The Reunion

3

Rosalie eased me into it. A couple of wineglasses later and we are sitting on my green couch with as many blanket as you can imagine. Eating snacks fresh out o the oven and watching our comfort film, the Pride & Prejudice adaption from 2005, a classic. Only is it playing in the background, we started swiping left and right to find ourselves some suitable dates. A few matches in, we started asking whether they were free on the 13th, that would be in two weeks. Most weren't or just unmatched us. We were looking for handsome and oblivious. It seemed more like a competition, putting matches against each other on a piece of wallpaper I found in the back of my garage.
"May the best match win!" we squeal as we sip on our fifth glass of wine. Reflecting on these matches and how some of them resembled Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingly. We smothered by the hand-flex-scene and went on with our quest to the perfect date. Until Rose came to the conclusion that it was not going to work.
My heart sunk, it was her idea and she already got me so excited. It cannot not work now. It has to work!
Then there it was. A message from a man named Michael on my account. He would be my date if he would agree to our terms we set up according to my competition chart.
We agreed not to tell the men what our plan was, we just gave them an address and an hour. We set up a message we would send to all these men containing our terms and conditions. What we expected from them and what they could expect,"That should be enough", said Rose, "Maybe we should add a dress code?" I interjected. "We should totally add a dress code. What about dress to impress? Pop of colour, yellow?" I laughed, "I thought more casual chique, but if that is what you want, I will not hold you back on finding your fashion-soulmate".
My phone vibrated, "HE AGREED" , I yelled, jumping from the couch, almost tipping over my wineglass. "Wonderful, Cleo! Now sit back down. It's the part where she is reading his letters with the truth about Mr How-is-he-called-again?" "Wickham", I say, smiling at her. Rose is worried, I can tell, but she doesn't really show it. Instead, she is gaping at the tv-screen. One down, one to go.
The film has ended, it's nearly three o'clock in the morning, still no answer from Rose's account. She is starting to freak, but I tell her we still have two weeks. She agrees and silently gets up to go and do her nightly skincare routine. I follow her into the tiny bathroom. With the two of us in front of the mirror, it's a bit cramped. We laugh, washing our faces and putting on moisturizer. We hear her phone ping loudly in the living room when we started putting on our pimple patches. She almost falls to the wet floor in her hurry. "It's my mom", another ping, "IT'S TINDER" I squeal and get to the living room. "Is it your winner?" "It isss", she huffs out in relief, laughing to herself. "As if he wouldn't answer". She sends him the message stating our terms and conditions and puts her phone away. At least not for long, she wasn't even halfway the stairs when her phone pinged again. "We now each have a date to bring to the stupid reunion", she says, smiling down at me.