Laura was not going to be happy.
Pushing myself up in bed and wincing slightly at the brilliant summer sun already pouring through my lacklustre curtains, I opened each of the other chats to see what we were working with.
Dan
Heyyy beautiful
Jason
How are you?
Tom
Dtf?
I winced, the prickle of distaste bitter in my mouth. Dear God, no wonder half of this city was single. Talking to these men was worse than watching paint dry.
After shooting off the most basic reply to each of them – and in Tom’s case a quick unmatch, because even if I was down to fuck, I certainly wouldn’t with someone who couldn’t at least write in full sentences – my shoulders loosened as I opened my most recent chat.
And … he hadn’t replied. My last message glared back at me brightly on the screen.
Jessy
So you’re just looking for a hook-up? I could get down with that
That was fine. Maybe he’d been distracted before he could respond.
Or maybe this was just a good old-fashioned case of ghosting. Embarrassment threatened to heat my face at the thought.
Groaning as I pulled myself out of bed, I waited for my housemate to be done in the bathroom, then stood in the barely warm shower.
Once I was out, I got another inane message from a guy whose profile picture was him topless, wearing sunglasses, playing golf. I rolled my eyes. Of course it was.
But I had been neglecting my other matches, and I felt guilty – Laura had worked so hard on this app, and she needed my support. So I got over the cringe and chatted with the wannabe golfer as I popped my earrings in and wondered if I had time for breakfast before heading out.
Saturday
The Butterflies ping filled the small room, and I looked to see if it was – no. Still not Paddy.
‘And who, precisely,’ my sister asked sweetly, ‘is messaging you?’
I almost dropped my phone on my pizza – a terrible waste of both food and phone. ‘No one.’ No one interesting, anyway.
‘It’s not no one!’ Laura paused the TV and stared through her glasses, half incredulous, half delighted. ‘Who is it?’
‘Just pressplay. I’ve been looking forward to watching the new episode all day.’
That was true. The latest episode ofTemptation Hotelhad dropped, and Laura and I had a long-standing tradition of watching it together – Anna too, but her appearances had been growing rarer and rarer lately, now work was so busy. It was the kind of reality TV that left you a little dumber than when you first started it, but there was something so addictive about watching other people’s love lives implode.
But Laura was like a hound. ‘I’m not hitting play until you tell me who –’
Ping. Ping. Ping.
My twin had the biggest grin on her face. ‘You’re messaging a guy on Butterflies, aren’t you?’
‘No.’
It was a stupid lie.
