Page 44 of Swiped

Jo met Nat at the door when she walked back into the office, already wearing her Team Nat shirt.

Excitement buzzed off of her petite frame in a way that Nat could feel in the air.

“Hey, how are you feeling? Do you want to practice what you’re gonna say, or do some affirmation exercises, or do you just want some quiet time to get in the zone? ”

Nat peered around the office. “Is Justin here?”

“No, he headed to the expo center to make sure the stage set-up was going all right.” Jo’s eyes frowned a little through her peppy smile. “Anything I can help you with?”

Nat nodded, searching for what to say. She had Jo to herself, and she knew that any more time spent doomscrolling might just liquify her brain for good. It was time to face what had happened between them. “Listen, can we talk?” she asked, gesturing to their ancient IKEA sofa.

Jo perched on the edge and searched her with nervous eyes. “Everything good?”

“Yes . . . actually, no.” Nat twisted her hands in her lap as she sat next to Jo.

In all the years that she had dealt with bullies and rejections and friends that turned their backs on her, she had never once talked to any of them about it.

Why would she? So, she could hear exactly what was wrong with her?

But as she searched Jo’s patient but nervous expression, she realized that maybe that was actually the precise information that she needed.

After all, how could she improve if she didn’t know what to fix?

Once again, it all came down to data. And data was something that she could handle.

Nat took a deep breath. “You pocket dialed me one night, and I heard you telling someone that you really don’t like me. ”

Jo’s face went slack, and her eyes gaped before she buried her head in her hands. “Oh my God,” she said. “When? What did I say? I’m so sorry! I was probably just venting about something and—”

Nat touched a hand to Jo’s shoulder to stop her. “It’s OK, you don’t have to like me,” she said. “We spend a lot of time together, and you probably know me about as well as anyone these days, so I guess I just want to know why, or like, why not?”

“But I do like you!” Jo looked at her with panic swimming in her eyes. “Also, I really like this job!”

“You don’t ever need to worry about your job,” said Nat, suddenly feeling like a monster.

“I know it was unfair of me to ask you that, but I just . . .” She bit the inside of her lip.

She felt like she’d waded out neck-deep into swampy water, but now the only way out was to keep going.

“I don’t have a lot of friends, OK? In my experience, people tend to keep me at arm’s length, especially once they get to know me, and that’s really the whole reason I started BeTwo — so people would know what they were getting beforehand and then maybe they wouldn’t be disappointed and bail. ”

Jo narrowed her eyes as a realization hit her, and her face relaxed.

“I see,” she said. She took a few breaths, and Nat could practically see the thoughts turning in her head.

“So, if that’s why you started the app, why didn’t you ever make a profile and use it?

” Jo waved a hand toward the Team Nat shirt layered over her button-down.

“I mean, before all this contest stuff.”

Nat shrugged. “Well, I did use it to look for people,” she said, starting on her standard line of defense.

But the words felt hollow as soon as she heard them echo in the empty office.

The loopy Team Nat cursive on Jo’s shirt wove into her thoughts like a ribbon — if she couldn’t be honest with someone wearing her name on their chest, when could she be?

“I guess I didn’t think anyone would really be interested in me.

” She gave Jo a sad smile. As incredibly difficult as it had been to say, once the words were out of her mouth, they sounded so small and childish, even if they were deeply true.

Jo nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” She ran her eyes over Nat with a cautious expression and smoothed her sleek ponytail.

“I don’t know what you heard me say, but that’s probably what I was talking about.

It’s gotten really depressing to come to work day after day and promote an app that’s all about love and hope and connection, but yet the creator is so . . .” She trailed off.

Nat jumped in to try and help her out. “Annoying? Demanding? A totally selfish bitch?”

“No, it’s like you were just shut off. ” Jo sighed and shook her head.

“I get focusing on your career, but I never understood why you would make a dating app if you weren’t going to date at all, and if you didn’t even believe in having love in your life.

Obviously, the algorithm is genius and all, but it started to just feel, I don’t know, kinda bad vibes. ”

Nat closed her eyes and let Jo’s words sink in, heavy even in their Gen Z patois.

