Swipe Right

5| I hate you

Jax and I have been locked in a swiping war for at least thirty minutes. My fingers are tired and I need to finish my article, but I'm adamant he won't get more matches.

At some point, I try peeking over his shoulder to see who he's right-swiping on. I haven't given much thought to what his type might be–not since I was fourteen, anyway–but now it is all I can think about. Finally, I catch a glimpse of Rapunzel-like hair and baby blue eyes.

"So typical."

Jax looks over, waiting for me to elaborate. "What's that, Satori?"

I shrug as though I can't care less. "Figured you might be into brunettes."

His mouth twitches. I can tell he is trying not to smile. "I don't discriminate."

I get back to swiping, surprised at how many profiles seem to have the same old descriptions like they've been copied and pasted from the internet. It took me forever to concoct the perfect About Me; I wish I hadn't bothered.

When I look up again, I see Jax has stopped swiping and is watching me carefully. When we first met as kids, I was certain his intense stare meant he was some kind of serial killer. I'm still not ruling it out.

"And you?" he asks. His voice sounds deeper than usual and somewhat velvety. "What's your type?"

"Tall, dark, handsome." I tick each one off on my fingers and realize I'm basically describing Jax.

His eyes gleam back like he's realized this, too. "How interesting."

"Personality is key, though," I say. "I'd want someone who was loyal, romantic, reliable."

Jax doesn't say anything, but I can tell he is thrown by my tone. I get back to writing my article. I don't know why I let myself get upset after all this time. Who cares if he ditches me when high school started? I didn't need him, anyway.

At some point, Izobel comes in and asks me if I want to look at the picture for my article. I nod and she takes a seat on my lap, pulling up a stock image. It's of a girl with curls so frizzy that she clearly has no idea how to manage them.

I sigh into Izobel's back. When I first joined E.C, I never in my wildest dreams imagined I'd be writing about hair care, but while we're under Mellissa's dictatorship, there's not much I can do but smile and grit my teeth.

"I know, I know, it's ridiculous," Izobel says, shaking her mane of black hair. "I don't see Jax being forced to write an article on the best hairstyles for Autumn."

She's right, of course. Jax gets assigned articles on sports and food and the latest technology. We get the haircare, the makeup, and the best colors to suit your skin.

"Hey," Jax says. "Do I need to remind you that Mellissa wants me to write a feature on the best color trainers?"

"Yes, poor you," Izobel says, getting to her feet. "Did you listen to that song I sent you?"

Jax's eyes light up the way they always do whenever he talks music. "Yeah, I love the riff. I spent all night trying to learn it on guitar."

As they chatter away, I can't help but take a second to quietly admire Izobel. Out of everyone in E.C, she's the one I probably talk to the most. There is just something so effortlessly striking about her dark skin and big hazel eyes. When she first joined Editorial Club, I was certain she and Jax would end up together the way beautiful people always do, but then Izzy came out as a lesbian, and Jax's hopes were dashed.

"Earth to Nyla," Izzy says.

Jax arches an eyebrow. "She has a habit of spacing out."

I scowl and say, "What?"