The Blind Date

People always told me how much they wished they had a twin, but it wasn’t until you had a twin that you wished you didn’t have one.

Take me for example. I had a twin. And I wished I didn’t have one—now, more than ever. And here was why.

Ever since I woke up, Ariella had been begging me non-stop to take her place on a blind date. And why? Because she had forgotten about it and made other plans. I told her not to show up but apparently, that was cruel. I told her to cancel but someone had cancelled on her before and she didn’t want to do the same to another. And so instead, she was on her knees, begging me to go instead.

“Please, Abigail,” Ari pleaded.

“No,” I said for the fifth time that morning. “And if you don’t let go of my ankles, I'm going to spill my hot coffee on you.” 

She let out a dramatic sob but released me. “Why do you hate me?”

I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the couch. “I don’t hate you.” 

“Then please do me this one favour.”

I stopped and looked back at her.  “Well, since you asked so nicely…” I began, and she immediately perked up. I took a long, dramatic pause before saying, “No.”

“Argh.” She groaned. “You’re so annoying.”

With a snicker, I plopped down onto the couch. Placing my coffee on the table, I reached for the TV remote and searched for my podcast playlist. I was just about to select it when the remote was suddenly snagged from my fingers.

I let out a long, pained sigh. “Ari. Give it back.”

“Nuh-uh,” she refused, her hands on her hips. “First, you have to tell me why you’re refusing. Do youhave any plans?”

“No.”

“Then why not just do this for me!”

“Ari.” I placed two fingers on my temple. Her high-pitched protests always gave me a headache. “You met this guy on a dating app.”

“So?”

“So obviously all he wants to do is sleep with you, and I’m not going to speak to someone like that.”

“That’s not true,” she denied. “Not all men on dating apps are looking for hookups.”

I raised a brow. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” she exclaimed. I gave her a look. “I wasn’t looking for a hook-up.”

“You’re not a man though.”

“Abi, be serious.” She huffed, frustrated. “Right now a man of the name Jacob Harvey is going to Kart Kings Coffee Shop in exactly an hour in hopes of—”

“Getting some?” I guessed.

“No!” She shrieked. “Of finding true love! Gross, Abi.”

I grinned. “I was close.”

“I could be his true love, Abi, and the plus side of you going is you get to see if he’d be good for me,” she reasoned. “I just don’t want to make a bad first impression by cancelling.”

 “As you’ve said.” I rolled my eyes.

“You don’t understand.” She sighed, shaking her head in irritation. “If only you weren’t so cynical.”

“And if only you weren’t so naïve,” I retorted. “Men don’t want love. Once they get what they want, they leave, just like dad did.”

She bristled at that, her fists clenching. “Not every man is like our father.”

“No, but a lot of them are, so I’m not going to take that chance. And neither should you.” I shot to my feet and made to leave, but apparently, our conversation wasn’t over because Ari caught my arm. 

I yanked it back and spun to face her, but stopped short when I saw her expression. Her eyes were lowered and she was biting her lower lip, something she always did when she was trying not to cry.

I sighed, feeling the guilt of my words. “I’m sorry I brought up Dad.”

“It’s not about dad,” she said. “It’s about you.” She looked at me with glassy eyes. “I don’t want you to be alone forever. I don’t want what he did to stop you from ever falling in love.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Ari—”

“Please just go on this date,” she pleaded once more. “It’s for me, after all, and I promise I won’t ever ask for anything like this again. Please.”

I still refused, but after several minutes of pushing and prodding, she eventually managed to persuade me. Within the next hour, I was standing outside of Kart Kings Coffee Shop.

My phone pinged with a notification and I looked down to see a message from Ari.

Thanks so much, Abi! I owe you xx

“Heck yeah, you owe me,” I mumbled before shoving my phone into my pocket.

I pushed the door to the coffee shop open and a bell jingled as I entered. I didn’t even know what Jacob looked like. The dating app was anonymous that way, and I found that highly suspicious. For all I knew, I could be meeting up with an old man.

