So after that I tried to properly focus on their appearances. Their faces, their eyes, their mouths, their hair, their style. These were the things you were supposed to like. What did I like? What was my standard? What were my preferences?
After ten minutes of this, I stumbled upon a guy who looked like a model, so I was unsurprised when I looked at his info and read ‘Jack, 18, Model’。 He had a sharp-cut jawline and a symmetrical face. His main photo was clearly from a magazine advert he’d done.
I tried to picture myself dating Jack, 18, Model. Kissing him. Having sex.
Like, if it was gonna be anyone, based on appearance alone, surely it would be Jack, 18, Model, with his cool denim jacket and dimples.
Imagine kissing that face.
Imagine him leaning in.
Imagine his skin near you.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment. Trying to ignore the nauseated feeling in my stomach at the pictures I was conjuring in my head.
Then I swiped left.
Georgia Warr
hello fried egg i have an update
i swiped left on all of them lol Rooney Bach
Haha what do you mean all of them Georgia Warr
just all the ones i looked at Rooney Bach
And how many was that?
Georgia Warr
idk like … forty?
tinder isn’t for me i think lol
sorry to disappoint
Rooney Bach
I’m not disappointed haha I just hoped it would help FORTY
Wow!!
Okay!
Georgia Warr
so that’s a lot to swipe left on??
Rooney Bach
You really do have high standards
That’s not necessarily a bad thing but at least we’ve got that sussed Georgia Warr
so what do i do now
Rooney Bach
Might have to go back to good old-fashioned Meeting People In Real Life Georgia Warr
ew
hate that for me
I deleted Tinder from my phone, then hit play on About Time again, wondering why picturing myself in any sort of romantic or sexual situation made me feel like I was going to vom and/or run a mile, while romance in movies felt like the sole purpose of being alive.
Rooney was right about one thing: meeting people in real life was probably the only way this was going to work for me. Fortunately, it was Freshers’ Week, and I still had many opportunities to meet people, which continued on the Friday when Rooney and I went to the Freshers’ Fair.
‘I’m going to join so many societies,’ Rooney said, and I didn’t take her that seriously, but when we went round all the stalls in the Student Union building, she collected so many flyers that she made me start carrying some of them for her.
I’d arranged to meet Pip and Jason there too but wasn’t sure where to find them because the Student Union building was huge. They’d have to wait. The most important task at hand was joining university societies. Alongside clubbing, which I had epically failed at, societies were a staple of university life and supposedly one of the easiest ways to make friends with like-minded people.
But as we walked round the stalls, I started to feel nervous. Maybe a little overwhelmed. I tentatively signed up to English Soc with Rooney, but apart from that, I could barely even remember what I was interested in. Creative Writing Soc? I didn’t really enjoy writing that much – the few occasions I’d tried writing my own fanfic were disastrous. Film Soc? I could just watch movies in bed. There were even super-niche things like Anime Soc, Quidditch Soc and Snowboarding Soc, but they all seemed like they catered for a specific group of friends who just wanted an excuse to hang out and do their favourite hobby together. I didn’t know what my hobbies were any more, except yearning for romance and reading fanfiction.
In fact, the only other society I wanted to join was the Durham Student Theatre. I could see its giant stall at the end of the hall.
I’d definitely meet new people if I was in a play this year.
Rooney ended up walking on ahead, excited to chat to all the people on the stalls. I ambled along, feeling increasingly like I just didn’t really fit anywhere, until I realised I had reached the stall of Durham’s Pride Society.
It stood out boldly with a giant rainbow flag behind it and had quite a sizeable gathering of freshers standing near it, chatting excitedly to the older students behind the table.
I picked up one of their leaflets to have a look. Most of the front page was decorated with some of the identities it supported in arty fonts. The ones I knew well were at the top – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender – and then, to my surprise, it moved into ones I’d only really heard on the internet – pansexual, asexual, aromantic, non-binary. And more. I didn’t even know what some of them meant.