I put my earbud back in, tapped my phone and pulled up my playlist again. The little nub of tension between my shoulder blades started to melt away as the latest track by These Exiles soared into my ears. I took another sip of my coffee and started to scroll the timeline. Now I knew Laura’s emergency was just her meddling, I could go back to doomscrolling through reactions to yesterday’s episode ofTemptation Hotel– the only romance in my near future.
Or at least, I would have, if Laura hadn’t chosen that moment to interrupt my scrolling with, ‘Considering I’m facing bankruptcy, the least you could do right now is actually listen to me.’
I almost spat out my coffee.
‘What? You said you wanted me to chat with random guys on your app – you didn’t say anything about money troubles.’ Panic raced through me, the taste of coffee bitter on my tongue.
Laura bit her lip, guilt written across her face. ‘Fine, not exactly bankruptcy – but it could happen if the investors pull out and the app dies. This is serious, Jessy. This is real life – adult life. If things don’t go well … they go badly.’
A few minutes’ difference, that was all it was – but the gap between our births had always been big enough for Laura to act like we were years apart.
She sighed, her top riding up a little at the sides and her suit trousers bunching around her hips as she pulled a vape out of her pocket. She took a long look at it and regretfully stuffed it away again. ‘God, I could really do with a smoke right now.’
That was when I knew something was really wrong. Laura had quit smoking last year, and, damn, hadn’t Anna and I heard about it. She didn’t turn to it unless she was really stressed, and I couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to resort to a nicotine hit.
Shit.
I paused the music and pulled my earbuds out. My stomach twisted as I pointed at her to sit. ‘Talk to me. Now.’
‘These investors, they’re great, but … but that review meeting I practised with you for? It didn’t go well.’ She pushed her glasses up her nose again. ‘Like, at all. They’re going to pull out by the end of the summer. I’ll have nothing, Jessy. Butterflies will just … die.’ Laura’s voice cracked. Heartbreak was written all over her face.
I hadn’t seen Laura this vulnerable in years.
It didn’t seem possible. Laura had dedicated everything she had to Butterflies. Hell, she was still living in this dump – mould on the walls, holey carpet, creepy landlord and all – because she’d found the cheapest, dingiest place to live and put every other penny into her app.
‘I don’t get it,’ I said, managing to find my voice in the silence as I pulled at my cardigan, tugging it closer around me. ‘I thought the app had thousands of downloads. Loads of people are using it.’ She’d told me so herself when we’d practised her review pitch – I’d colour-coded the pie chart.
‘Loads ofguysare using it,’ my twin said with a sigh, worry flickering over her face. ‘Tons of men are on there, andthey’re all waiting around because … Look, research shows that, on average, there’s a seventy–thirty men-to-women split on dating apps –’
I loved my sister, but it was difficult for my eyes not to glaze over when she started quoting figures. Hyper-fixating on numbers was her thing, not mine – and I was the one in finance. ‘Can we skip the statistics?’ I pleaded. ‘I spend all week looking at spreadsheets that I barely understand.’
But Laura was already on a roll: ‘– need an eleven per cent increase in female-instigated –’
‘Sis. Seriously?’ I could feel a headache building.
‘I’m just saying: men have a seventy-five per cent chance of meeting someone on a dating app, while women only do so sixty-six per cent of the time –’
‘Laura!’ I finally snapped. It couldn’t be healthy having all these stats running through her head.
My twin glared at the interruption, but took a deep breath before admitting, ‘There aren’t enough women on the app.’
Well, I couldn’t say I was surprised. Dating wasn’t exactly a picnic, no matter how you went about it. Whowasn’tsick of being chatted up by men with commitment issues, mummy issues, or – my personal fave – daddy issues?
‘I just need you to use this profile –’
‘Will me joining even make a difference?!’ I asked desperately, pushing aside the nausea that rose at the mere thought of dating again. ‘It sounds like you need a lot more than one or two extra women to –’
‘I’ve put the word out: asked all my old work friends, everyone I can find from back home. I even dropped a message in the old school group chat,’ Laura rushed, words pouring from her mouth like she’d anticipated my every argument.‘There’s literally no one I’ve ever known that I haven’t reached out to at this point. If Mum was still – I’d be begging her too. Please, Jessy. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. You know I never ask much from you!’
I hesitated as I pushed a curl of hair behind my ear.
It was true. Laura was always so self-sufficient, never needing anything from me. In fact, it was usually the opposite; she always gave to me. Gave up those expensive piano lessons so I could keep going. Gave up hockey because our mum couldn’t afford equipment for both of us. Looking at her now brought back memories of everything she had given up for me.
Sometimes, looking at Laura in distress was like staring into a cracked mirror. I had the darker hair, she wore glasses – but it was the same eyes, the same chin.
‘You know I’m not dating. Not after …’ It cost me, to even begin to say those words. I’d needed time to process the colossal fuckup that was my last relationship, and, truthfully, I’d probably been ignoring it more than actually trying to move on.
Who doesn’t want to just stuff down all their emotions and pretend the bad shit never happened?
