Page 32 of How to Win the Girl

But I will try to help him, and apparently, he doesn’t know what he needs the way I know what he needs.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted. I think you should meet this girl. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” He squints at me. “When have you ever called a girl cool?”

“Since never. Which is my point, and for the record, she’s in one of your classes, too.”

“Which class?”

“Uh, the one you’re making me sit through? I pissed her off one night because my knee was digging into her chair, and then I saw her on the dating app and swiped on her.”

“You swiped on her even though you pissed her off?”

“I mean, I swiped on her so I could tell her what a bitch she was being, but she wasn’t a raging bitch on the app, so I guess she’ll do.”

“She’ll do,” my brother deadpans, turning his back on me so he can continue gluing. “You sure are romantic.”

“I can be if I want. I just don’t want.”

Drew snorts. “That couldn’t be more obvious.”

“What’s the point of me being on this dating app if you’re not going to date the girls I select for you?”

Drew laughs. “Dude. Give me a hot second; let me get through this midterm and get this project turned in. Then I can breathe.”

Fair enough. “Fine. I’ll give you a few more days, then I’m setting up a date for you.”

Drew rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t protest. “I’ll go on a date with her. I need’ta get this shit handled, or I’ll fail.”

I nod. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

It’s not a no, it’s a “later,” which I can deal with for the time being. All he has to do is leave it to me.

I can keep the fire burning until he’s ready to fan the flame.

Ew.

Did I just say that in my brain?Fan the flame?

Barf.

I leave my brother to his class project, taking a container of leftovers out of the fridge before I go to my bedroom across the hall from Ryann, my older brother's girlfriend.

I give a knock before sticking my head inside her half-open door.

She hasn’t changed it much since he moved out; I think she feels weird about taking this room instead of Drew or I occupying it, but she did add a few girly pillows to the bed and photos of my brother to the desk.

“Knock, knock.”

Ryann turns in the desk chair, swiveling in my direction. “What’s up?” She pulls off a pair of computer glasses.

“Nothing. Just checking to see if you’re here.”

She grins. “I’m here.”

Ryann is a senior and half out the metaphorical door, so it made sense for her to move out of her apartment and into our house, where the rent is cheaper than she was paying and the company way better.

Ha.

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