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Sixteen

After getting home from Stone Harbor, I texted Katie and the bridesmaids that I was ready to resume Ready-Set-Date, and they couldn’t have been happier.

Okay, I’m game , I’d texted our chat.

Bring on the boys!

Because I needed to stop thinking about Connor.

Amanda replied first: Let’s find you love!

She and her boyfriend must be doing well , I surmised.

Paige: Amazing!!!!

Courtney: I’m on the phone with a client, but I have ideas…

Yasmin: YAY

Reese: Should we have the next guy take a lie detector test and a personality assessment?

I couldn’t help but laugh.

I knew she was being snarky, but as someone who leaned toward the sardonic end of the spectrum, I found it part of Reese’s charm.

Meredith didn’t respond for a few hours, although when she did, the message read: I really think it should be the boy next door.

I sighed. He has a girlfriend right now.

Connor had literally dropped me at home before speeding off to see Lauren.

Ah , Meredith replied, like she could hear the glumness in my words.

I see.

Fantastic , I thought.

She knows I like him.

Katie’s response was weirdly delayed.

Could she tell I liked Connor too?

She weighed in only when we moved on to other possible candidates.

Courtney’s dermatologist’s son was a rising freshman at Villanova?

He was moving into his dorm next week for football preseason, but campus wasn’t that far away from me, right?

No college guys , Katie wrote, and I somehow knew she wasn’t thinking of my ice-skating date with Chad, but my weekend at Princeton.

She didn’t want me disturbing her sleep at 2 a.m. again.

Villanova was right outside Philly; if something went wrong, she knew Austin would be my first call.

It was Reese who suggested I create a profile on a dating app, and she was very quickly backed by the others.

Don’t use Tinder , Amanda said.

These days, it’s all about hookups (and there are a lot of weirdos) .

Amanda, every app has weirdos , Reese pointed out.

I met my fiancé on Bumble , Courtney said.

It’s nice because when you match, the girl has to message the guy first. We hold all the cards.

I’m mostly on Hinge , Yasmin told me.

It’s geared toward people looking for a serious relationship.

Paige, Meredith, and Katie remained silent.

I could picture workaholic Paige curled up on her couch, answering emails and drawing on her tablet—did that thing’s battery ever die?

—but were Katie and Meredith busy?

I wanted their hot takes.

They were the ones who really bolstered me.

My phone buzzing brought me back to the conversation.

Paige, this time. I vote Bumble , she said.

Sometimes it’s awkward to DM matches you like, but it helps filter out the ones you don’t.

Okay, thank you! I texted when neither Katie nor Meredith chimed in, stomach a little unsettled.

I’ll keep you updated .

BUMBLE , Courtney emphasized.

“Bumble?” Dad said at lunch.

He was sitting at the island, inhaling a BLT on sourdough toast before his 1:30 showing (Aaron and Sophie Zankman, who couldn’t decide between midcentury modern or urban farmhouse).

“Nope, no way.” He shook his head.

“Forget it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m almost eighteen.”

“Yes.” Dad gave me a look.

“Keyword: almost .”

“When did this desire to date start?” Da asked casually.

“You’ve never seemed particularly interested.”

“Which is fine!” Dad quickly added.

“We’re just curious.”

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling a little keyed up.

“I guess…” I trailed off, unsure what to say.

I didn’t want to tell them the truth—my arrangement with the bridesmaids—so that left me with the truth -truth.

“I think it’d be nice to have a boyfriend.” I shrugged.

“Someone to dance with at Austin’s wedding.”

My parents exchanged a look.

“Does our school still have that dating app?” Marco piped up from the kitchen table.

He was working here today, researching something for his professor.

“This girl developed it for a class, and it was really popular my senior year. Everyone was swiping on it. You need to have a Council Rock school district email address to create a profile.”

Dad swallowed the last of his sandwich.

“I like that. I’d much rather you bring home a high schooler than a thirty-seven-year-old from Bumble.”

“Hilarious, Dad.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, it’s still active,” I told Marco.

“I mean, I don’t know how many people really use it anymore, but I can make an account.”

Marco sat up straighter in his chair.

“You want to do that later? I had one for a while.”

Really?

I thought, surprised.

Marco álvarez, who’d had girls surrounding him left and right in high school, had an online dating profile?

And wait, was he on what Reese referred to as “the apps” now ?

Would he tell me if he was hooking up with someone from Tinder?

