Page 20 of How to Win the Girl

“Hmm.” I pause on the photo of a guy wearing glasses, arms around the neck of a black lab. “There is no way you’re over the age of eighteen.”

Swipe left.

Left.

I stop short on another guy who looks promising. He likes to read, travel, and his major is biochem, but he doesn’t go here. He was in town visiting a buddy.

Ugh. “Sorry, Mark, I’m not looking for a long-distance anything.”

Moving right along…

Ben, Brennan, Kevin, David.

No.

Stephan, yes.

Derek, Peter, Riley, no.

I’m on a roll now, finger fast and brain going a mile a minute.

“Greggory,yes.” Cutie.

Dylan, yes.

Drew, yes.

The words YOU ARE A MATCH! light up my screen, his face and mine make a collage.

Drew?

NO! WE ARE NOT A MATCH.

We are oil and water.

He is annoying and rude—I am serious and driven.

Drew WhatsHisFace that Isabelle was losing her mind over?

NO!

God no.

Ew.

“Shit!” Double dammit, I hadn’t meant to swipe on the asshole from my class! Crap, crap, CRAP! Ew, he’s going to think I have the hots for him. Lies! Idetesthim based on principle alone. “How do I reverse this?”

Shit crackers.

Calm down, Daisy. It’s just an app, not a marriage commitment. “Besides, he probably won’t even message me. Why would he swipe on me? He was glaring at me every time I turned around in my chair.”

True story. “Maybe he doesn’t recognize me since I was wearing a ball cap.”

I shake out my long hair. I’d pulled it back into a messy knot at my nape, but it’s turned to frizz in the humidity.

“I can just unmatch him.” We all make mistakes. “This was obviously an accident and not the part of my subconscious that secretly finds him attractive.”

And now I’m talking to myself—again.

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