93 Sampler (2 page)

“Hello, Ashton,” I say, to which he doesn’t respond, before I turn to face the group again and we all collectively decide it’s time to start doing what we do.

Sure, he’s attractive. Very attractive. And I’d never deny that, when I first met him, his green eyes stopped me in my tracks for probably a solid minute.

But then he ruined all that by being so…
Ashton
.

I can’t say what it is about him that I don’t like. Maybe it’s the way he simply does not
care
. About anything. Grades, classes in general - as far as I’ve been able to observe. He doesn’t even seem to care about the people in this club, keeping to himself during our meetings.

Or maybe it’s the way he dresses, typically donning paint stained jeans and a hooded jacket, even now, in the after heat of summer. This shouldn’t surprise me. I’ve observed many types of people in my life, and I’m in
college
. I’ve seen students show up to class in their pyjamas, smelling of marijuana and cheap alcohol. Ashton’s attitude shouldn’t register in my mind.

Most likely, I think, it’s due to the fact that I know the guy has a lot of talent, even his absentminded doodles are good,  and yet he acts like he isn’t as talented as he truly is. If there’s anything I’ve learned through my entire life being centered around pop culture and celebrities, it’s that if you have a talent, you announce it to the world, until your name becomes synonymous with that very art form.

Nonetheless, I’m not sure why I care so much. It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again after this year of GDC. He’s a senior, and I’m a junior. This time next year, Ashton Lewis will be nothing but a guy I’ve spoken a few words to.

But he’s here, and no matter how much he confuses me, I’m stuck with him all year. My mother always tells me to be polite, and so I remain so with Ashton. A scandal can destroy any career, especially when you’re young. “So,” she tells me, “never do anything to cause one. Your reputation is the most valuable key to your success.”

And I know, of course, that my mother knows best.

▼

GDC passes quickly, with fun ideas and conversations throughout the hour or so we meet. Nothing gets confirmed, but it’s the beginning of the year; anything can happen between now and May.

Ashton, as always, was quiet. Doodling more than paying attention.

I’ll never understand him.

I make his ambiguity slip from my mind as a text sets my phone off.

Jackson: Free for lunch?

I’m about to reply and tell him I can’t, that I need to prep for my afternoon class, but another alert on my phone makes me question that decision.

Mother: I’ve given Chad Winston your cell phone number. He’s perfect for you, and for us. Please respond to him with interest. We cannot afford to lose him.

And that’s all it takes to change my mind about lunch.

Me: Yes! Can we please go to The Salad Bar on 3
rd
?

The Salad Bar
 is my favorite buffet restaurant, and though I know Jackson doesn’t care about it too much, he knows I only ever want to go there when I need to talk about my parents.

His response is instant.

Jackson: See u there

With a small smile, I switch directions to meet up with my best friend.

▼

“Hey, Carter!” Jackson hugs me as soon as I walk in, and I let him. He’s the only person who can get away with anything like that. It’s something I don’t even allow my parents to do.

Not that they would, anyway.

“So, why’d you agree to lunch? It normally takes a lot to get you to say yes to anything that isn’t thoroughly boring.” Jackson leads me towards where he’s been seated, and I sigh as I sit down.

“Mother has decided that Chad Winston is the one. I’m to allow him to court me to a potential engagement, which I should expect, and then accept, in a sensible eighteen months.”

Though none of this was stated outright in the text I’d received, I’d been given the same speech with every single husband candidate. I had memorized the speech by the time I was nineteen.

“Ugh. The future husband problem. This one’s straight, right? Have you at least met him?” Jackson asks.

I know he’s asking because of the last guy my parents liked. Jason Moore, the son of a famous actor, had only been taken off of the list when it was revealed (ironically enough, through Redford Entertainment) that he was gay.

I hold off on answering Jackson as we’re joined by a server, and while Jackson asks for a Dr. Pepper, I request a water. When our server leaves, we make our way to the salad bar, where Jackson immediately begins stacking his plate with the provided chicken. I notice how he only adds a couple of pieces of lettuce.

I do the opposite and load my plate with the actual salad options, barely even touching the chicken.

“Yes, he is straight, and yes, I’ve met him…” I trail off as we return to our table, remembering the one time I’d met Chad over the summer.

“And..?” Jackson hinted.

I sigh again, deciding to reply the way my mother would. “He’s a perfectly lovely gentleman, with an impressive reputation and a booming business that he will take ownership of in just a few years,” I say.

“Is he nice? Hot? Come on, Carter, you have to give me something!”

I take a bite of my salad, trying to figure out how honest I can be. “He’s… okay. He’s exactly what my mother wants me to have in a partner. And when we met him, my father loved the idea of making a business deal with him, so I can’t see him being against the idea. I guess he’s attractive, and my mother would say he and I could be a beautiful couple if given the chance.”

Jackson looks at me for a few seconds, then shakes his head sadly when he realizes that’s all I’m going to say.

“But what about
you
? What do
you
 want?” He asks.

I shrug, my response automatic. “I’m a Redford. We do what we have to do for the family name.”

Jackson groans, sounding so frustrated I actually feel my eyes widen slightly. “Carter, let’s be real. You’re talking to
me
, remember? If you didn’t have to worry about anything, if your parents weren’t who they are, would you want this Chad guy?”

“There’s no point in this, Jackson,” I say, knowing this is something we’ve argued over before. “I
do
 have to worry, because they
are
 the Redfords. What difference does playing what-if games make?”