She was right, of course. Nat’s confidence in her algorithm had never wavered, but she’d never managed to extend that confidence to her actual self.

Instead, she’d hidden behind her work for validation because it was, objectively, really damn good, but also because she was afraid that her personality couldn’t live up to anywhere close to that standard.

It was one thing to make a “genius algorithm,” and it was another to then get rejected by it.

But those mistakes were all behind her now, right?

Even though the contest with Rami had forced her hand, she had used BeTwo in earnest, and she had found a partner who wanted to be with her.

So, what did Jo have to say about all of that?

“Well, I have Thom now,” she ventured. “I mean, you’re right, about everything, but the situation has changed . . . hasn’t it?”

Jo fixed her with a bright smile. “Thom! Yes, totally.” She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Jo, please,” Nat said. “Please just be honest with me.” She felt the plea throb behind her eyes like a headache. “As a friend?”

A warm smile crept into Jo’s heart-shaped face as she repeated Nat’s words. “As a friend . . . OK.” She scanned the ceiling and twisted her hands in thought. “I can totally see the Thom thing for you,” she said.

“But?”

“But . . . I don’t think you have to settle so soon.”

Nat sat up straighter. “He’s my ninety-nine percent match. Not exactly settling.”

Jo smiled and nodded again. “Yes! That match is bananas high.”

Their eyes met with a laugh at the reference.

“But?”

“But . . . do you look at him the way you look at Rami?” Jo shrugged as a flush lit her cheeks.

“I know, he’s your competition, but once I saw you two together, I can’t un-see it — in a good way.

Justin and I have been talking about it non-stop since we watched you two at the rooftop interview.

It was like, fireworks, explosions, you wanna kill each other but also rip each other’s clothes off!

It was way too cute.” She giggled and then grew serious. “Sorry if that was overstepping.”

Nat felt the truth of Jo’s giddy admission swirl in her vision like stars.

Rami. Of course, Nat knew just how deeply he had become lodged in her heart, but the fact that it was so obvious as to be a topic of conversation between the twins?

That was a new data point — one that she didn’t quite know what to do with yet, especially since she was hours away from publicly declaring her victory over him and his crusade against her app.

At least she had done something about the situation with Jo. She crossed her hands over her heart and gave Jo a warm look. “Thank you,” she said. “And I’m sorry that I put you in this position. I’m gonna work on my personal friendships outside of work, I promise.”

“We can be friends! I want to be friends!” said Jo. “You know, work friends, and you’re still also my boss, so . . .” She gave a nervous laugh and trailed off.

Nat clapped her hands and stood. “As your boss, I officially demand that we get back to work.” She glanced at the clock.

“Which, today, means that I have to go report on my dating life on a livestream in front of a room full of strangers, just so I can keep this company from crashing to the ground.”

Jo brushed some non-existent dirt off her shoulders. “No big deal, just another day.”

“Right? Good thing my love life isn’t confusing at all!” Nat gathered her things.

“I know! So grateful for that,” chimed Jo, pulling on her coat and heaving a bag full of Team Nat shirts and swag.

Nat held open the door for Jo as they left. “And super good that the internet is full of generous, mentally stable people who won’t rush to judgment.” She turned off the office lights and locked the door. “Never been happier.”

* * *

Nat and Jo approached the expo. It was in the same building as Tech-Talk had been, back when the whole, ridiculous bet started. There was, again, a line of people snaking around the entire block to get in. Neon pink and navy BuzzFill BuzzForce flags and banners flashed in the strong wind.

No turning back now.

Jo shouldered open the glass doors and jerked her chin toward Nat. “You coming?”

Nat shook her head. “You go ahead. Thom wants to meet out here so we can walk in together.”

Jo smiled through a flicker of concern. “OK, well good luck out there,” she chirped, stepping into the swirling crowd of people inside the expo. “See you on the other side!”

* * *

Nat and Thom settled into their director’s chairs on the stage as producers scurried around them. Nat eyed the two empty chairs for Rami and Allison.

Thom squeezed her hand and surveyed the rows and rows of empty audience seats with gleaming eyes. “Not a bad way to spend an evening, right?” he said.