The Girlfriend Game by Sierra Hill
Four
Kendall
“Don’t be mad at me,” my twin sister, Kerry, says with an innocent smile across her identical face. “But I signed you up for a dating site.”
I’ve barely sat down across the restaurant table from her when she shoves her phone in my face and shocks me with this unexpected announcement. Kerry is prone to do that and has on many occasions since childhood.
I sputter out my response, my voice careening ten octaves higher than normal. “You did what?”
She gives me an exaggerated eye roll, a specialty of hers. As if I’m the crazy one and she’s perfectly sane. Although we share the same genetic makeup and DNA, we couldn’t be more wildly different from one another, the only identical attributes being our physical appearance.
While I was getting my education and earning my PhD, Kerry married her high school sweetheart and started a family. She’s now the mother of three, her oldest is twelve and youngest is five. She loves being a mom to her kids. And second to that, loves to meddle in my love life.
Kerry cocks her head to the side, propping her chin in her palm and smiles angelically at me. No wonder she chose a public place. She knew if there were witnesses around, it would keep me from strangling her.
Joke’s on her. I reach over the table and wrap my hands around her slim throat, acting out the thrill of choking my sister. She pulls out of my grip and laughs.
“You know Mom and Dad’s fortieth anniversary is coming up this summer,” she asserts, as if I have no earthly knowledge of this event. “The only thing they want is to see you happy and settled down with your forever man. Which means your only course of action is to begin looking for that boyfriend, like yesterday.”
I close my eyes, willing myself not to scream out in frustration, counting to ten to soothe my irritation. When I open them again, my patience has been restored, at least somewhat. But my voice remains taut and strained, the words ripping free from my throat like a pulled bungee cord snapping loose.
“Kerry,” I warn. “My happiness is not contingent on a man. You know this. On top of which, I also am not beholden to a boyfriend or a husband if I wish to start a family.” Leaning over the table, I cup the side of my mouth in a sarcastic whisper. “There are these things called sperm banks. They come in very handy. Oh, and there’s also this lovely method called adoption. So many options for single, spinster but happy women like me.”
I shift back in my chair and slowly unravel my scarf from around my neck, steam practically rising from my body.
Kerry reaches across the table and grabs my hand, patting my knuckles with her palm. “Kenny, do you really want to go that route? I mean, honestly, honey. It’s so”--she flicks a hand in the air—“sterile and clinical.”
“Practical,” I argue.
I yank my hand from her grip and gesture with my hands out to the side. “Look who you’re talking to. I’m the queen of clinical. Maybe the process of having a child in that manner seems untraditional and revolutionary to you and our mother, but I’m happy with my choices. And seriously, the chance of finding a man on a dating app who is down with having a family with me is slim to none.”
She harrumphs, her way of acknowledging my point, but not agreeing with it. We may be identical twins, but that doesn’t mean we share the same opinions or views.
I love Kerry dearly. She’s my best friend and closest confidant in the world, but the one area in which we clearly diverge is in our viewpoints on family. She rejects the idea that I could possibly be happy remaining single all my life.
Truthfully, of course I want to find love. But I’ve pushed that need away for so long now, I’m practically immune to the idea of dating. I’ve been doing just fine this far. Why fix what ain’t broke?
In fact, dating sounds like exhausting work. I expend enough energy in my day job. It’s physically and emotionally demanding, even on the best days. I’m not sure I’d have enough energy in my reserves to handle a relationship well at all.
Now that I’ve reached the pinnacle of my career and published my book, I’ve made room in my life to accomplish my next goal, the one desire I’ve put on the back burner for years—motherhood. To have a child of my own. I’m nearing my thirty-fifth birthday and I’m ready to start that next chapter in my life.
With or without a man.
But my lovely and adamant sister is tenacious and never gives up.
“Kendall, please. Just give this dating app two weeks. I think you’ll find it worth your time. Plus, I’ve already done all the hard work for you. I’ve set up your account, had it verified, and created your profile.” She grins as if expecting a standing ovation or an award for her troubles.
“What?” I snatch the phone out of her hand and stare down at the screen, fear slamming into my heart that she used my photo for the profile picture. Not that I’d know from personal experience, but I’ve heard from my clients who have been on these things and there is no way in hell I want any of my clients to accidentally run across my profile. “You can’t do that, Kerry. This could ruin my reputation as a professional. Goddamn you.”
She scoffs, her face downcast as if I’ve hurt her. “Duh…I know that, Kenny. That’s why I set you up on this elite dating app. It’s called Heart and Soul and it was created specifically for professionals like you who don’t need their real identity splashed over the internet.”
I barely listen as she continues to blather on about the site’s security features and how it protects the identities of its users. Instead, I zone out, worrying over the possibility someone will find out it’s me.
“And the good news is you’ve already matched with two potential men. Isn’t that great?”
My attention flies back to my sister, my eyes widening with incredulity.
“Oh, my God. You are the most intrusive and annoying sister ever,” I complain, slumping down in my chair, dropping my face to my chest. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“You’ll thank me soon enough, sis. Just look.” She smiles cheerfully, holding the phone up to proudly show me the information like it’s part of a prize-worthy collection of art she purchased on eBay. “Your online profile name is The Other Sister…because, duh…you are. And these are the two potential suitors you’ve matched with. Tech God and Mountain Man.”
I groan to stifle my laughter. “Absolutely not. Their profile names already tell me everything I need to know about these two. Tech God? Seriously. Either he’s an ego maniac douchebag or a rich and boring nerd who plays video games for a living. And Mountain Man? Eww. I bet his beard reaches the floor and he only wears flannel. Plus, he likely owns a secret cabin in the woods where he dismantles the heads of his victims.”
