Down the Rabbit Hole

The pulsating yellow icon was back in the bottom right corner of her screen—iLove. She pressed the icon and held it with the intention of deleting it, then changed her mind.

“Wait a minute.” She cancelled the delete function. “Have you ever heard of a dating site called iLove?”

April shook her head. “It must be new, because I’ve heard of all the dating sites.” She got up and came around the desk, leaning over Macy’s shoulder. “Jeez, is that suggestive or what? Look at it, it’s throbbing, for god’s sake. Open it!”

Macy tapped the icon and the app sprang to life. Find a Guy, Contact a Guy, See the Guys Looking at You . . .

“‘See the Guys Looking at You,’” Macy read. “How stalkery is that?”

“Go up, go up, go up.” April pointed, moving her finger like it was on the screen. “Go to Find a Guy. Let’s just see who they’ve got. How have I not seen this site?”

Macy tapped the red heart, which was also throbbing, and up came a screen that read What Are You Looking For?

“Ooh, this is fun.” April straightened, grabbed the chair placed against the wall and dragged it over. “Let’s join.”

“April!” Macy laughed. “No way. Besides, look at the time. I have to get some work done today, you know.”

“It’ll only take a minute. Besides, it’s Friday.”

“Your point being? You actually think I’m going to find a guy for tonight?” Macy scoffed.

April shot her a raised eyebrow. “My point being that you can work all weekend since you’re not seeing anybody anymore.”

She scrolled down the page, scanning the questions.

Your guy is:

Tall

Short

Either, as long as he’s taller than me

Size doesn’t matter

Your guy likes:

Books

Movies

Museums

Artsy-fartsy stuff nobody understands

An NCIS marathon on his big-ass TV

“I notice they don’t say ‘anything happening on the two-by-five screen in his palm,’” Macy quipped.

“Quiet. We’re getting to the essay portion.” April took the phone from her hand and held it so they both could see while she scrolled faster. “What are you going to tell them about you? ‘Hates technology. Wants undivided attention. Will dump you at the drop of a hat.’”

April laughed, but Macy folded her arms. “Hey. That’s not fair. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to not play second fiddle to an electronic device.”

April rolled her eyes. “Enough with the cell phone stuff. There had to be other stuff wrong with Jeremy or you wouldn’t have dumped him, right?”

Macy paused, considering for the hundredth time that she might have been hasty. Then she recalled the feeling of sitting there while he searched for someone or something more interesting than her to interact with.

“Right?” April insisted, suddenly looking appalled.

“Of course! The phone was indicative of so many things. It meant . . .” She didn’t want to put it into words.

“It meant . . . ?” April insisted.

“Well, that he couldn’t sustain a conversation. That he didn’t understand proper etiquette. That he was inconsiderate, rude, oblivious.”

“He didn’t understand proper etiquette?” April’s brows were at her hairline. “You’re kidding, right?”

Macy paused, feeling the words back up in her throat. “All right, here it is. He couldn’t stop going for his phone because he wasn’t interested in me. Okay? You said it yourself before. The fact that he hasn’t called means he was done too.”

She took the phone back, moving her thumb up and down on the screen and once again fighting the urge to cry. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this upset over a breakup. They were usually a relief. Where was the relief?

“Hey, careful, you’re going to lose our place.” April took the phone from her again, smiling gently when Macy looked at her. “We can do this like an interview, okay? I’ll ask questions and you answer them, and I’ll put them in. What the heck, it could be fun. And you never know. You lost a guy because of a phone—who’s to say you can’t find a guy because of one too?”