I think I like playing Penny. Well, Naz...
Penny:I have a penis. I prefer women. I swiped right by accident.
Get to know that, Naz with the nice hair!
Henry:Hey, beautiful. I love your profile pic. Are you down to fuck like a bunny, too?
Penny:Are you enquiring with regards to my fecundity, Henry? Did you know a doe bunny’s ovulation is triggered merely by mating? That they’re capable of falling pregnant within hours of having given birth?
That’s a lot of babies, Henry. Are you willing to support a large family?
Are you financially able to?
Are you vying for an invitation to impregnate me, Henry? Are you??
Oh, sorry. I get it now! You want to fuck like bunnies because you can only keep it up for sixty seconds.
Respectfully, Henry, I say no.
Art:Hey, gurl. You DTF?
Really? Firstly, whoever names their child Art needs a punch in the head. Secondly, being Penny is so much fucking fun.
Penny:After a day spent looking at your profile pictures I’ve already married you, divorced you, and stalked you and your new girlfriend, all in my head. Thank you for the memories and for not pressing charges. P.S. I’m taking the doll collection, and I’m taking the cat. I brought both into this marriage, I’m taking them out, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It was nice knowing you, Art.
Next!
Grant:Hey, lady, how’s your day so far?
Unimaginative, Grant. Pathetic.
Penny:Wow. I cannot BELIEVE they let us use this app in prison.
James:So you’re a doctor? That’s pretty good because I’m dying from how cute you are.
Jesus Christ. The average London male, according to Nell’s inbox, not only has no game but also has an IQ of about 13. Not even going to answer this one.
Delete!
Sam:He’ll only leave you. He doesn’t belong.
Well, that’s fucking weird.
I flip to the profile. Only one photograph shows up on the bio. It’s a rear view of man in army fatigues. It could be anyone—it could shit hired from a fancy-dress shop.
The bio reads: Soldier. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Fucking weird. Why would Nell of shown an interest? Maybe it was a mistake or Melody messing around. It doesn’t explain the message though. I make a mental note to speak with Mel. Without letting her no I’ve been snooping.
The precautionary alarm sounds on my watch—once a soldier, always a soldier—Nell will be arriving at work around now. Time to log off. I set my laptop on the coffee table again, though resolve to put it somewhere out of the cat temptation while I go for my daily run. They’ve been longer and harder this week because I have a lot of frustrated excess energy to release. So I run, and I renovate, and by the time I see Nell, I’m too exhausted to raise an eyebrow, let alone my dick.
Leaning down, I pick up my shoes, noticing my socks are missing. I’d shoved a pair in the right shoe earlier on. I wonder if they’ve fallen out on in from the kitchen, but as I stand, I see the fat furry fucker has them in his mouth.
‘You little...’ I lunge for the thing, but they don’t call them cat-like reflexes for no reason. As Smalls makes for the stairs, I follow him, taking the treads two at a time. As I reach the first landing, I catch the tell-tale evidence of his tail as he makes for the next floor, then again, as he disappears into Nell’s bedroom.
‘I’d like to say I have you cornered,’ I tell him, following him in, ‘but without doors, we both know that’s not true.
Smalls sits near the headboard of Nell’s bed, his tail swishing angrily, my socks dangling from his mouth.
