Page 21 of Swiped

Later that week, she was on the office rooftop for lunch with Justin and Jo, meant to be enjoying another crisp and sunny San Francisco afternoon. Instead, she was absorbed in her phone, silent and reacting only to the pings of Nick’s incoming BeTwo messages. Her salad lay forgotten in the sun.

Nick: No way really????

Nat: OMG totally. The kids called me Not-alie. I was that unpopular.

So far, Nat had been pretending like nothing had changed between her and Jo, which was much easier to do when she had a screen to stare at.

The twins carried on their conversation around the random bursts of laughter from their boss.

“OK, but a face is only one part of how you recognize someone,” said Jo, spearing a chunk of ahi tuna. “Wouldn’t she notice that her husband’s entire body is different?”

“Maybe it was different in a good way,” said Justin. He wiped some mustard from his purple corduroy joggers. “Let’s ask our elder millennial for the social context.”

Nat picked up her fork and blinked at them. She still didn’t trust herself to speak non-work-related sentences to Jo.

“You still with us, boss?” asked Justin.

Nat’s phone pinged. She hunched over.

Nick: Aww, I hate those kids!

“Nope,” said Jo. “And you know our jobs kind of depend on this thing not turning into a dumpster fire live on BuzzFill, right?”

Justin sighed. “You’ve mentioned it.”

They watched a seagull glide past. Nat giggled at the message, hand still clutching her fork mid-bite. It was even easier to avoid thinking about how Jo secretly hated her when this guy was so clearly into her.

Nick: And you’re totally hot now, so joke’s on them.

Jo squinted in thought and brushed a crumb off her white button-down. “So, you’re saying the wife was like, ‘Finally! The love of my life has transformed from the neck down.’” She waved her napkin in dismissal at her brother. “Nat, are you hearing this trash?”

Nat glanced at the twins as a blush crept across her cheeks. She supposed she could say just one thing to them to keep up appearances. “Yeah, airplane prison. Funny!”

Justin reeled as if he’d been punched. “Whoa! That’s apples and oranges.”

Jo got up and scooted close to Nat on the picnic bench. She gestured to the phone. “Catching some good ones today?”

Nat felt her body tense up and pull away from Jo. “Oh yeah . . . this guy . . .” She trailed off.

Nat: Hbu? Were you super popular or something?

Jo smiled and adopted her perkiest tone. “Ooh, so a guy is texting you?”

At this, Nat saw an opportunity to flaunt. “Texting me for three days. Like, all the time!”

Jo brought her hands in front of her chest in a miniature clap. “Yay! That’s awesome.”

“It is awesome! We talk about really deep stuff. Things it took me months to tell most people. And Nick just totally gets it.” Nat took a bite of sun-softened avocado. “We’re an eight-five percent match, you know. Which feels spot-on.”

Jo tilted her head. “Well, he’s an eighty-five percent match to the person represented by your profile, but do we even know who that person is?” she teased.

“That person is me,” said Nat, an edge flaring into her voice in spite of herself.

Jo’s eyes narrowed with playful mischief. “Is it, though?”

It was a tone of banter with Jo that Nat usually loved, but it seemed a lot less fun now. “Well, I’m the one messaging him, right? So, he must like something about me!” she snapped.

Jo blinked in surprise. “Sorry!” She searched Nat’s face for an explanation. “I mean, it’s cool that he likes you.”

Nat rolled her eyes.

Justin frowned and leaned protectively toward his sister.

“Sorry, I’m just distracted,” Nat mumbled, feeling small. She should have known this would be the downside of hiring siblings. It’d always be two against one. She sighed, trying to radiate self-actualized contentment. “Isn’t it just completely gorgeous out here today?”

Her phone pinged.

Nick: tbh I was kinda popular. Prom king means you’re popular, right? Or that you had the money for a very large bribe?

Nat smiled brightly at Jo. “And he’s so funny! Oh my God.” She went back to typing.

Jo nodded like a cruise activities director who had just been told the pool was contaminated. “Great! That’s super great, but like, you’re gonna actually meet up with him, right?”

Nat nodded as darkness dripped back into her mind. Of course, Jo didn’t think someone would actually enjoy talking to her. She managed a quick, affirmative hum, but kept typing to Nick.

Jo tucked a loose strand behind her ears and nodded. “Cool, cool.”

Nat: OMG I didn’t even go to prom! I just watched old BBC DVDs all night with the other weird kids.

Nick: OK you would’ve destroyed me in high school. I secretly wanted to date the cool smart chicks like you.

Justin cleared his throat. “So, boss, when’s the date?” he asked, his whisper-soft voice pushed to top volume.

