Page 18 of Please Don't Leave Me

It's a Saturday morning, and I have nothing to do. B is out of town for a work trip and will be gone for a week. I went to college in a different state, and most of my college friends stayed there while I moved back to my home state to be closer to family. And working from home isn't very conducive to meeting new people. So when B is gone, it’s pretty much just Pepin and I.

I usually do lots of reading, study for my licensure exams, and take Pepin on walks. He loves walks and insists on at least one a day. I'm not exactly sure how that's going to work in the winter, but that's a problem I'll figure out later.

I open the dating app and start mindlessly scrolling. So far, nothing good has come out of it. A few messages here and there, but I easily get the ick, so they tend to not go anywhere.

Zach:Ew, another guy holding a dead fish. Left.

Seth:Confederate flag hat, no thank you. Left.

What is this app's problem? Either I've scrolled throughall the eligible bachelors in the Twin Cities area, or the algorithm needs some updating.

Brandon:Likes the outdoors, 25 years old, has pretty eyes, full head of hair. Right.

Ethan:Assault rifle in the first picture, seriously, dude? Left.

Kevin:Likes plants, 24 years old, enjoys intramural sports... Mormon. Left.

Sam:Likes dogs, 26 years old, has a picture with a Pride flag, and is a small business owner.

Before swiping right, I linger on his page for a minute. He looks vaguely familiar, but then again, he sort of has that basic, All-American look to him. Brown curly hair, 6'2", and dresses well, but not so well that he'll judge my clothing. I can't tell what color his eyes are; they present differently in every picture. He has one of those kind-looking faces where you know he's nice to his mom. And bonus that none of his photos are a shirtless mirror pic at the gym.

Right.

SAM

Work has started to slow down now that it's fall, so I find myself bored more often. That's how I let my younger brother, Quinn, talk me into signing up for a dating app. I was really hoping I would find someone the organic way, but that hasn't panned out so far. So here I am on a Monday afternoon, scrolling on my phone when I decide to check if there's anyone new is on the dating app.

Quinn pretty much set up my entire profile for me. I made my own at first, but he asked to see it and immediately took charge, changing everything. Literally, everything.Except for my name and age, I guess. The version of me he put on here is accurate; it’s just a more curated version of me.

I swipe left on six women in a row, and I almost swipe past her out of habit, but I stop myself in time. She's stunning. Shoulder length, straight brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes, very naturally pretty. She's an aspiring architect, lives in the city, has a dog. She can't be real. I swipe right before I accidentally mess this up. There's no way we're going to match, though; she is way out of my league. But the screen lights up saying, 'It’s a MATCH.’

"Shut. Up."

My heart races, and I suddenly feel the pressure to say something good. I've never been this nervous to message someone on here. I tap 'Message Louisa Now' and freeze. After twelve different drafts, I finally send one, and it's not even clever.

Sam

Hey Louisa. Is that a standard labradoodle in one of your pictures? He's adorable.

I lock my phone so I stop staring at it, waiting for her to reply. A walk to the kitchen will distract me. I make myself a sandwich and sit on a stool by the island to eat it. I sit there waiting for it to buzz, but it doesn't.

I successfully ignore my phone for the next hour while watching a show. Then it dawns on me that I never turned on notifications for that app. I jolt forward and knock my phone off the coffee table while trying to grab it. I pick it up off the floor, and the screen unlocks to my face. The last thing I had open on the phone was that app, so it's the first thing to pop up. One message notification. I click it and praythat it's her.

Sam

Hey Louisa. Is that a standard labradoodle in one of your pictures? He’s adorable.

Lou

I adopted him, so I don't know for sure, but they think he is a labradoodle. His name is Pepin, and he's 10 years old.

I can't believe she responded.

Sam

How long have you had him?

Lou

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