Or had met the girl of his dreams on Hinge?

As Marco’s friend, I was learning that he was pretty private.

“No, thank you,” I said, because I could also be private.

I might’ve shown him Katie’s bachelorette weekend dossier and revealed what color underwear I wore, but somehow this felt more personal than that.

I winked at him, though.

“I think I can handle it.”

***

But, as it turned out, I could not handle it.

I got about as far as entering my name before a profile picture stumped me and I decided I needed a wingman—or wingwoman.

Hey, are you around today?

I texted Natalie.

Tell me when and where!

she replied, and I laughed.

We texted regularly but hadn’t seen each other in a while.

Her summer had been swamped, too.

An hour later, we were camped out on Little Sunflower Bakery’s patio with iced coffees and almond croissants.

“Wow, holy crap,” Natalie said after I filled her in on my quest for true love (or however the bridesmaids liked to frame it).

Next to Marco, she was now the only person I’d told.

“So that’s how you and Davis happened?”

“Yes,” I said.

“His cousin Reese is one of Katie’s bridesmaids, so she set us up.”

Then I recapped my date with Chad, which involved telling her about partying at Princeton with Derek.

“What a fucking creep!” she exclaimed, loud enough that coffee addicts and pastry lovers at nearby tables glanced over at us.

Both of us blushed, but soon started giggling.

Natalie took my hand and squeezed it.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Mads.”

“Thanks,” I smiled at her.

We’d become friends in the weirdest way, but somehow, it was easy between us.

“It was awful, but I’m okay and have moved past it.”

“Good.” Natalie nodded.

“Now, before we make you the best profile ever, I need to know where we stand with Connor.”

“Just friends,” I reported.

“He’s still with Lauren, and she’s gotten sick of me third-wheeling them.” I rolled my eyes.

“But if Marco’s over, we all hang out together.”

Natalie slightly raised an eyebrow.

“Connor and I still hang out at night, though,” I said.

“Lately we’ve been ordering cheap Chinese and watching whatever his brother recommends on Netflix. We’re starting Emily in Paris tonight.”

“Alright, I’m not going to comment on Emily in Paris ,” Natalie said.

“I don’t want to spoil anything, but is it safe to say you’re still pining after Connor?”

I hesitated, but eventually nodded.

“I can’t shake the feeling that we’d be good together, and I know it’s not going to go away unless we try.”

“Uh-huh.” Natalie pulled off a piece of flaky croissant and popped it in her mouth.

“So then let me ask you this…” She gave me a look.

“If you can’t stop daydreaming about Connor, why are we signing you up for this student dating app?”

Feeling my pulse speed up, I avoided answering by taking a sip of coffee.

“Is it an effort to get over Connor?” she pressed.

“Or is it…?”

“Is it what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

Natalie didn’t buy it.

“Ah, so we are pulling a Davis.”

“No!” I blurted, then amended, “Yes—no. I don’t know. I mean, it worked, right?”

“Yes, it got us to talk and ultimately brought us back together,” Natalie agreed.

“But it was messy, painful, immature, and overall, yikes .”

“I’m not trying to make him jealous the way Davis made you jealous,” I said.

“I just want to see if it’ll get him to notice me.”

“I think the only way he’s gonna notice you in a new way is if you show direct interest in him,” Natalie said.

“You’ve already gone out with two guys.”

“I know,” I said, a lump forming in my throat, “but he didn’t know them. If I go out with someone from school, I think it’ll be different.”

Madeline Fisher-Michaels, you are a terrible person, the voice in the back of my head said, and I couldn’t disagree.

I was being pretty devious.

Natalie groaned. “Why am I helping you do this?”

“Because you love me, Nat,” I said.

“You also love the idea of Connor and me as a couple.” I paused.

“And if you don’t help me, I’ll end up choosing a field hockey action shot as my profile picture and not get any interest from anyone.”

She laughed.

“You do make some valid points,” she said, reaching across the table for my phone.

“Let’s see what you’ve got…”

I ADORE THIS , Meredith commented later, once I’d sent screenshots of my dating profile to the bridesmaid group chat.

Your pictures are beautiful, and I love your answers to the icebreaker prompts.

They sound just like you.

My friend helped A LOT , I texted after the others had echoed her.

Because Natalie had chosen the (required) three photos that represented me best.

“Who took this?” she’d asked as she cropped a recent picture of me.

“You look ridiculously happy.”

“Connor, actually.” I smiled at the photo of my glowing grin.

