Page 113 of The Mismatch

Her eyes widened. She locked her phone and tucked it under her duvet. Contemplating why she felt so excited, but also terrified, she took a long sip of her now lukewarm drink.

Oliver was at work so she couldn’t run to his room to spiral about it. Not being able to do so made her feel as though she was matching with him secretly. The compulsion to tell someone, anyone, was enormous.

Her phone pinged.

Jacob has sent you a message.

CHAPTER 54

Soraya

London, 2015

Soraya sat opposite Jacob in a quaint Italian restaurant in Peckham. When she had suggested going for a drink, he’d said he didn’t drink alcohol. At this, she felt embarrassed. As the Muslim surely she should be the one to say that. Except, if she followed the rules, she wouldn’t be on Tinder talking to, and subsequently meeting, a boy.

‘How come you’re on Tinder then?’ he asked once the customary small talk had passed.

‘You know, to meet new people.’ As soon as she said the words, she wished she could swallow them. Did ‘people’ make it sound like she was dating multiple men? And if that’s what it sounded like, was that a good or a bad thing? ‘What about you?’ she asked.

He smiled, his teeth almost too white and straight, the candlelight casting shadows on his face.

‘Honestly? I want to meet someone, for something serious.’ He shrugged. ‘I know that’s not really what you’re meant to say, but whatever.’

Her mouth was suddenly dry. With soft music, dim lights and traditional gingham tablecloths, the restaurant was aperfect date spot. Perfect perhaps for the characters in the books she read. They would have swooned.

She pinched her thigh under the table, squeezed the flesh hard. Her nails over the past weeks had become so soft and stumpy from being bitten that she was giving them a break today. Had to because she was scared about what was happening to them.

‘I mean it’s good to be honest,’ she said. ‘I feel like there’s this weird stigma around just saying you want a relationship.’

‘Exactly,’ he said, his blue eyes glittering. ‘That said, I’m more than happy to have fun in the meantime.’

The waitress brought them their drinks and he took a sip of his sparkling water.

‘How come you don’t drink alcohol anyway?’

‘I like to keep a clear head.’

‘How come?’

He laughed. ‘You say that like wanting to keep a clear head isn’t normal?’

‘It’s just you seem like you’d want to drink.’ As the words came out of her mouth she regretted them, again. ‘I mean you’re a … young man.’ More regret. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘Please expand.’ He folded his small but well-defined arms and looked at her. He had freckles all the way down to his wrists. She had never seen anyone with that many before. They gave him a boyish quality.

‘I don’t want to.’ Soraya was smiling, despite herself.

He leant forward. ‘Why not?’

‘I was stereotyping. It’s something I do a lot, I’ve realised.’

‘And what would you stereotype me as?’

She couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

‘A bit of a hipster, I guess.’

He laughed loudly. ‘What was that?’