My body quivers with disgust, but Kerry waves me away with annoyance. “Nonsense. They are both so sweet and charming in our email exchanges so far. It’s been fun getting to know them. Personally, I think you’ll really like Mountain Man. He just sounds so…down-to-earth and yummy. I bet he could use that ax of his…”
I reach across the table and swat my hand across her mouth, glaring at her as her eyes sparkle in sheer delight. She’s totally enjoying this scene while I’m perfectly mortified.
“Do not finish that sentence,” I warn, glaring at her as I release my hand and she blows me a kiss.
“Fine. I won’t. But just do me this one, teeny tiny favor, sis. Just go home tonight and read through the message exchanges up to this point. If anything, I bet you’ll find it more entertaining than those boring psychology articles you read and write.”
“I doubt that.”
Later on,as I tuck my bare feet underneath me to settle in on my couch, I stare at the pile of paperwork and groan. Kerry is right about one thing. The wine glass in my hand and the phone on the table offer me a much more titillating time tonight than my research work.
And I’ll admit, the messages my sister talked about exchanging with the two men do sound much more entertaining than the latest articles on dissociative disorders I have to read for an upcoming conference.
I sigh to myself, bringing the glass of wine to my lips and taking a sip. I pick up the phone and open the heart icon app that my sister downloaded today before she left me, entering the account logon credentials with a grumble. Why am I subjecting myself to this torture?
I mean, seriously. Dating is just so…unnecessary. And time consuming. I have no problem imagining myself having a child through unconventional means without having to resort to a dating app to find my soulmate. My end game can be fulfilled without the need to find a boyfriend or husband to be the father of my child.
But a lover wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.
And that’s probably all I’ll find on a dating app anyhow. The chance that a man is truly in search of his future wife on this app is highly unlikely. Based on what I’ve heard from some of my clients—both men and women—most have used these apps simply for elicit affairs or quick fucks with no strings attached.
But I happen to love my sister and out of a sense of duty and obligation, and maybe even a dash of hopeful innocence, I bring up the bios and profiles of my two boyfriend prospects.
A quick review of Tech God makes me want to hurl my phone against the wall. His comments are juvenile, at best, and clearly bordering on obscene. I bet he was a self-made millionaire software developer who earned his fortune in the gaming world by age twenty-two. I wouldn’t be surprised if his next message isn’t a cleverly disguised dick pic.
Sure enough, there it is. Not a picture per se, but his comments about being long and hard…well, it’s crass and disgusting.
I click Delete.
Next.
Mountain Man. Okay, I’ll admit this one does appeal to me a bit more. As I peruse his interests and hobbies, I find that we do seem like a good match.
He attended college and earned a degree in Business Communications.
He plays sports. Enjoys hiking, mountain trekking, mountain biking, camping, road trips with no destination in mind, classic rock music, and reading memoirs. He says the demands of his job have prevented him from finding a lasting relationship thus far.
Okay, that’s all positive.
I love that he enjoys outdoor activities. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, my family spent endless summers outside, exploring the water, the mountains, and everything in between. I grew up around a campfire and having hiking adventures along the Cascade Mountain trails. It’s the one thing I would enjoy about having a companion. Getting to spend the day on a hike in the wilderness and then locating an isolated spot to camp and chill together. And even fool around.
Something in my chest clenches and then flutters loose when I read his message.
Mountain Man: I’m single – obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be on a dating site. I shouldn’t have to say that, but I’m making it clear from the start. I’m a professional whose career keeps me out on the road quite a bit of the year. Which is a drag and has some big disadvantages, one of them being that I’m single and have to use a dating site. Truth be told, I’m not even sure I’m a hundred percent comfortable being here. But I digress.
As you might ascertain from my profile name, I like the outdoors. Although, despite not having a profile pic, I DO NOT look like a Mountain Man. I’m not a creepy dude who lives a solitary life out in the woods. (But no judgies if you like that sort of thing.) I enjoy being outdoors as frequently as I can. I’d say my number one requirement in finding someone to spend time with is a woman who has a sense of adventure and loves to explore this area. Oh, and another thing to clear up, in case it’s not obvious, is that I am a man seeking female companionship.
I chuckle at this. I like the fact that he doesn’t make assumptions.
My favorite book is On the Road by Jack Kerouac and I have an unusual habit of pulling out quotes and using them in everyday life. It drives my friends nuts. I enjoy a good debate and a woman who likes to eat. I also like to cook when I have the time.
Your profile seems like you’re a driven and ambitious woman. Tell me more about yourself, starting with dogs or cats.
I finish reading his short but informative message and find myself smiling. Mountain Man seems to be laidback in his approach to life, but also has a good head on his shoulders. And a cute sense of humor. He’s upfront and honest, a quality I admire and desire. Selfishly, I’m glad he doesn’t look like a full-on Mountain Man. Not that it would be a deal breaker, but it could be a drawback. Nothing worse than seeing food stuck in a man’s facial hair.
I pull the laptop onto my lap where I can type much easier and give thought to how I want to respond.
The Other Sister: Dogs. Always dogs. Although there is something to be said about the cat’s perceptive qualities. A dog won’t notice if a human doesn’t want to touch them. They’ll just go balls to the wall for affection. Cats, though, they know things and are in tune to the human’s willingness to give or refrain from attention. So, I guess I’d consider myself more like a cat, if you will.
Let’s talk about that beard of yours…