Page 14 of Irresistibly Us
Me
I’m now making plans in my head for an epic road trip. Stay tuned.
Amelia
I’m counting the actual minutes. Love you, Soph.
Me
Love you too.
I put my phone down on my desk and kick back in my office chair with a grin. What an excellent fucking day. Everything is finalized for the robotics competition a week early, which is basically unheard of in the world of Sophie Sullivan—I’m a last-minute sort of girl. I got to troubleshoot a coding issue, which is one of my favorite things in the world, and a jelly bean restock is on its way to me just when I was running low.
All I need is a Broadway stage and a microphone, and it would be the best day ever. I would even settle for off-Broadway. Or local theater. Fuck, I miss performing. I was in my first play when I was five and fell deeply, head over heels in love with it. I went to a performing arts high school and double majored in theater and computer science in college.
I always figured I would keep one foot in that world, but then I started working at my dad’s foundation, and when I fell in love with the work we do, theater kind of fell by the wayside. Cam’s daughter, Riley, and my Aunt Olivia’s daughter, my cousin Zoe, are both freshman at Fieldston, the same performing arts high school I went to, and since they started there earlier this year, I’ve been thinking about doing some volunteering at the school to get back into the theater world. I make another mentalnote—my fifth of the day by my count—to check out alumni volunteer opportunities.
This girl needs a stage.
I’m falling into a delightful daydream about taking a bow to the sounds of a standing ovation when my phone chimes. My feet drop to the floor, and I sit straight up in my chair because that’s not just any chime.
It’s the VibeCheck notification.
I eye my phone cautiously, as if it might grow fangs. That notification has haunted me in the ten days since I created my profile. I thought maybe the fact that it’s an anonymous app means there would be fewer freaks and weirdos than the average dating app, but in the almost two weeks I’ve been back from New Orleans, I’ve gotten, among other things, five extremely unsolicited dick pics, threeWanna fuck?texts, endlesswyd?messages and, unnervingly, one request for a picture of my feet.
The audacity of men, I swear to fucking god. I think we should throw them all away and start from scratch because they are really not sending their best.
I now understand why Maya is always complaining about the dating pool and am sort of regretting every one of my life choices that led to me signing up for one of these apps in the first place. I really should just delete the damn thing and call it a failed experiment.
Without my permission, my eyes stray to the scatter of picture frames on my office bookshelf, landing directly on one of Tyler and me from the day the Renegades won the AFC championship a few weeks ago. The massive, beaming grin on his face and his arm looped around my shoulders, tugging me into him, along with the way I’m looking up at him and beaming back make my stomach flip, and no. No way. No stomach flipping over Tyler allowed.
Digging into the bowl on my desk, I toss a handful of jelly beans into my mouth, letting the familiar buttered popcorn andtoasted marshmallow flavors soothe me. Gross? Maybe. My favorite candy of all time? Absolutely yes.
Properly fortified, I take a sip from my ever-present pink water bottle and then one from the slightly warm Dr Pepper can sitting next to it before picking up my phone. I click into the VibeCheck app with one eye closed to at least partially shield myself from whatever grossness I’m about to encounter. When I see I only have one message, I breathe a sigh of relief because even if it’s weird, at least it’s only one.
The request is from the usernameRenegadeRush, and I figure that even though there’s a reasonable chance it’s something gross, the odds might be tilted just slightly in my favor because Renegades fans are the best fans. Takes one to know one. With a deep breath and a prayer to the goddess of dating apps, I click to accept the message.
RenegadeRush
A love that defies gravity, huh? Theater fan?
It’s not a request for a picture of my feet, so we’re already off to a good start. Flexing my metaphorical fingers, I prepare to bring my A-game to this conversation. Then I decide that A-game might be aiming too high. Not one single man on this app is bringing his A-game, so I really shouldn’t waste my energy. I mentally downgrade my aspirations to a solid B-minus performance.
ChaosQueen
Whatever gave you that idea?
RenegadeRush
Every time I hear Idina Menzel sing the line “And if I’m flying solo, at least I’m flying free,” I get chills.
ChaosQueen
You know your Wicked.
RenegadeRush
Bet your ass I do. Are you surprised?
