Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“You had sex?” I ask.
She giggles in that Lexi-like way. “Dee!”
“Since when is that an inappropriate question?”
“We’re supposed to prep for lunch with Willa.”
Screw prep. No, get through prep ASAP. I toss her the first question on the list. “What’s MeetCute’s motto?”
“We know you better than you know yourself.”
“And how are we sure?”
She quotes the relevant statistics about our match rates. “And I, Lexi Huntington, am the picture of a woman who couldn’t find Mr. Right. Really, I dated a lot of guys, but it wasn’t until the algo worked its magic that I found a serious relationship.”
There’s no magic, but it feels like magic. That’s my motto. Only it doesn’t sound right anymore.
“That’s as far as I’ll go.” Lexi stands firm. “Maybe we’ll get engaged or married. Maybe we’ll break up in a month. Either way, I found a serious relationship, and that’s a first for me.”
“I love it.” I throw my arms around her, relieved and proud all at once. My sister is happy, and we have our poster couple, all in one. “It’s perfect.”
“You’re supposed to object.” She shakes her head and moves into the bathroom.
“Why?” I ask. From my spot in the main room, I watch her fix her makeup, my curiosity piqued.
“So I can throw your meddling in your face,” she says. “And counter you with some meddling of my own.”
“Why would you do that?” I ask.
“Because you’re totally in love with River,” she says.
No. Maybe. I’m not sure what it means to love someone, not anymore. I care about him, I want the best for him, I feel an ache when he’s away. Maybe that’s love.
I need a rubric. A score sheet.
There must be one, somewhere.
“And he…” She finishes with her brow liner and motions for me to come over. “Let me do your makeup. Some neutrals Willa will like so she respects one of us.” She rolls her eyes in that Lexi-like way I recognize.
She hates when people assume she’s dumb because she loves pink, but she really hates when women do it. Because that’s just internalized misogyny.
I don’t see the disrespect she gets from Willa, but I don’t argue with her. If she feels out of place, she feels out of place. I understand that feeling. Even if I can barely imagine Lexi out of place anywhere.
I meet my sister in the bathroom and take the spot on the marble counter. It feels familiar. Something we did as kids a million times.
She swipes shadow over my eyes, then the brows, the bronzer, the mascara. The same familiar steps.
When she finishes with my lipstick, I ask, “Was it good?”
She smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her. “Amazing. It’s true what people say. It feels different when you love someone. And after six months, I was so fucking horny. I came like a waterfall.”
There’s my sister.
“And you and River are so cute,” she says. “But there’s something we have to talk about there.”
“I know he isn’t staying forever,” I say. “I know he’s going back to New York eventually.”
“No.” She pauses, steps back, takes a big, deep breath. “It’s not that.”
That’s the elephant in the room. Or the, uh, I don’t know…something in the something. That’s the issue between us.
“It’s the app.”
“What about it?”
“He signed up,” she says. “With a fake name, yeah, but it’s clear it’s him. And Willa might notice, if she’s been looking at the backend stuff, looking at our matches.”
People who get access to the code always want to see the matches of people they know. But— “What’s that matter?”
Sadness fills her eyes. “Listen, Dee, I know you believe in the algo. I know you think it’s magic—”
“It’s not magic.”
“Like magic, whatever, but maybe it’s not perfect. Maybe it needs more help.”
What is she talking about?
She leaves the bathroom, finds her phone in her purse, returns.
And I figure it out the second she unlocks her screen. But it’s different, seeing it on the screenshot.
The perfect algo, the one that helped Lexi find love for the first time in her life, has spoken.
And it can say, with 100 percent confidence:
River and I are not a match.
We have less than a 30 percent chance of success.
That’s the worst match I’ve seen on my profile.
We’re doomed.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Deanna
The image stays burned into my brain.
The picture of River, slipping his hand into the pocket of his jeans, the familiar lines of ink on his wrist. The comic-inspired flower.
And the fake name on the screen. Ocean Ty. A play on River Beau. A stupid play. Because what’s funny about any of this?
Lexi offers strategic possibilities, but I barely register any of them. It doesn’t make sense. The algo is good. It’s working for her. It’s working for everyone.
There’s something wrong with me.
I’m the problem.
I’m the one who isn’t fit for love or connection or forever.
The rest of the app proves it. He has plenty of high matches. I have none.