Travis’s Little Annoying Sis: Good … Can I call you for a second?
Me: For what?
Travis’s Little Annoying Sis: The breakup advice you offered earlier. I want to hear it.
Me: I’m no longer interested in giving it to you. Call Travis and get some from him. I’m sure he’d love to know that you had a boyfriend in the first place.
Travis’s Little Annoying Sis: *middle finger emoji* *vomit emoji* *suck my dick gif* Sorry for even trying with you. I’ll wait until one of my friends wakes up.
Me: If you have “friends,” why didn’t you ask one of them to pick you up tonight?
* * *
She doesn’t answer, and as much as I’m ready to end all communication with her forever, I can’t help but think about why she didn’t call someone else. Why she’s never asked me to drop her off at anyone else’s house, any movies, anything non-figure-skating related over the past few months.
Between her twelve-hour practice days and her tutoring sessions, she’s only gone to school a few times a week to take tests and turn in assignments.
I have to be missing something.
When I make it to my car, I open the glove box and rummage through papers for Travis’s ‘Things You Need to Help Penelope (Crown) with While I’m Gone’ list.
On the back, listed next to number thirteen, is a line I previously overlooked. It stands out more than ever now:
* * *
13. Help her find some friends.
Our mom was her BFF/Coach/Everything before the accident, so … I know it’ll be hard, but can you introduce her to the *women* on your app team sometime?
* * *
She doesn’t have a single friend.
Against my better judgment, I return her text.
Me: I’ll give you two minutes. Call me whenever.
My phone buzzes instantly.
“My advice is super simple,” I answer, getting straight to the point. “Any guy who really cares about you—especially a college guy, wouldn’t invite you to his room for Valentine’s Day, or any other special nights. He’d try to make a bigger effort than that.”
“You mean, he would ask to come over to my place?”
“No, he would—” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “You’re a virgin, right?”
“I mean, technically. A few of my ex-boyfriends have gone down on me, and I’ve also—”
“I don’t want to hear the rest of that sentence.” I cut her off. “Ever. You’re a virgin, so let’s leave it at that. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, if this particular guy truly wanted you, he would’ve made your first time a lot more special. Did he treat you to a nice dinner first?”
“He took me to Burger King.”
“What about reservations for a nice breakfast somewhere tomorrow, then?”
“He said he would take me to Starbucks.” Her voice is soft. “He did have champagne and strawberries for tonight, though.”
“He probably bought that stuff at one of the frat house ‘V-Day for your Girl’ sales,” I say. “They sell that shit for super cheap since one of the founders owns a distillery in town. I mean, that’s how it was when I went there.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” I crank my engine. “Don’t take the next guy you date at his word, okay? You have a lot of shit going on in your life, and you can’t trust any of the boys out here.”
“You mean, boys like you?”
“Yeah, exactly,” I say. “Boys like me. Take it from someone who has mastered the game and has no intention of ever retiring.
“Wow.” She lets out a light laugh. “Thank you very much, Hayden.”
“You’re very welcome. Bye.” I end the call and start to power off my phone, but she calls me again.
“Look.” I answer. “That’s all the advice I have to give you.”
“I’m calling because I have some for you,” she says. “You need a better name and a home page for your dating app. That’s a huge part of what you’re missing.”
“What?”
“Your dating app.” She speaks a little louder. “You need to name it something different and give it a sleeker home page. I mean, that’s what I’ve heard from my physical therapist who uses it.”
Silence.
“Are you there?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “You don’t think the name ‘Burning for You’ works?”
“Not unless you’re advertising ‘burning’ after sex.” There was a smile in her voice. “You would know a lot about that though, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m blocking your number after tonight.”
“Speaking of other things that don’t work,” she continues to talk. “That ‘Rate Your Top Picks’ sucks. Oh, and so does the ‘little black book’ thing where people can keep up with their conquests. That’s a disgusting feature, and it makes me gag whenever I see it.”
“Your physical therapist seems to know a lot about my app.”
“She’s rooting for you to fail at life.”
“I see.” I smile. “I’m headed back towards your part of town in a few. Do you mind if I stop by to get more of your therapist’s feedback?”