“It’s early,” I say, brushing off her praise. “But it feels kind of like the right thing.”
“Are you going to ask Dad to look at it?”
I sigh, slowly letting the air out. “I don’t know. I want to, but I also want to prove I can do something without him. I’m tired of letting him down.”
“Well, you know—”—she wiggles her eyebrows—“it’s integral to your new friend, too.”
“Oh my gosh, stop.” I burst into full laughter, my head falling back on the couch. “He probably wouldn’t even sign up.”
“I bet he would.” Nora flashes her signature smirk, eyebrows lifted. “Keep me posted on the hot neighbor. I expect hourly updates. And if you ever get married, I want credit for the prediction.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling when she hangs up and the screen goes dark.
Cocoa whimpers as he stretches from his bed.
“I guess it’s time to call it a night,” I say, standing up and stretching my arms over my head. “We have a training session coming up tomorrow.”
He snorts and then hops up to follow me into the bedroom.
I move quickly through my nighttime routine and then climb into the queen-sized bed with a bright pink duvet. I lean back on the pillow, Cocoa hopping up to lie beside me, and then I reach for my phone.
Just a quick scroll and I’ll go to bed.
I can already tell my brain is wired from the sisterly pep talk, and now the whole apartment feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting to see if I can stick to my own hype.
Nora thinks it’s a good idea.And that means something. It means I might actually stand a shot this time.
I smile to myself as I’m halfway through a meme account’s daily dump, when I see it…
A stock photo of a hot guy standing at a grill, drink in hand, his jawline visible from space. The meme reads:When your neighbor is a total snack and all you have is a microwave.
My mouth drops open, and I don’t just snort. Iloseit. I physically have to cover my mouth to keep from waking the dog.
Because it’s so relatable. I have a microwave. And my neighbor is … well, Dom.
I screenshot the meme, then instantly think of sending it to Nora. She’d appreciate the subtlety. I clickshare, and my messaging app pops up.
I tap. The screen blurs.Sentappears in blue, and for a split second, I have no idea what I’ve just done.
But then… Then I see it.
The little circle with Dom’s profile pic sits there, smug. A single line underneath, the meme in its full, unfiltered glory.
Oh no… No, no, no. Youhaveto be kidding me.
My entire body goes cold, then hot, then back to cold so fast it’s like my nervous system short-circuited. I slap a hand over my mouth and let out a sound I’ve never heard myself make before, a kind of whimper mixed with a laugh. I fumble the phone and it slips off my leg and clatters to the floor. Cocoa’s head instantly pops up.
“No, no,” I whisper, diving for the device. I jab at the screen, desperate to see if there’s anunsendoption.
There isn’t, of course.
And it’sdelivered.
Cocoa watches me, completely invested. I feel like he’s judging my digital skills, and frankly, I deserve it.
I pace the apartment, phone in both hands, muttering, “Maybe he won’t see it. Maybe he has notifications off. Maybe he’ll think it’s a mass meme.”
I check the screen. A full-body cringe sets in. I’m half a breath away from launching my phone into the nearest garbage disposal when I remember that it’s my only lifeline to the outside world.