I looked around the coffee shop and scoped out the few men who were seated alone, asking myself which one among them looked most likely to want to find a hook-up on a dating up. Most of them did, if I was being honest, but in the end, I took a wild guess and approached a man with a flannel shirt. 

“Hi,” I said, tapping the table to get his attention. He looked up at me. “Are you Jacob?”

He hesitated a beat before saying, “Yes.”

“Great.” I felt a burst of satisfaction that I’d guessed right. “I’m, erm, Hope.” 

Ariella had told me that she’d used her middle name for her profile rather than her first name. 

Ariella isn’t a very common name, she had said. I don’t need people I know stumbling across my profile.

I took the seat across from him and rested my forearms against the table before leaning forward. “Now, before we waste each other’s time, I just wanted to let you know that if you were looking for a hook-up, you chose the wrong girl. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

The man’s eyes grew wide and I could hear someone choking but I kept my eyes locked on him so he knew I meant business. Ever so slowly, his eyes shifted to some point beyond my shoulder and I looked back to see a woman with two coffee cups in hand. She looked about ready to throw the hot liquid at both of us when a man suddenly appeared. 

“Wrong Jacob.” The man’s voice was rough as if he had just come from choking.

Oh.

He looked at the woman. “I’m Jacob as well, she was meant to be meeting me, not him. Apologies for that.” He coughed before taking my arm and leading me away. I was too stunned to say a word and followed him as he led me to one of the chairs closest to the window. I sat down and buried my face in my hands, mortified.

Jacob coughed for a few moments before clearing his throat, but even then his voice still sounded slightly croaky. “Quite the impression you made there.”

I didn’t remove my hands from my face, but I parted my fingers slightly so I could see him. “Don’t remind me.”

“Well, just so you know, I have no intention of sleeping with you.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working,” I grumbled.

He chuckled and sat straighter in his chair. “It’s Hope right? What made you think I wanted to sleep with you?”

I exhaled and dropped my hands to look at him properly, and I was taken aback for a moment. In my embarrassment, I hadn’t noticed just how attractive he was. Which made it more likely that all he wanted to do was hit and run. 

“I don’t believe men go on dating apps for anything other than hook-ups,” I said simply.

“I agree to disagree,” he said. “There’s a lot of people out there who are genuinely looking for love.”

“And are you one of those people, Jacob?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

I just managed to hold back my sneer. “If you’re one of those guys who think being mysterious is hot, you’re wrong.”

A hint of amusement danced on his lips. “And if you’re one of those girls who think being feisty is hot, you’re right.”

I immediately stiffened, his words catching me off guard. “That wasn’t funny.”

He winked. “Wasn’t it?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to be here.”

“Because I don’t,” I said bluntly.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he said positively, surprising me. “I don’t want to be here either. My friends thought it’d be funny to set up a dating profile for me without my knowledge, and they refused to let me cancel last minute so, here I am.”

That sounded similar to my situation. 

“Since I’m here though, I’m going to make the most of it,” he told me. “Who knows what could come of this date?”

"Probably nothing," I stated sceptically. 

"You might just fall for me," he teased. 

"I highly doubt that.” 

"The chemistry is undeniable," he said smugly. “I saw you staring into my eyes.”

“I was holding eye contact.”

He grinned. “Same difference.”

I rolled my eyes, but was surprised to find myself fighting back a grin of my own.

“So, Hope.” He leaned forward on the table. “Tell me about yourself?”

I crossed my arms. “What is this, an interview?”

“Wow, you’re a tough nut to crack.” He leaned back, and I didn’t like how intently he was watching me. He looked like he was about to speak but then hesitated, his mouth opening and closing in uncertainty. Eventually, he muttered, “screw it,” and said, “I can tell you’re also here against your will, your friends probably conned you into coming to this date, am I right?”

“It was my sister,” I corrected.

“Ah, yes. It’s always the blood relatives,” he deadpanned, and I failed to stifle my laugh. “But anyway,” he went on. “If you want to leave, then do it now or forever hold your peace. But if not, then I’d love to get to know you. As two strangers who were brought together against their will.”

He paused, watching me for a reaction before asking, “How does that sound?”