by Haley Cass
After quickly getting dressed, she left her hair tied up in its towel to dry before reaching for her phone once more to see what “odd” thing Sutton wanted to ask.
Sutton, 6:24AM
You’re right. Sorry, about all of that. But . . . maybe
I could talk to you about profiles when I think
perhaps I’ll message the girl? Or if I’m in a small
panic or have said something really dumb, maybe
I could talk to you about it? Kind of like a mentor
type thing. Only, not as weird as it sounds.
Sutton, 6:25AM
God, I know how weird it is. Believe me, I do.
But, you said yourself that you have a lot of
experience on here.
Sutton, 6:26AM
Actually, forget that I asked, please.
Charlotte had to read all of the messages over twice before it truly dawned on her what Sutton was asking. If she could help Sutton find her . . . princess charming on the app. The honest-to-god genuine laughter bubbled out of her. Not that she found Sutton herself laughable – no, she was adorable – but the idea that Charlotte, of all people, was being asked to help find someone romance.
She just had to take a moment to let it really sink in.
Charlotte, 6:50AM
Darling, take a deep breath. I would be remiss
to say that I wasn’t intrigued by your proposal.
It surprised even herself how interested she was as to where that would lead, that much was true.
Charlotte, 6:51AM
However, I would be even more remiss, if I didn’t
inform you that I plan on deleting this account, for
personal reasons. Very soon, in fact.
Sutton, 6:53AM
Oh. Okay.
Sutton, 6:57AM
You’re not deleting your account because I’m
coming off like a stalker or something, right?
Because I swear to you, I’m just a little awkward
sometimes.
Oh, it was all too good. Charlotte was hard-pressed to remember the last time she’d been so amused. She quickly typed back.
Charlotte, 6:59AM
Someone certainly thinks highly of herself ;)
Charlotte, 7:01AM
But please don’t worry. It’s truly not you. I’ve
actually quite enjoyed our conversations.
Surprisingly so.
She made her way into the kitchen. As always, she was grateful for her timed coffee maker and she poured herself a large mug. She heard her phone go off as she stirred in her cream and sugar, giving herself a moment to arrange it just the way she liked before she checked her message and sat at her counter.
Sutton, 7:04AM
Good. I enjoy them, too. Rather, enjoyed them.
When are you deleting your account? If you don’t
mind my asking.
Charlotte sighed, a strange feeling of regret settling in her stomach as she took a sip from her coffee. She, weirdly, enjoyed Sutton. She enjoyed her honesty and her naiveté when it came to this dating world she’d stepped in to, however unwillingly.
Charlotte, 7:07AM
Today, actually. I should have done it last night,
but I had a titillating conversation happening.
Sutton, 7:09AM
Oh. I’m sorry. I’m not sure if this is strange to
say, but you’ve already pointed out that I’ve said
quite a few strange things already, so: I’ve liked
talking to you, and I kind of wish you would be
around to give me advice.
Drumming her fingers on the countertop, she continued to drain her coffee, as the idea struck her. She wasn’t fond of giving personal information out to women on here, but . . . it wasn’t as though Sutton was a woman who she’d been meeting up with at a club and taking home, only to never see again after the next day. Besides, once she thought about it a bit more, she was a little concerned for Sutton.
She clearly trusted Charlotte. Luckily for Sutton, that trust wasn’t misguided with her. But there were plenty of women on this app who would see a pretty little thing like Sutton and take advantage of those big blue eyes and romantic idealistic beliefs. Charlotte was straightforward with her purely casual intentions; not every other woman on here was so straightforward.
She never did something if she thought it would actually be a bad move, never acted on a thought without considering it carefully. So she thought on it for a few moments.
Giving her phone number to Sutton didn’t really have many repercussions. At best, they could continue to talk the way they had been. At worst, Sutton turned out to use it too much and Charlotte blocked her. She didn’t foresee that happening, but still.
With a deep breath, she wrote back.
Charlotte, 7:14AM
How about this: if you feel the need for my
guidance, you can text me. I don’t like the feeling
that I’ve thrown you to the vultures.
Sutton, 7:15AM
Your guidance?
Smirking, Charlotte stood to place her cup in the sink. This was the right move, she decided. Sutton hadn’t failed to entirely entertain her once yet.
Charlotte, 7:17AM
You did say that I’m your mentor, didn’t you?
Sutton, 7:18AM
I told you to ignore that!
Charlotte, 7:19AM
You wrote it; I can’t forget it after reading it.
Here’s my number. You can use it or not; it’s
your choice.
She hesitated before sending the message, because something like that really wasn’t her style. Regardless, she sent it anyway, along with another message with her phone number, before she set her phone down on the counter, next to her purse.
It was only once she’d finished getting ready and was calling a car to take her to the office that she felt her phone vibrate again.
This time, it wasn’t alerting her to a message from SapphicSpark, but a text, from an unrecognized number.