Natalie swoon-sighed.

“Okay, I fully support this endeavor now. You should be together. He really brings you to life.”

“Yeah, he does,” I said, because it was true…

even if it wasn’t the case in this particular snapshot.

Connor wasn’t the one who’d nearly had me in tears.

He’d only shouted my name so I’d turn and look at the camera.

No, it was Marco who was goofing around right then.

Happily drunk on his mother’s sangria, he’d been singing and dancing barefoot under a Stone Harbor streetlight in an old T-shirt and cuffed jeans.

Connor and I’d laughed so hard our lungs had almost given out.

Now, Yasmin texted: Katie, have you passed the Cards Against Humanity test?

??

I sucked in a breath.

One of the prompts Natalie and I’d chosen was I’ll Brag About You to My Family If…

My answer?

You beat me in Cards Against Humanity.

Not yet , Katie texted back, and then had the sheer audacity to add: Harry’s too clever for his own good.

Come on, give me some credit!

I thought, frowning at my phone screen.

Granted, Dad did always win our games, but I usually came in second!

I exited out of Messages and swiped across my home screen to the dating app’s icon.

After polishing my profile, Natalie and I’d swiped together for a while; I hadn’t opened up the app since.

But now, I was greeted by a pop-up message: SNATCH YOUR MATCH!

My pulse leapt. Someone had liked me!

I tapped to see who it was.

Okay , I thought, smiling a little.

I can work with this.

***

With Lauren constantly hanging around, there was no casual time to tell Connor my news.

I didn’t want it to interrupt our nightly Netflix binges, so I waited until the day of my date to give him a heads-up.

We were riding Chip and Chop bareback in the far field; along with shellfish, Connor was technically allergic to horses, but he loved them too much to stay away.

Zyrtec, jeans, and long-sleeve shirts mostly kept his hives at bay.

“Just an FYI, I can’t watch Emily in Paris tonight,” he told me.

“Lauren’s been dying to go to Six Flags, so we’re heading there later.”

“Okay, no problem,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

Because, to put it gently, amusement parks were something straight out of Connor’s nightmares.

After getting trapped at the top of a roller coaster for two hours when he was ten (a freak technical difficulty), he’d developed a serious fear of heights, and he hated waterslides.

“I don’t know what it is about chlorine…” he once said.

“But it makes me so nauseous.”

Our seventh-grade field trip to Six Flags water park?

He lasted five minutes in the wave pool before profusely vomiting in the lazy river.

“I actually can’t do tonight, either,” I added.

“I’m going to the movies.”

“Oh,” Connor said.

“With the girls?”

I shook my head.

Most were still on vacation.

His brow furrowed. “I thought Marco had friends from Princeton in town?”

“He does,” I confirmed, then cleared my throat.

“I have a date.”

“Wait, a date?” Connor asked.

“You have a date ?”

I played it cool.

“Yes, tonight.”

“With who?”

“Jacob Bluestein.”

Connor slowed Chip to a stop, and I did the same with Chop.

He gave me a blank look.

“I’m confused. I didn’t even know you knew Blue.”

“ Of course I know Blue,” I said.

“He’s on the wrestling team.”

“Well, yeah,” Connor said.

“But like, you don’t know him -know him.”

“Yes, I do.” I straightened my shoulders.

“We matched on that dating app Isa Cruz invented and have been chatting for a week. He asked me out a few days ago.”

Connor opened his mouth, then closed it.

“What have you been talking about?” he eventually asked.

“Just stuff,” I replied.

“Our summers, sports, movies, families, how we’d never want a bird as a pet.” I shrugged.

“Randomness.”

He slowly nodded.

“That sounds good.”

I smiled.

“I think so.”

The expression on Connor’s face had twisted, making him look half perplexed, half pissed off.

Something on your mind?

I wanted to say but didn’t.

Are puzzle pieces fitting into place?

Instead, I laid it on thicker.

“I’m really excited.”

And truthfully, I was excited.

***

“He’s here!” Da called up the stairs just as I was finishing my makeup and pulling my hair into a high ponytail.

I glanced out my window to see Jacob’s Silverado truck park where my car usually was.

He’s picking you up, right?

Meredith had asked, and after I’d said no, that we’d agreed to meet at the theater, Katie wrote: Unacceptable.

Get him to pick you up.

Tell him your car is in the shop so you need a ride.

I agree with Katie , Natalie said as my secondary consultant.

