The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            Hallie: Thanks, asshole.

            Jack: Now, now. Also, make sure you visit the app today and search for your next date.

            Hallie pictured her speed dating matchups and shook her head, turned on the beside lamp and texted: That sounds awful.

            Jack: You go, I go. Let’s do this together, Piper. Mr. Right, the guy who likes you more than anyone else in the world, is out there, just waiting for your little thumb to swipe him just right.

            Hallie: Gross. The only way I’m going on another date already is if I can have Taco Hut afterward.

            Jack: That is actually a great idea. Let’s plan dates at the speed dating bar, and if they’re a bust we’ll get tacos after. Cheese on the bottom, of course.

            Hallie: Of course. Okay—why does that sound like a good idea? I’m pretty sure there’s a reason this is terrible and I’m just missing it.

            Jack: No, it’s genius. Make a connection today, and if a date is on the table, text me and we’ll plan accordingly.

            Hallie: Okay.

            Jack: Atta girl.

            Hallie: Why are you awake so early btw?

            Jack: I like to get in a run before work.

            Hallie: Same. But it’s SUNDAY. Why are you working on a Sunday?

            Jack: Because I have work to do.

            Hallie: Also please tell me you don’t wear those tiny little running shorts.

            Jack: Stop tryna picture me and my luscious thighs, perv.

            Hallie: Definitely not doing THAT.

            Jack: Wait, were you asking for a pic? Was that what that was?

            Hallie: Please don’t make me block you.

            Jack: Have a lovely day, TB.

            Hallie rolled out of bed and went for a run since she was already awake, and the entire time, she practiced what she was going to say to Ruthie when she returned later that day. I love living with you, but I really think it’s time for me to get my own place like an adult. We can still hang out all the time.

            Only Ruthie never came home that day. She sent a text around ten a.m. that read, Having too much fun to come back to the States—will be back next week, and Hallie wasn’t really surprised to discover that her roommate was out of the country.

            After showering post-run and going on a quick Starbucks jaunt, she settled into the couch and started scrolling. It took a while, but she found a guy whose profile looked good enough to swipe and began messaging.

            He seemed funny and nice, so when he asked if she wanted to meet up for dinner and drinks on Wednesday after work, she called Jack.

            He answered after one ring, but she wondered if he was working, because he said, “This is Jack.”

            “Hey, it’s Hallie. What’s up?”

            She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “I cannot believe you called me instead of texting, boomer.”

            “Do you have a sec?”

            “Of course,” he said, and she wondered if he was home or at the office.

            “Are you still working?” she asked.

            “Yeah, but I’m cutting out soon.”

            “Okay, well, I just had a guy ask me out on the app. Do you have any potential dates that you can do Wednesday night at six thirty-ish?”

            “Who’s the guy?”

            “His name is Stephen, he doesn’t hunt or fish, and he is a dentist. He’s into running, bingeing Netflix, and getting railed.”

            “Whoa, dentist? That’s a date with bonus points.”

            “Right? Although I’ll probably be worried the whole time that he’s checking out my plaque situation.”

            “ ‘Plaques and racks’—I bet that’s Stephen’s motto.”