Ah yes, the most infamous place for hookups and flings alike.

Tinder.

At first- and I mean it- at first it was a joke. A silly, harmless joke.

Such a harmless joke turned into a shaking reality.

I am a introverted girl; I like my conversations short and sweet. Also without the public meetup as well- so why not shove all that into online friends?

Sure, you may get a 57 male posing as a 16 year old girl, but I mean, who hasn’t?

That shouldn’t even be In consideration, Poppy.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. I shouldn’t be trying this hard for a excuse.

Let’s face it, I’m lonely.

Extremely lonely.

So I created the account, thinking ‘ wow, I could make FRIENDS. Oh boy, I love making FRIENDS on a DATING APP’

( I really am desperate here )

To show my desperation, I swiped right- nearly all of them.

Not a single one has matched.

So, my predicament?

I sit on my phone, hiding in a closet at a party. My youngest sister, Ema, is hosting it. And since I’m the oldest currently placed here-

“ OI, stop your ogling on that couch, or ima get a dang spray bottle”

The teenagers both catch me staring. One gives a small smirk and goes in for another heavy kiss.

“ THATS IT.” Standing up, I stomp to the kitchen ( attempt to, there is way too many people present), grabbing the closest thing near me.

And that would be a dog bowl full of slobbered water.

I didn’t care what Ma would think- these teenagers were trying to get it on- on Great Grandma Helen’s couch that she gifted us.

With a quick pour, and sour screaming from both demons, they usher away into their corner.

“ Seriously, Poppy. I wish you would just act…normal…” Ema sighs, walking past the mess - that I was forced to make, no less.

“ Yea yea, Ema. Party ends in 5. I can’t keep up with all this hormonal nonsense going on in this house. It should be illegal.”

She gives me no protest as she stalks away down the hallway.

Just 5 more minutes of torture.

Just 5-

Oh who am I kidding, I’m going back to my safe zone.

I enter the closet, sitting and shutting the door behind me.

Only 3 more minutes.

So, I do the most rational thing any girl should do.

Scroll on Tinder.

For ‘friends’ of course.

After countless swipes upon swipes, my eyes rest on a particular profile. In the picture, a male holding a deer that, assumingely he shot. As I instinctively swiped right, immediately a notification popped on the top of the screen.

Matched.

Matched with this hunter dude?

This can’t be happening.

This whole time of swiping right on random people- I haven’t matched with a single person. And now- I have?

My heart rate instantly goes up, as the thoughts spew from my head. I have to talk to him. I have to *interact* possibly outside the comfort of my own home. This….

This is madness.

I tune out the party, as I stare at the profile of this dude. As I look into it more, I realize that most of his hobbies, actually intrigue me.

Aquarist, Botanist- is this person even real?

The more I read, the more I feel drawn.

‘ send a message’ a quiet voice in my head yells

And so, for once in my pathetic life- I did.

Screw possible consequences, weird social interactions.

This has to be fate.

I make no attempt to redirect the message as it sends, plastered on the screen.