Davis should’ve picked you up for our JProm.

Show some manners, dudes.

No worries! Jacob texted back after I’d messaged him about car issues.

I’ll swing by and grab you!

He was a big fan of exclamation points.

And he was also pretty cute.

Stocky and strong from wrestling, he had curly brown hair and kind hazel eyes.

I liked that he’d pseudo-dressed up for tonight, wearing a short-sleeve button-down and khakis.

He came to the front door, and even though his knock set off Arthur and Francine, he took it in stride—letting them push up against him for pets while my parents welcomed him.

“It was really great to meet you both,” he said after we talked for a few minutes.

The movie started in a half hour.

“I’ll have her home by—”

“Ten,” Da said at the same time Dad went, “Eleven.”

“Twelve!” I joked.

“ Before the clock strikes twelve,” Da amended with an air of finality.

Dad shot me a look that said, You’re fairly confident in this date, aren’t you?

My stomach swished. Yes, I was, but I also had a feeling Connor would show up after he dropped Lauren off after their Six Flags date.

And I admit, I didn’t want to be home.

“Ready, Mads?” Jacob asked.

“Yep.” I clapped my hands together as Da grabbed the dogs’ collars and tugged them away from Jacob.

“Let’s go!”

***

I blinked when we walked into the movie theater’s lobby.

“Tim?” I called to the guy wearing a light blue polo with a needlepointed lobster belt waiting at concessions.

“Timothy Hobson-Kirby the Fourth?”

He turned toward us.

His face, freckled from spending the summer on Nantucket, broke into a grin.

“Hey, Mads! How’ve you been?”

Oh my god, I thought.

The Princetonians are here?

“Who’s that?” Jacob asked when we walked toward the snack line.

“Timothy Hobson-Kirby the Fourth,” Marco’s friend introduced himself, offering Jacob his hand to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Jacob,” he said as they shook.

“Bluestein.”

“Tim is a friend of Marco álvarez’s from Princeton,” I explained.

“Ah, right, Marco álvarez…” Jacob said distantly, like Marco was someone that could be forgotten.

“Good guy.”

“Yes, a good guy with a questionable palate,” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV said.

“He plans to mix Milk Duds with his popcorn.”

That sounds seriously delectable , my sweet tooth sang.

Like chocolate caramel corn.

I glanced at the snacks that had accumulated on the counter.

A medium popcorn, Milk Duds, Sour Patch Kids, and two water bottles.

“Are all four of you here?”

Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV shook his head.

“No, only Marco and me. We left Simon cosplaying F. Scott at Fable—he’s literally writing longhand at the bar—and Zach’s not due in until the day before we leave for Stone Harbor. He’s still in Florida with NASA.”

I nodded.

Marco had mentioned that he’d invited a bunch of Princeton people to the shore next week to celebrate the end of summer.

Meanwhile, I’d be up in the Finger Lakes celebrating the future Mrs. Austin Fisher-Michaels.

But it was cool. I’d bought my pair of personality panties.

“Are you guys seeing the new Christopher Nolan?” Jacob asked, and I didn’t realize how worried I was about it being the same movie until Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV confirmed it wasn’t.

“I should get back in there,” he said after finally paying for his food.

“The trailers kicked off twenty minutes ago, so the actual film should start soon.” He smiled at me.

“I’ll tell Marco you said hello.”

“Great, thanks.” I gritted my teeth.

Granted, we lived near each other, but why was Marco always in the right place at the wrong time?

Or the right place at the right time?

These cameos of his were becoming more than a charming coincidence.

Forget about it , I told myself, listening as Jacob ordered us two separate popcorns.

It felt automatic to just share a bucket like I did with Connor, but no problem.

Not everyone liked sharing their food.

“I can get it,” I said after ordering some peanut M&M’s, and my heart warmed when Jacob shook his head.

“ I asked you out,” he said.

“Tonight’s on me.”

“Thank you.” I smiled but had barely glanced away before I heard Jacob swear under his breath.

“Actually, do you mind?” he asked me, motioning to the register.

“I forgot my wallet.”

“Oh, sure.” I opened Apple Pay on my phone and tapped it against the PIN pad.

“The wonders of technology,” I joked awkwardly.

Jacob blushed. “I’ll Venmo you.”

Less than a minute later, my phone made a cha-ching noise.

My stomach twisted. I was cool with paying, but being immediately reimbursed didn’t feel very romantic.