Unknown number – 7:25AM
Hi. It’s Sutton. I’ve never had a mentor before.
Charlotte was fairly certain she was going to enjoy this.
Chapter 3
With her music playing in her earbuds keeping her grounded and focused, Sutton worked diligently at her desk in the cramped TA office that she shared with four other Literature TA’s. It was nearing the end of the first month of the semester, which meant that she had to grade the first papers of the year for the Early American Lit class.
She’d been working for Dr. Martin for over a year now – having almost camped out in his office to persist in getting the coveted job. His classes were popular due to his wit and the way he engaged students into the material. He taught a wide range of courses, though he favored the Romantics. As did she.
It was nice to work with a professor who was well-respected for his intelligence, who didn’t treat her as though she were merely an assistant, but somewhat of a colleague. Granted, a colleague who did work for him, but still.
On the flip side, Sutton had been given a very clipped speech upon getting this job that as he held himself to a high standard, he would also be holding her to one.
Which meant working on strict deadlines when it came to grading. These papers didn’t technically have to be graded for a few more days, but Sutton liked to keep her deadlines slightly ahead of schedule. She knew that it was noticed and appreciated.
With only a few left to grade, she broke her concentration when the door opened and Emma stepped in. Emma gave her a nod and a quick smile, before dropping into her own seat as unobtrusively as possible.
Though they were both in their second year of grad school, Emma was a few years older than she was, and had supported herself through undergrad. Even though they’d been friends for over a year by now, there wasn’t much else she’d learned about her past.
She stretched, sighing a
s she leaned back. “How was that test you took?”
The very non-content sigh Emma let out in response was enough of an answer. “Well. Your notes helped a bit but – gross. I have them if you want them back.”
“No rush.”
“And I’m gonna need a coffee if I’m going to make it through my class later. But, anyway, how did your grading go, Miss Popularity?”
She looked at Emma in question. All she received in response was a nod toward her phone. Strategically perched just out of her eye range for when she was grading to avoid distraction.
“I’ve only been in here for a few minutes and it’s already gone off like ten times. Been buzzing like crazy.” Emma informed her with a grunt as she dug into the depths of her perpetually messy backpack, emerging with a book.
She reached for her phone, eyes growing wide in concern when she saw that she had twenty-two unread messages. Sure, she’d been paying no attention to her phone for a few hours, but it was basically the middle of the day.
Her mind was already racing with worst-case scenarios when she saw that the majority of the messages were from the groupchat between herself and her siblings.
Alex – 11:13AM
brought to you practically live from london.
me kicking ass.
[3 attachments]
Sutton silenced her phone as she watched the clips her sister had attached. They were short videos of her, indeed, kicking ass. Alex had been interested in many sports over the years, and had played three – including football, much to their mother’s chagrin – throughout her school years. However, even more to their mother’s chagrin and blatant worry, the one that had stuck was mixed martial arts. It was really both of her older siblings, Lucas and Oliver’s faults; when Alex had followed them around like they were gods, they’d been barely teenagers, and interested in learning to fight.
It made her flinch, not only when Alex got hit, but even when her sister landed a punch. Sutton had never been one for violence, which made the feeling of pride she got when Alex won these fights a strange, almost conflicting thing.
Alex had been training seriously for the last couple of years, since finishing high school, with some of the best coaches in the northeast, and was fighting in an amateur circuit that had competitions throughout the United States and Europe, on her way to being a professional.
She ran her eyes over her siblings’ chat – her older brothers Oliver and Lucas congratulating her and taking joking credit for teaching her how to fight, their youngest brother, Ethan, who was still in high school, joining in to scream over how cool it was that Alex knocked out her opponents’ teeth.
Even though she hadn’t been not close with her siblings when she’d been younger, it wasn’t until she’d moved away to New York for college seven years ago that she’d really realized how much she enjoyed them, how much she missed them when they were no longer around all of the time.
Still smiling from the feeling of home, she opened the next message.
Regan – 12:20PM
Been at the café since 6. Beth called out, so I’m
working a double D: I could use an uplifting best
friend visit! My break’s at 1:30. There are freshly
baked lemon cakes.
Sutton – 12:39PM
You know I’ll go anywhere for those lemon
cakes.
Regan – 12:41PM
Are you saying you wouldn’t come just for me,
your best friend, who would do anything for you?
Sutton – 12:44PM
. . . save me two lemon cakes :)
Regan – 12:45PM
Bitch. I’ll see you soon.
Her excitement mounted as she opened the final message.
Charlotte – 12:25PM
Something to add to the list, darling: if a woman
ever asks you to go to The Echo – you know, that
hot club in midtown? Don’t go, because she only
wants a hook up.
She brought up the note she’d kept saved on her phone since texting Charlotte like this two weeks ago.
True to her word, Charlotte had been acting in somewhat of a guide capacity. What was shocking about it, really, was that she hardly ever mocked Sutton for even asking in the first place. When she thought back on the moment, she could still feel her face burn in mortification.