Nick: I bet you do that whole sexy librarian thing . . .

“When?” said Nat. “I don’t know. Soon.”

Justin frowned and stood with his empty lunch wrappers. “Hasn’t come up yet, though? And it’s been three days of messaging?”

“Not yet. Relax, geez!”

Nat: Shhh. No talking!

Nat giggled.

Jo turned to Justin. “Catfish?” she stage-whispered to her twin. “Lurker? What do we think?”

Justin shook his head sadly. He tossed the wrappers in the trash. “She’s fish bait.”

Anger flared in Nat’s chest. That was too much. She looked Jo right in the eyes. “Excuse me? Is it so impossible to believe that someone would actually enjoy talking to me?”

Jo blinked in shock. “What? No! You’re great!”

Nat crossed her arms and frowned. “Gee, thanks. Your words mean a lot .”

Jo’s face crumpled in confusion. “OK . . . did I do something? What’s going on right now?”

Justin took up the space next to his sister like her shadow, and Nat felt her aloneness echo at the sight of it.

She shook her head. “Look, we’re just doing our jobs. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”

“Yeah, we know,” said Justin. “The contest is just for the publicity, not to find, like, your soulmate.”

Jo chirped a nervous laugh. “Totally get it!”

Nat stood. “Actually, you two wouldn’t know this because you weren’t here when I created the app, but I did start it to find a partner.

I know sometimes people like me seem weird or lame, or .

. .” Nat took a breath, but she was too fired up not to say it.

“Or maybe we seem like a lot. But I don’t need you to like me.

I just need you to help me win this contest and then we can all get on with our lives, OK? ”

Justin had lowered his eyes to the ground, and Jo was staring at Nat with a queasy expression. “OK,” she said in a meek voice as Justin nodded in agreement.

Nat took a deep breath and dumped her mostly uneaten salad in the trash. “Good. Let’s get back to work.”

* * *

Rami wasn’t proud of the things he’d been saying into his phone that afternoon. Things like, “Your sister got married? No, come on!” and “Did she have any cute bridesmaids?” and “What about on the groom’s side?”

It had been humiliating. And fruitless.

He sat perched on the end of his bed, drumming a pen against the notepad on his lap.

Every name on the list was crossed out — every cousin, second-cousin, semi-aunt, and old childhood friend searched and found devoid of leads for someone he could date.

He even would have asked his little sister, Sana, to set him up with one of her giggly friends — a task that would have thrilled her to no end had she not moved away last year for a fresh start after an epic breakup.

He didn’t want to risk opening any old wounds.

There was one last name on the list. It read: Amma?

He ripped off the paper, crumpled it, and threw it against the wall with a groan.

There were depths to which he would not sink.

Yet. Besides, one of his cousins had probably alerted his mom to his little quest by now, anyway.

Usually, he was grateful to have grown up in the Bay Area, but there were days he wished he had flown a little farther from the nest.

A sharp knock sounded on his door, and Ian popped his head in. “Sounds like someone needs a little help?”

“Were you just standing right outside my door?”

Ian breezed in. “The shaman sends his own invitation.” He made for Rami’s closet and began rifling through the clothes. “We’re going to start small, little polliwog. If you want to catch a fish, you have to go to the fullest pond.”

Rami frowned. “OK, that is a very mixed metaphor, and I think a frog might be a poor choice given the negative romantic connotations of frogs—”

Ian pulled off the shirt he was wearing and tossed it to Rami. “Wear this. Let’s go.”

Rami watched the massive, coiled snake tattoo on Ian’s back ripple as he walked out of the room. He held up the weird, silvery button-down pooled in his lap. At least Ian’s plan probably wouldn’t involve any more phone calls.

* * *

Ian and Rami pushed their dark green grocery carts through the cavernous produce section of the grocery co-op.

Rami could smell the cedar and ylang-ylang notes of Ian’s cologne in his shimmery borrowed shirt.

He had to admit it was a nice scent. Ian, himself, was wearing a somber navy-blue hoodie for a reason that had something to do with peacocks. Rami hadn’t tried to understand it.

He leaned his elbows on his cart. “Why would you ever want to meet someone at the grocery store? It’s too much pressure.

” He watched the millennials and Gen Xers in yoga pants and fair-trade organic kaftans mill around them, with the occasional aging punk and muscle bro thrown into the mix of urban hippies.

“Sometimes you need to buy toilet paper and canned chili, and you can’t impress a girl with that in your cart. ”

Ian cocked his head. “Can’t you?”

“Gross.”

Ian placed an enormous bushel of kale into his cart. “Relax, everyone knows the co-op is the hookup store. This food is not for eating.”