In the theater, we reclined our cushy chairs and talked about school being less than a month away until the lights dimmed and the trailers began.

I dug into my popcorn and candy and mentally assigned each movie to a family member.

Trailer one, the new Marvel?

Austin. Trailer two, a family crime drama (with a luxury home as headquarters)?

Dad. Trailer three, an underdog sports story?

Da. Trailer four, a high-octane femme-fatale espionage flick with star-crossed lovers?

“Is everything okay?” Jacob asked as I unlocked my phone, screen glowing in the darkened theater.

“Yes, it’s fine,” I said, quickly tapping out a text with no hey-hi-hello whatsoever.

Just: Check out the trailer for The Antihero.

Looks good, right?

Maybe Ready-Set-Date wasn’t the only way I could try to bridge the gap with Katie.

Maybe it could be the little things, too.

I smiled at Jacob after switching my phone to the little-known “theater mode,” and then casually positioned my arm on the armrest between us.

But either my date was clueless, or he wasn’t interested in holding hands.

Because for the first third of the movie—or halfway, I was barely paying attention—he took zero notice.

He didn’t even glance over at me!

This is painful . I ached inside as my entire right arm gradually lost all sense of feeling.

It went from healthy blood flow to pins-and-needles pricks to cold and numb, completely and utterly lifeless.

Can’t he take my hand before we need to amputate?

It wasn’t until a jump scare happened onscreen (I guess Christopher Nolan dabbled in horror now) that Jacob jolted and clamped his hand down on mine.

Heart rate spiking, I chanced flipping my dead lobster hand over so our palms pressed together.

Jacob wasted no time in lacing our fingers.

“Your hand is ice-cold,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jacob squeezed my hand.

“I’ll warm it up.”

***

Per most Christopher Nolan films, the movie lasted around three hours.

Jacob and I left our theater holding hands, but I stopped short when I saw Marco and Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV sitting on a bench nearby.

They hadn’t been waiting for us, had they?

“How was it?” Marco asked once he and Jacob had nodded at each other.

I swore I caught a muscle in Marco’s jaw twitch.

“Mind expanding,” I answered smoothly, because it sounded better than: I already don’t remember how it ended.

“Nice,” Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV said.

“We’re waiting for the midnight showing.”

“I bet you are,” Jacob muttered.

“Well, have fun!” I said brightly.

“My parents love a good curfew, so we’ve gotta go…”

I suggested we play some music on the ride home, but Jacob asked what Marco was up to these days.

“He looks like a jock pretending to be an intellectual.” He shook his head.

“I mean, why did he get those glasses?”

“Because he’s nearsighted,” I said.

Seriously, I’d die on a hill for those tortoiseshell specs.

“And he is an intellectual,” I added, feeling a little defensive.

“Even on the soccer field, he’s always been smart.”

“He’s also always liked you,” Jacob said matter-of-factly.

Something surged up my spine.

“What?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled and made a left-hand turn.

“You never saw that?”

“Um, no,” I sputtered.

“The only thing to see was the harem of girls surrounding him in the cafeteria.” I rolled my eyes.

“And don’t even get me started on this one girl at Princeton…”

Jacob, bless him, listened to me wage war on Shelly Freeman all the way home.

It wasn’t until we reached my neighborhood that I stopped to breathe, and that was only because he shifted his truck into park by our mailbox.

“Keep going, Blue,” I joked, gesturing up my long driveway.

“We still have some ground to cover.”

“So you aren’t interested in Marco?” Jacob asked.

I laughed. He should’ve been asking about Connor, not Marco!

“God, no,” I said. “Marco álvarez is just a friend.”

No, he’s one of your best friends , I realized, and felt a swift swirl of sweetness in my core.

If something happened, Marco was one of the people I wanted to tell most. Just like Austin and Connor.

“Well, good.” Jacob unbuckled his seat belt.

“Because I had a really great time tonight, Mads.”

“Me too…” I murmured, all musings on Marco evaporating into oblivion.

Jacob was leaning across the truck’s center console, my heart hammering relentlessly.

This is it , I thought.

Finally, my first kiss.

Jacob’s lips were warm when they brushed mine, but before I could make a valiant attempt at kissing him back, his slick tongue slipped into my mouth so he could snake it all the way down my throat.

I hoped it would get better, but once his drool started spilling down my chin, all I could think was: Ew.

Ew, ew, ew.

And, for good measure, EW!

!!

So much for a sparkling first kiss.