Page 33 of The Comeback Summer

I steal a glance at Hannah. Lou didn’t know our grandmother, did she? Although I suppose we’re doing a good enough job that any grandmother would be impressed, and if Lou did her research, which I assume she did, then she knows our grandmother started the Freedman Group.

When I look back at Lou, she has her nose buried in the app again.

“A pineapple,” she says, laughing. “And this one. Wow.” Lou looks up at Hannah and places a hand over her heart. “I love the vulnerability of admitting you want a strongerrelationship than the one your parents had. It’s clear you’ve really been doing the work of this challenge. Good job, you.”

Lou slides Hannah’s phone back across the table and stands, beaming down at us with undeserved pride. “Until next time, my chickadees—keep crushing y’all’s comfort zones!”

And with that, she walks out of the conference room, leaving a scent of gardenias in her wake. I feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving Lou—but wearedoing the things she asked. Just not exactly in the way she wanted.

Great Scott, who was clearly waiting in the wings, is quick to take Lou’s spot across from Hannah and me.

“So...” he says, as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“One week down, eleven to go,” Hannah says, deleting the app. Her profile is loaded on my phone, since I’ll be doing the swiping and the influx of notifications would stress her out.

“Lou’s a little scary, right?” Scott says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s fucking fabulous, but also a little...” He holds his hands up and waves his fingers, opening his mouth as if he’s a meme of someone screaming.

“She’s definitely intimidating,” I agree.

Hannah stands and smooths her shirt. “I’ve got spreadsheets calling my name,” she says. “Next time Lou comes in, we should have something to show her. Maybe the target market analysis?”

“Great idea,” I tell my sister, even though my attention is already focused on the dating app. Now that Hannah’s profile has Lou’s stamp of approval, it’s time to let the swiping begin!

The first guy looks like he’s stoned; swipe left.

The second guy is covered in tattoos—hot, but not Hannah’s type; swipe left.

A hat in every picture? Swipe left. Five foot three? Swipe left. A name that starts with aJ? Can’t swipe left fast enough! What is wrong with their algorithm? These matches are—oh my.

Now, this guy looks like a good candidate. His name is Tony, which starts with one of the twenty-five acceptable letters; he has a full head of dark, wavy hair, and he looks like he wears a suit to work every day. Swipe right!

There are a few more swipe lefts, and then a guy named Paul catches my eye. The first picture is of him on a sailboat and I immediately swipe right, imagining Hannah and me (and Paul) out on the lake.

My daydream is interrupted by a boinging sound as a heart pops onto the screen with the words:1+1 = 2! Somebody likes you!

My heart races. I have my first match! A moment later, a message arrives.

PAULG:Hey, gorgeous

And just like that, my bubble bursts. I don’t have my first match. Hannah does.

If I’m going to message these men as my sister, I have to think and act like her. And I can’t act like Hannah if I feel like myself.

I close my eyes and take three purposeful, cleansing breaths. “I am beautiful,” I tell myself-as-Hannah. “I love murder, but in a nonthreatening way. I am stupidly smart and crazy athletic. I am rational and logical and think carefully about everything I say before I say it. I am Hannah.”

I repeat my sister’s name until it feels like my own. Andthen I open my eyes and flirt back with Paul as if I really am Hannah.

HANNAHF:Hey, handsome

Well, maybe not exactly like Hannah.

Fourteen

HANNAH

I have my first date today.

Until now, this challenge has felt somewhat abstract. Yes, I’ve watched Libby set up my profile on that stupid app, and yes, I pretended to be fully invested in the whole thing in front of Lou. But internally, I’ve been a card-carrying citizen of the land of denial.

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