Page 21 of Meet Cute the Virgin

“Becauseof this bio.” She bumps my shoulder. “Now strike a pose.”

“Vogue, vogue,” I sing and smile; Teddy snaps a picture.

“Let your body move to the music.” Teddy snaps a picture.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I sing back. “Come on, vogue.”

“What is a vogue?” Killian asks.

“Madonna,” Teddy answers before I can. “Now hit submit it.”

I press the button before I can second-guess myself. I can always delete. The screen processes, then clears to a simple message:Welcome to Natsirt. Start matching?

My thumb hovers over YES.

“Do it,” Teddy whispers, a little devil lightly on my shoulder. I tap it. “Now we wait,” Teddy says, satisfied.

All right, now what?

My phone stays silent. As do all of us, staring at it like something is going to happen.

Then it buzzes.

“Pick it up!” Teddy’s words burst out of her.

“Oh my God,” I laugh, grabbing my phone. “You tickled my eardrum.” She is still hovering next to my shoulder.

MATCH FOUND.

I stare at the notification, something unfamiliar pressing on my chest. It might be hope. It might just be a distraction.

Either way, I don’t click it. Not sure what I’m waiting for.

“See?” Teddy grins. “Told you.”

I pick up the phone, suddenly nervous for no reason. The match’s photo pops up.

I stare at the profile picture. It’s in black and white. You can’t really see the face. He’s looking to the right with his head tilted slightly downward. His fingers are in his hair, making the palm cover that side of the face. All you can make out really is a strong jawline and stubble.

He appears to be shirtless, showing some of his neck and shoulder. I mean, it’s a little annoying that you can’t see his face, but the picture is hot. You can see the veins in his forearms. He’s in good shape.

All right, that’s enough. This is making me feel strange. I lock the screen and set it back down.

“Later,” I say. “I’ll check it later.”

Teddy raises an eyebrow at me but doesn’t push. Yet.

I got what I wanted. I’m free.

So why does freedom feel like this?

Chapter Eleven

TRISTAN

Aristotle was wrong… or so I thought.

“There is no great genius without a touch of madness.” I heard that a lot when I was at MIT, but it’s attributed to a man who died two thousand years ago and repeated by people who want to excuse their own brokenness. My father is a genius. I was born one too. And heisalso mad. I never thought I was. Figured I managed to not get that trait.