TJGrand: No complaints here. Just got home from the game.
BlueBelle2001: Me too. I thought that might be you.
TJGrand: You know who I am?
I can’t hide my grin as I look over her profile pic. She’s a bombshell and out of my league. But second guessing myself is not something I indulge in much anymore.
BlueBelle2001: Of course, I know who you are. I look for you at every party on game night.
TJGrand: I’m flattered.
BlueBelle2001: I can’t believe I just admitted it. So, I’m new to this. How do you want to do it?
TJGrand: Do it?
BlueBelle2001: You know （winking face emoji）
The loud clink of beer bottles jars me from where I sit on the couch, and I look up to see Troy has just tapped Kevin’s bottle, forcing him to down it or it’ll overflow. It’s going to be another long night. Too stunned by the bombshell matter at hand, I stare at her last message, unsure of what to say. Is this girl really propositioning me so soon? It can’t be this simple. It happens all the time, random hookups through an app. It’s not news. But this would be my first time, literally.
TJGrand: What are you thinking?
That’s perfect, Theo, let her think she’s in control. But don’t give her too much.
BlueBelle2001: I could come to you.
“You have got to be shitting me.”
“Sup?” Troy asks, walking over to where I sit on our couch.
Adrenaline spiking, I can only shake my head before I look back at the screen, incredulous. In seconds, my phone is yanked from my hand.
“She’s hot,” he mutters, “and she wants to hook up.”
Charging from the couch, I manage to snatch my phone away just as he finishes typing our address and hits send. Glaring at him, I push at his chest. “You dick, I might not be interested.”
“She wants it. You need it. What’s the issue?”
“The issue is, I don’t want herpes. What if this is her MO?”
Troy shrugs. “So, wrap it tight. Everybody’s doing it.”
“Everyone? Your mom on here?”
That earns me a deserved glare, but I match it before he smirks. The app is a little less risky than the average global randomness. It’s set up for campus students only. Not that that protects me from much. I never thought I would be the guy to use an app to get laid, but desperate times. And CampNookie by title alone is clearly not a dating app.
“You’ve got to get over this shit and make a move,” Troy says, tossing back a shot of Patrón. By shit, he means Nora, the girl I dated and waited for through two years of high school and another year and a half semester at Grand. She’d rewarded my patience by sleeping with some guy she met at a party. I’ve been bandaging that burn for the last year. I’d been patient, I’d been everything she needed me to be, and it wasn’t enough. One night with some random and she’d given him everything I was promised. That fact alone was enough to make me consider BlueBelle2001 a little more seriously.
BlueBelle2001: This isn’t a campus address.
TJGrand: We just rented a house.
BlueBelle2001: Send me a current pic.
She seems cautious, smart enough to look out for herself, which eases my anxiety. I scroll through my photos and pick out the best, most recent shot and send it to her.
BlueBelle2001: Hot.
I can’t help my grin.
TJGrand: Thanks.
BlueBelle2001: Love that shirt.
I’d worn my favorite rugby-style shirt that day.
TJGrand: Thanks, it’s my subtle salute to Harry Potter. You a fan?
BlueBelle2001: Who isn’t?
My smile elevates before the bubbles rapidly start to pop up and disappear.
BlueBelle2001: Wait, which one are you? This is Troy Jenner, right?
All the air leaves my puffed chest, and I keep my groan inward.
TJGrand: No, I’m the guy on the right. Troy’s my roommate. I’m Theo.
The bubbles again pop up and then disappear…for a solid minute.
BlueBelle2001: But Troy’s your roommate?
TJGrand has left the conversation.
I take a better look at my new profile pic and see I used the same damned picture. I judged it on my smile, but by the two hundred or so matches I’ve gotten in the last hour, I can see the mistake of using my short name—first and middle initials—and Troy’s, whose are the same. The picture I chose displaying the two of us equally, only adds to the confusion. To any outsider, it might look like I’m catfishing.
Way to go, Theo.
I delete my profile and then the app and run my hand down my face just as Troy passes me a beer. “Dude, heard you guys killed it tonight.”