my failed attempt at crossing offDancing at SixtyForty. I pull up my text thread with Tyler and debate inviting him over. But it's late and firmly in bootycall territory and the truth is I really only want Will.
Tyler texted me that night after we went dancing, but we haven't exchanged more than a few messages. Will's right, Tyler does give off major asshole vibes. And truthfully, I was never going to go out with him to begin with. I only texted him back because I was mad at Will.
I close my text thread with Tyler, delete it, and then block him while feeling sorry for myself and anxious about how things played out with Will. We still haven't talked.
In my weakest moments, moments when I need external affirmation, I re-download the app with the reputation for casual hookups and make a profile. I know it's horrible, but I match with some hot guys, flirt over text and feel good about myself, then delete the profile in the morning, never to be looked at again…until I find myself desperate for some compliments. I’ve never told anyone about this before, it's my dirty little pathetic secret. But right now, I’m feeling confused and guiltyand want to be told how beautiful I am, even if it's fake flattery designed to get in my pants.
I upload pictures of myself that showcase my face and body without feeling like I’m revealing too much. I’m going for a delicate balance of hot, but not too hot. I want compliments, but I don’t want guys to feel like they have permission to say disgusting things to me. I don’t include any bikini pictures as those always feel a little too close to the pictures that were leaked of me.
She’s not nearly as hot as she thinks she is.
Butterface.
Her tits are slightly uneven. You can tell in the second picture that the left one is a lil bigger.
Am I the only one that thinks she looks kind of fake??
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. No one is going to DM me mean messages on a dating app, I try to reason with myself as the comments swirl through my mind.I’m fine.
It takes only about 10 minutes before my profile is live once more and I’m swiping yes or no on guys. I match with a few guys immediately, sending dopamine straight through my chest.
I match with a very good looking soccer player and then an engineering major, both have Bramwood listed in their bios.
Just as the thrill of matching wears off and the vice inside my chest tightens to the point of pain, I swipe one more time, then freeze, thumb hovering over his face, unsure how to proceed. I pull my phone screen closer to my face and take in his first picture.It's Will.It's of him in Bramwood hockey gear, sweaty after a game, smiling, his brown hair sticking to his forehead, helmet resting between his hip and arm. He looks sexy.
In all the secret moments of swiping through this app, I’ve never seen Will’s profile. I was pretty sure he didn’t use ahook up app at all. He’s hot enough that I assumed he didn’t need the help of a hook up app to find girls interested in him.
I click on his profile, careful not to actually swipe left or right. This is just for research. Obviously.
My heart pounds as I scroll through the rest of his pictures: him at the pool shirtless, him holding a fish, him sitting on a bench, him water skiing behind a boat, and lastly him in my kitchen at my apartment wearing my apron and holding a tray of cookies.
I took that picture of him last month while watchingBachelor in Paradise!
Seeing Will’s profile like this gives me a forbidden thrill. I feel like I’m seeing part of him I’m not supposed to. Like I’m peeking through my fingers at a surprise or something. I’m seeing how he portrays himself to girls he’s trying to attract; portraying himself as the athletic and charming guy who skis and bakes. The guy I could take home to my parents and they would say, “He is such a sweetheart.”
After the pictures I go to his bio:
Will, 22
Senior at Bramwood University. Number 27 on the hockey team.
Tell me your most embarrassing story and I’ll tell you mine. Dinner is on me if your embarrassing story wins.
If he were not Miranda’s brother I’d definitely swipe right on him. But he is Miranda’s brother, and he’s one of my best friends. I can’t swipe right. I shouldn’t. Right?
