20 | A Stranger from the Internet

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

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Insanity:

Going out with someone from Tinder. Period. It's ridiculous.

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            "Well, we now have every hair color in the apartment."

            The day before my date with Michael, I had gone back to the salon to get my roots covered up—I had no intentions of going back to being a brunette anytime soon. Ashley had come with me again, but this time she had gone with a change of her own—she was now a redhead.

            In all honesty, it looked amazing. She looked like a model, and I was insanely jealous. Her new red hair made for a new record in the apartment—we now had every (naturally attainable) hair color in the apartment. Christina and I were blonde, Samantha and Madison were brunette, Paige had jet black hair, and Ashley now had red.

            Everyone was chilling in the living room together, for once seeming as if the entire apartment was in order and no one was irrationally angry with anyone else. But the second a knock sounded on the front door, everyone bolted for their own rooms, winking at me and giving me little nudges as they went. Ashley left the room last, giving my arm a squeeze.

            "If he brings out a knife or something, just yell and I'll come kill him."

            "Thanks." I laughed, "I'll make sure to frisk him before we watch the show."

            "Or during." She winked before flouncing into her room.

            I took a deep breath and put my hand on the doorknob. I had never been on a date from a dating app before, and I could feel the nerves bubbling over inside of me. He was probably completely normal. I was probably fine. (1)

            I swung the door open before I could convince myself not to and greeted the guy standing on the other side: he was surprisingly shorter than I thought he would have been—at least judging from his profile pictures. He was around 5'9" or 5'10", with red hair and bright blue eyes. He was skinny—probably skinnier than I was, to be honest—and had the biggest smile on his face.

            "Morgan?"

            "That's me!" I laughed, "Michael?"

            "In the flesh." He grinned, "How are you?"

            "I'm doing great." I smiled, stepping back to allow him into the apartment. "Come on in."

            He stepped inside and we walked over to the couch, sitting down as I turned on the television.

            "I've never actually been on a Tinder date before." I said, "So I'm sorry if I'm weird or anything."

            He laughed: a big, genuine laugh that made me smile.

            "I think you'll be fine. You know, except for the fact that I'm a total stranger from the Internet."

            I laughed, glad that the unconventional way of us meeting could be joked about.

            "You're right. But now you'll see the kind of shows I like, and you'll probably be the one who ends up scared." I selected Pretty Little Liars from the Netflix queue and turned the volume down slightly as the show began. "Have you ever seen this show?"

            He shook his head.

            "I mean, I watched a few episodes when we decided that this was what we were doing tonight. I like to be prepared for my dates."

            I laughed.

            "I'm impressed. Any questions?"

            "Yeah, where'd you grow up?"

            I rolled my eyes.

            "I meant about the show, but alright." I laughed, "I grew up in Virginia, just a little bit south of Leesburg. What about you?"

            "Whoa, that's so far from here! That's awesome. I grew up in Lehi, Utah. You go to Legered University I'm assuming, from the apartment complex?"

            I nodded.

            "Yeah, Legered. Your bio said...Lincoln Mountain?"

            He nodded.

            "Yeah, the 'dumb school' of Spanish Fork." Michael laughed, "But I wasn't about to deal with all of the rules and stuff here. Plus, I got a full ride to LMU, and I'm trying to save for grad school."

            "Oh, that's awesome!" I nodded, "What's your major?"

            "Psychology. I want to be a neuropsychologist and help out people with brain injuries and stuff."

            "Whoa, that's intense." I nodded, "Good for you!"

            "Thanks." He grinned, "So what do you want to do?"

            I shrugged.

            "I want to be an author, actually. I'm a Creative Writing major."

            We continued talking throughout the show, talking our way through an entire forty-five minute episode before the conversation died down. The next episode started up and I leaned back slightly, feeling him put his arm around me and not minding it.

            Halfway through the episode I felt his hand tilt my chin upwards as he leaned down to kiss me. I kissed him back, still not totally sure of whether or not this would result in my being murdered, but I figured whatever happened, I was in it now.

            I'm going to cut this little anecdote right there, seeing as this is a relatively true story and who knows who could end up reading it. But since you're probably wondering (after the Ben fiasco)—this was a good night.

***

            I shut the door after Michael left that night and went directly to Ashley's room, thanking my lucky stars that she was awake with the light on.

            "How was it? I didn't hear you scream bloody murder, so that must have been a plus."

            I laughed, sitting down on the foot of her bed and slinging my legs over the side.

            "It was actually a lot of fun. We were laughing and talking for like an hour...it was so easy. Like I don't think I've felt so comfortable on a first date in a long time."

            Ashley looked at me carefully.

            "What?" I asked self-consciously.

            "I don't know." She shrugged, leaning back against her pillow, "I can really tell you like him. You just have this look on your face."

            I shook my head.

            "It was just a first date. From Tinder."

            Ashley raised her eyebrows.

            "Tell that to the smile on your face."

            I rolled my eyes as I felt my phone buzz in my hand and looked down to see a text from Michael—we had actually exchanged phone numbers, so we didn't have to solely communicate on Tinder.

            Hey it's your favorite PLL watching buddy. Thanks for the fab night. I hope it wasn't too boring for you since you'd seen all that already...

            I grinned to myself, hopping off of Ashley's bed and typing out a response.

            "Goodnight!" Ashley called after me, laughing slightly.

            "Yeah, goodnight." I replied quietly, focusing on my response.

            Haha it wasn't boring at all! Thanks for watching a "chick show" with me!

            I climbed into bed at 1:00 AM, phone in hand, waiting for a response. A part of me hated that I had made out with a Tinder guy on the first date. Another part of me was highly aware of the fact that I couldn't stop smiling about it.

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Theory:

I hadn't gone out with anyone in a while, okay? And it didn't even go that bad.

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(1) I bet you were expecting a footnote where I negate the fact that I was probably fine. This is not that.