14 Leti
Leti
Three days later, I open the front door and my eyes fall on the giant three-ring binder before the person carrying it. That thing has to be at least three inches thick. I could successfully commit a homicide with it, though white is not a convenient color for a murder weapon.
“Can I use your wall?” Julian sidesteps me into the apartment before I have the chance to ask for an explanation. “I need a place to spread this out.” He indicates the could-be-weapon in his hands.
“What exactly is in there that requires wall space?”
“I printed out the profiles of all your matches,” he says casually, as if that is anywhere near a casual thing to say.
“I’m sorry, you did what?”
“Look.” He holds out the binder, opening it to the first tab (there are tabs!).
“These are the profiles of everyone we swiped right on.” He flips to the next one.
“These are our matches.” Dear god, there’s a third tab.
“These are printouts of all the messages we’ve sent so far, along with my notes on how compatible I think you’d be. There’s some real potential here.”
“Wait a second, I only have five matches. Why did I see two extra people in here? And how do you have all this printed out—” My eyes cut to him as it dawns on me, but he’s not looking me in the eye anymore.
His guilty gaze trained on the floor is all the confirmation I need.
“Julian. Did you…did you steal my login info?!”
“‘Steal’ is a loaded word.” He sets the binder down on the coffee table. I narrow my eyes at him, because that’s not exactly a denial. “You forgot to log off your account on my phone. What was I supposed to do?”
“Julian.” I can’t tell if I’m surprised or angry or exasperated. All three, I decide. I think I’ll always be all three with him around.
His face reddens as he rubs the back of his neck. “I like to think of it as being proactive. But you’re right, I should’ve asked for your permission first.”
“Yeah, you should have.” I shake my head. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“The short answer is I was thinking it might speed up the process if I disregarded privacy laws until we met up again and I could show you what I found.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “But really, I was thinking of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” he says. “What you would think of each profile I came across. What interests you had in common, how you’d look together. I even scripted a few first messages you can use to break the ice. Let me show you. Please.”
I try to stay mad, but I can’t quite hold on to the feeling.
Even when I cross my arms over my chest, the only emotion left inside me is…
curiosity. Is it his sheepish charm that makes me want to cave?
Or the way he bulldozed his way into my life with all the warmth of a brilliant sunshine that makes me forget to be angry about the wreckage left in his wake?
The wreckage he’ll make of me, the longer I let him into my life.
When I let out a sigh, it’s one of defeat. If I’m going to accept this, the least I can do is put up an exasperated front. “Fine. Show me the damn binder. But just know this incident will be going on your permanent record.”
A flicker of surprise crosses his features before it melts into a blinding smile. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice when he says, “Yes, ma’am.”
He rushes forward with the binder, handing it to me before entering my bedroom. I don’t even blink when he comes back with tape and thumbtacks. What’s a little more bulldozing at this point?
He’s my friend.
If he has to be anything to me, he suits as my friend. Regardless of the fact that he practically foisted himself on me. I keep my circles small as a rule, but maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to open up that circle a little more. Let Julian in.
Friends.
I test the word in my mind, on my tongue as I mouth the word to myself. Let it fill the hollowness inside my chest. We can be friends.
We’ve only managed to move the couch out of the way when the front door swings open, revealing a confused Bella and hyperactive Mari.
The former walks forward cautiously, as if coming home to a ransacked apartment.
The latter immediately jumps up on the askew couch, which is half out on the balcony, half blocking the TV stand.
That’s the way of kids Mari’s age. One day you’re driving them to the ER in a panic, the next they’re hopping onto the furniture good as new.
“What is going on? Oh—” Bella stops short when she notices Julian for the first time, currently standing on a stool and tacking faces to the wall. He gives a short wave before continuing what he’s doing. She turns back to me, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Care to tell me what’s going on here?”
I evaded her text about Julian and never got around to explaining the situation in person when she got home from the ER.
When I came out of my room for dinner, I found them asleep on the couch, Mari splayed out on top of her mother.
I couldn’t avoid her questions for long, though.
Yesterday she cornered me after work with a home-cooked meal and a glass of wine that smelled of deceit.
I knew the display was too good to be true when she said I could only have a plate after an explanation.
“All part of the dating app takeover plan,” I tell her, squinting at the wall. “Who knew my love life needed this amount of work?”
“I did.” Her smirk is pure evil before her expression changes to bewilderment as she examines the chaos that is our living room again. “But I agree, this might be overkill even for you.”
She makes a grab for the jumping four-year-old, who lets out an earsplitting screech for seemingly no reason.
