Bad For You

seventeen

"What do you think about online dating?"

It's Saturday afternoon and Hannah and I are sitting at the malls food court, eating frozen yogurt.

"I don't know, it's always sounded kind of sketch to me," I scoop another spoonful of yogurt. "I mean people have genuinely met and fell in love before, but more often than not it ends up as an episode on Dateline or something."

"Hmmm," Hannah hums. "I think I might try it."

I almost choke. "What? Where is this coming from?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Seeing you and Theo together kind of makes me realize how lonely I am. And I'm just not attracted to any of the guys at school."

"What if you like girls?"

"I'm not attracted to them either."

"Maybe you're asexual then."

Hannah gives me a look. "I'm not gay, asexual, or bisexual," she pauses. "Well, maybe a little. I think some girls are hot. I just wouldn't want to date them. Pussy is weird anyway. I don't even like my own. It's all squishy and shit."

"So is dick."

"Until it's not," she suggestively licks her spoon and I gag.

"You're disgusting."

"And you like it," Hannah winks.

"Okay back to the online dating thing. I don't know Han, it sounds kind of dangerous. What if you meet some psycho ax murderer or rapist who keeps girls locked in his basement?"

Hannah rolls her eyes. "That only happens on tv."

"Which is based on real life events."

"Not always. Besides, I'd be careful of course."

"Still...maybe you should give someone at school a chance," I rack my brain trying to think. "How about Jack?"

Hannah wrinkles her nose. "Ew, no. He reminds me too much of Jack Frost."

"But Jack Frost was cute!"

"Yeah if you're into the whole blonde hair, blue eye thing. Not my cup of tea."

I raise a brow quizzically. "What exactly is your type?"

Hannah looks thoughtful. "I don't know actually. I don't think I have a type. Just not that."

"Fine. Oliver?"

"Ugh no. He's a douchebag."

I go on listing all the guys we know in our grade, but Hannah finds a flaw in every one of them. They either laugh weird or smell funny or their eyes are spaced too far apart.

"You're impossible," I huff. "Seriously, I had no idea you were this picky. Maybe you should just stick to the guys in your books."

"I'm tired of fictional guys. They can only hold me off for so long. I need the real thing."

I have no idea where this is coming from, whether she's really lonely or just bored and wants to experiment. Hannah starts tapping on her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Downloading Tinder," she replies. "Who knows, maybe I'll meet my dream guy."

"If he even exists," I mutter.

But Hannah is optimistic. "Worst case scenario, I go on a few bad dates. Now help me pick my profile photo. It has to be cute, but sexy. I don't want to give too much away."