Still, aside from moments where Charlotte teased her – and even via text, Sutton could tell that it was meant to be just as she took it, lightheartedly . . . if somewhat embarrassing – she was nothing but pleasant. Helpful. Friendly.
In her notes, she added The Echo at the bottom. With Charlotte’s advice, she’d created a list of “red flags” to look for with women on the app. The list varied from key words found under interests – I’m not saying to not talk to a woman based entirely on her interests . . . but sometimes there are things to look for. Like when a woman say she’s interested in spontaneous fun – and there are several of them on here.
To bios, which Sutton learned from Charlotte were an option that most people didn’t use, as it cost an additional fee – Trust me, sweetheart, there is no reason that someone would pay to use the additional bio when there is free messaging to get to know someone, unless they feel that their personality through messaging isn’t enough to hold your interest.
To the way women spoke in messages – I know you’re looking for someone long-term, or at least the option of long-term, so you know to avoid anyone who brings up casual flings, but you still need to look out for the women who will talk about marriage after talking to you for a few hours. You don’t need that kind of craziness in your life.
Those were only a few examples. Charlotte mostly had a great deal of colorful words to say about very many women on here who were looking to “dine and dash” – which had been a phrase Sutton had painfully and embarrassingly needed her to elaborate on – when a “pretty young thing” like Sutton was involved.
Sutton hadn’t expected every woman that she might make conversation with to be interested in the exact same thing that she hoped for in the long term. But thinking about all of the potential traps that might befall her was daunting, to say the least.
Which was one of the reasons that she hadn’t messaged anyone else from the app.
Sutton – 12:50PM
Done. Though I would like to ask why?
She placed her phone on her lap, unsure of whether or not she’d be getting an answer. On the occasion that Charlotte messaged her in the late morning or early afternoon, her responses were then typically sporadic until later that evening.
She organized her papers, shifting the graded ones to the top corner while clipping together the few she needed to complete before tucking them into her bag.
When her phone buzzed in an answer, she felt a surprised yet pleasant flip-flop at Charlotte’s timely answer.
Charlotte – 12:55PM
I may have been there before, myself.
Sutton – 12:56PM
Oh, once or twice? :P
Charlotte always had extremely sensible explanations for her words of advice to Sutton, with a plethora of reasons, but it always came back to her own rather extensive experiences.
Charlotte – 12:57PM
Mmm, something like that . . .
Sutton – 12:58PM
What if I wouldn’t mind going to a club?
With her phone back on the desk, she continued to meticulously place her items in her backpack. She had no more classes for the day, so when she left campus, she wasn’t coming back.
Emma leaned back in her chair – consequently hitting it against the back of Sutton’s, with a groan as she dropped the book in her hand to her desk. “God, I can’t stand Tolstoy.”
With a small drop of her shoulders, Sutton playfully nudged her chair against her friend’s. “Want to take a break and come get a coffee with me?”
“Getting a coffee with you, or reading this shit book for Dr. Shepherd . . . let me thi
nk about that.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me get a get to the end of this chapter and we can go?”
Sutton was already giving her a nod of assent before her attention was drawn back to her phone.
Charlotte – 1:01PM
Oh, “a club” is perfectly fine – depending on which
one you’re wanting to go to. But not this one. This is
like a code. Trust me, any woman on SappicSpark who
suggests going to The Echo is only interested in one
thing.
Charlotte – 1:02PM
And it’s not the sharp mind behind those baby blues.
She rolled her eyes. She made one inquiry about how exactly someone could dine and dash on a woman . . .
Sutton – 1:04PM
I got that!
Charlotte – 1:05PM
Just wanted to make sure ;)
She’d gotten used to things like that – the winking faces and the casual flirting that she’d started to learn was basically instinctive to Charlotte. So used to it that she didn’t even respond to it anymore.
All right, almost. A slight flush had settled on her cheeks.
Sutton – 1:07PM
And what brought this comment on? Did you go
there recently?
For a few moments after she sent it, she wondered if she’d asked too much. If it was too personal. Despite the knowledge Charlotte imparted to her with a few anecdotes on occasion, and the fact that they’d been talking every day, she was very sparse on the details she gave out about herself.
Which, admittedly, only made Sutton more curious about her. And she was so curious. Probably disproportionately so, given that Charlotte didn’t seem to be overly interested in her life.
Curiosity was only a natural progression from this tentative friendship – if she could call it that – they’d cultivated, she reasoned with herself. After all, it had been weeks and she still had no idea why Charlotte suddenly deleted her profile. She couldn’t be in a relationship, Sutton was sure of that. And she didn’t seem like she wanted to be done with hooking up.
Charlotte – 1:12PM
No, no. I walked by it on the way home from a meeting
over lunch. I can’t believe I forgot to mention it before,
actually. Have you ever been?
Sutton – 1:14PM