I don’t even flinch, but Julian nearly stumbles off his stool.
I’m sure it’s a sound he thinks he’ll never get used to, but over the years I’ve learned the art of blocking out screaming demon children.
Bella sets down the screaming toddler on the carpet, taking out Mari’s favorite blue bunny from her bag to distract her.
“There’s a method to my madness,” Julian says, climbing down from his stool to introduce himself to Bella. “Nice to meet you.”
She ignores his extended hand, crossing her arms over her chest and looking him up and down as if taking his measure. “I hope you’re taking care of my girl, here.”
“Don’t mind her playing the part of protective best friend, even when it’s not needed,” I tell him. “She knows there’s nothing going on between us. At least, not anymore.”
“Which means I know all about the worst relived date in history,” Bella adds.
“Ouch.” He places a hand over his chest, faux-wounded. “It wasn’t really that bad, was it?” He glances at me in question.
“Not red-flag bad,” I hedge. “It was…mediocre bad.”
Is it me, or do his eyes dim just a bit? A sour, guilty feeling fills my stomach. I’m not sure I could even accurately describe the date as mediocre. I clear my throat, unable to look at him after what feels like lying to him.
“She’s had worse. Trust me.”
I stick my tongue out at Bella, because I am a mature twenty-six-year-old woman. And because she’s equally as mature, she sticks hers out right back at me. “All right, that’s enough fun for one evening. I’ve gotta get this one some dinner and then off to bed.”
“Don’t act like you’re not gonna be eavesdropping from three feet away the entire time.” I shoot her a mock-glare.
“In that case, feel free to raise your voices so I can hear better.” She smirks before making her way into the kitchen.
By the time Julian and I are finished, the top row is tacked with profiles of everyone Julian swiped right on.
Below that are people I’ve matched with, and directly under each picture are printouts of our message exchanges.
I take my time reading them, marveling at how in-depth Julian’s line of questioning is while pretending to be me.
But the only person up here I feel any connection to is Nathaniel, which makes sense because he’s the only one I’ve messaged myself.
I find his profile on the wall and read through it again.
Nathaniel believes in soulmates and that chivalry is far from dead.
A grad student studying finance, he loves to travel, hike, and make life into an adventure.
Over the past couple of days of messaging inconsistently, he’s made me laugh twice.
“All right, don’t go getting lovestruck on me yet,” Julian says, to which I roll my eyes. I’d hardly call myself lovestruck over Nathaniel. “You’ve got a few more matches to inspect.”
Not only is he right, but the competition is also steep. They all seem great in their own, unique ways. If they don’t believe in soulmates, they’re each looking for committed relationships and to settle down in the next stage of their lives.
“I know I said the other day that Nathaniel was in the lead, but I think I can picture you best with her.” He points to the profile of a woman named Anerie. She comes from a military family, has lived in twelve countries, worked a handful off odd jobs, and—
“She’s a gamer!” I let out a squeal. When that isn’t enough to let out my excitement, I throw my arms around Julian’s neck in a hug tighter than I intend.
He’s stiff from surprise at first, but then reciprocates.
He chuckles near my ear as his arms wrap around my back, the sound vibrating against my skin.
I melt into the warmth of him, the spice of his cologne filling my nostrils.
I resist the urge to inhale, belatedly realizing this hug has lasted approximately thirty seconds too long.
I clear my throat past the sudden tension in the air. When I look up, Bella’s expression is too knowing for its own good. My arms fall back to my sides, and Julian takes a careful step back from me.
“You’re surprisingly good at this.” I’m not sure what possesses me to playfully punch his arm. Maybe it’s a method of alleviating the tension still present in my chest cavity. “Good work, pal.”
Bella has to hide a laugh with a fake cough, overselling the bit by pounding a fist on her chest. Luckily, Julian doesn’t seem to notice.
“Anytime,” he says. “Let me know if any of them work out.”
“I will,” I say, overwhelmed with gratitude.
“I can’t believe you did all this. Granted, some of it was without my knowledge or consent, but still.
” I shake my head, unable to understand it.
I’ve done nothing to deserve this from him.
In fact, I’ve been nothing but an asshole to him ever since our second first date.
I should apologize, but would it be too little too late?
“Don’t mention it. Seriously.” He taps my foot with his. “It’s enough to see you happy.”
Somehow, that only makes me feel worse. Bella is practically swooning behind him, which doesn’t help my case. That guilty feeling persists long after he leaves, and I have no idea what to do about it.