I throw a cushion at her, but she’s not wrong. I could input our data, see what the algorithm says. But what if it confirms what I already know—that guys like him and girls like me exist in different universes? Or worse, what if it says we’re compatible, and I have to confront the fact that myalgorithm might not be able to protect me from making stupid choices after all?
Another message pops up.
By the way, I know you’re Riya’s roommate. Took me 2 minutes to figure out. If you want to know more about me, just ask.
You don’t need to stalk my Instagram
But if you are, be sure to check out my summer pics. They’re pretty hot.
My face burns. He figured it out.
Of course, he’s calling me out. And, of course, he’s so confident about himself.
Better not to engage. Better to finish the app, pass the class, survive tutoring, and keep my distance from boys who make plant puns and look like trouble wrapped in a very attractive package.
Even if they do call out my stalking with a winky face.
Especially then.
7
ETHAN
“You keep pausing the fucking game,” Alfie says, not looking away from the screen where his Yoshi is absolutely destroying my Bowser. “That's the third time in two minutes.”
“Sorry, sorry.” I unpause Mario Kart, immediately drive off Rainbow Road. My phone buzzes again and I can't help grinning as I pause. Again.
“Dude.” Alfie finally turns to look at me. “What is going on?”
“Nothing,” I sing-song, typing back to Piper. She's trying to deny that her roommate—Riya liked my year-old photo, and it's adorable how flustered she's getting.
There are some pretty good pics on there too—me at the beach last summer, that one where I'm actually dressed nice for Troy's birthday. Not that I posted them for female attention or anything. But if Piper happened to scroll through them...
My phone buzzes. But it's not Piper.
Dad
Saw this and thought of you.
It's a link to an article: “Top 10 Stable Careers for College Graduates - Accounting Tops the List!”
My good mood evaporates and I groan.
“What now?” Alfie asks, and his voice has that tone that means he's not letting this go. “And you better tell me.”
I toss my phone onto the couch. “My dad's on my ass about grades. About what I'm doing after graduation.”
“Ah.” Alfie nods, that understanding look he gets. “The parent pressure special. I know it well.”
“Yeah?”
“My mom calls weekly to remind me that my cousin just made partner at his law firm. He's twenty-eight and drives a Tesla,” Alfie comments. “But here's the thing—it seems like the most important thing in the world right now is your dad's approval. But maybe, it isn't.”
I snort. “Easy for you to say.”
“If you make a decision they don't like… Honestly? The worst that can happen isn't that bad. They get upset, they adjust, life goes on?—”
"You don't get it." I cut him off, frustration boiling over. "My dad gave up everything for me. NFL dreams, full ride to State, all of it—gone because Mom got pregnant. Then I couldn't even give him the one thing that would've made it worth it—me making it instead." I laugh bitterly. "I owe him something. I've gotta dosomethinggood with my life. Something that makes his sacrifice worthwhile."