“Just humor me,” he insists.

Jackson sounds so serious. He’s my best friend, the only one I’ve ever really had, and the look he’s giving me makes me feel like I’m letting him down. So I take a breath, and I imagine things are different.

“No. I wouldn’t want Chad,” I admit, slowly. My answer doesn’t surprise me, but it makes me feel guilty to say it out loud.

Jackson nods, seeming convinced. “Okay, good. So here’s my idea: get your own guy. Go on your own dates, and make yourself slightly happier. You have no say in anything else, you may as well pick who you eventually marry.”

While I, regrettably, find myself agreeing with parts of what he’s saying, I still laugh. “And how am I supposed to get a date, oh wise one? I’m too direct to be flirty, and any guy I try to talk to tends to get intimidated.”

I love the times like this, when I can relax enough to say what I really think. Only with Jackson do I ever let loose enough to tease.

However, the grin he sends me tells me he’s been waiting for this conversation for a while, and I’m instantly a little wary about what I just got into.

“You, my friend, are going on
Blinder
.”

I frown. “
Blinder
? Does it mace you in the eyes or something?”

Jackson chuckles. “No, it’s a dating app. Blind dating, to be exact. You sign up, answer questions, and the app matches you to someone with similar answers. No pictures, no summaries, just questions about your opinions and views. Literally a blind date. When you match with someone, you can message them and arrange a meeting.” He takes a breath, but continues on with his rapid sales pitch before I can say anything. “You need to try it. It’s got a really high second date rate, and there’s no crazy fees or anything so your parents never even have to know.”

I bite my lip. “Jackson, that sounds like a terrible idea. Haven’t you ever heard of the Craigslist Killer?” I question, but even with that risk, there’s a little part of me that’s a bit curious.

“Yeah, but think about it. Would you rather take a chance on dating someone random and the one in a million chance they kill you, or go through with your mom’s attempt to set you up with a guy whose name is
Chad
?”

I eat more salad to avoid answering. Now that I’ve admitted it out loud, I know that I do not want to marry Chad. And what was the worst that could happen by trying this app? Besides possibly being murdered, that is. Which was only a one in a million chance.

“Okay, a compromise,” I finally say. Jackson smiles, knowing he’s won, but I stay firm. “I’ll do it, and go on one date. If it doesn’t work out, we find something else. And I need to be able to text you a code word if there’s a chance he’s an ax murderer.”

Jackson holds up his hands. “Hey, whatever works. All I ask is that you give it a try.”

I nod, pull out my iPhone, and am surprised to find
Blinder
 one of the first apps on the store. It must be more popular than I realized.

Once it’s downloaded, I show Jackson what I’m doing so he knows I’ll follow through on it.

Jackson frowns at my screen. “You know your name isn’t Audrey, right?”

I give him a look, one that he knows means he’s not thinking correctly. “My name is Carter. No
guy
 who wants a
girl
 is going to risk a blind date with a
girl
 who has a name no
girl
 has ever had before. And I invented the fanclub of Audrey Hepburn. I’m allowed to use her name.”

Jackson shakes his head. “One, I’m sure there are girls named Carter in the world. You just haven’t met them yet. Two, it’s probably a bad idea to use a fake name.”

I ignore him, adding the rest of the basic information. I race through the questions easily, wondering how something that asks a question as simple as “City or country?” could have such high ratings.

Just a few minutes later, my profile is created, and I turn on the notifications before I put the phone back into my bag.

“Done,” I tell Jackson.

He smiles, flashing his impossibly white teeth at me. “Just you wait. I have a feeling this is going to be the best idea I’ve ever had for you.”

I don’t say anything, but some small part of me wonders what he just got me into.

I roll my neck and try to relax. I’ve got three classes today, including one on mixed media art, which has always been one of my weaker spots. The hot shower feels great on my skin, and the scent of my body wash fills the room.

I try to think about what happened Saturday night, most of which I can’t remember. There’s a thought at the back of my head that something important happened but no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember a damn thing. I must have been
really
 drunk. I recall a small party with a few friends, some vodka and beer, and a drinking game where I ended up having to take a drink on almost every sexual category. That’s probably how I ended up so messed up that I can’t remember anything past what happened when my friends went home.

I sigh. Whatever it was couldn’t have been too bad. I had woken up with a killer hangover but Sofia hasn’t said anything about a warrant being out for my arrest, or me trying to jump off a roof for fun - which I refuse to confirm as something I’ve been known to do - so I guess I’m in the clear. Still, drinking so much is not a good idea and I probably shouldn’t make a habit of it.

There’s a knock at my bathroom door. Sof and I each have our own bathroom because she refuses to share a bathroom with a man, and I didn’t want to shower in a room that smells like her strong watermelon scented shampoo.

“Yeah?” I call out, hopefully loud enough.

I hear her open the door, I assume so we can hear each other better. “Dude, how come you didn’t tell me you were on
Blinder
?”

My fingers pause in my hair. “What the hell is a
Blinder
?”

“The blind dating app,” she explains. “The one where you answer the questions, get matched, go on a blind date, get laid, possibly never see each other again. A lot of people use it.”

I shake my head but then I remember she can’t see me. “I have literally never heard of that.”

Her voice is a little louder when she proceeds, “well your phone beeped, I checked to see if it was something important so I could tell you, but I saw it was a
Blinder
 notification. You matched with someone. Thought you’d like to know.”