Misadventures of a Rookie (Misadventures #11)(68)

“Great. Now we need to come up with a username for you.”

“How about Piper Daniels? My name,” I said dryly.

“Do you even internet?” Hailey said with a groan. “No, I think not. We don’t need stalkers tracking you down and trying to make dresses out of your skin.”

I winced and rubbed at my temple with my fingertip. “If you’re trying to convince me this is a good idea, you’re not doing a great job.”

Frankly, all of this was giving me a tension headache. I glanced longingly at the TV as she continued.

“Relax. We’ll root out the weirdos. Now focus. We need a screen name. Think something cute. Something that speaks to who you are as a person.”

I paused, but all I could come up with was Piper Longstocking. Between my freckles and my dark-red hair, it was a nickname that had come all too easy to the less-creative relatives in my family. I suggested this to my sister, and as expected, she scoffed.

“Jesus. God, no. Nothing about that screams sexy to me.”

“I’m not trying to scream sexy. I’m trying to find friends,” I reminded her.

“Well, we’re keeping our options open,” she hedged in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Besides, there’s going to be a picture of you on the profile. I used that one from cousin Anna’s wedding.”

“The one where I’m sneezing?” I hissed, mortified.

“No. What do you take me for, woman? There’s another one. You look cute, trust me. Now, let’s focus this name on something you like to do or something about you. You’re all organized, right? What about something to do with that?”

“Planning Piper?” I suggested.

“I don’t like it. We need to make it sexier.”

“Hail—”

“I’ve got it. Okay. Typed and saved. Can’t change it now.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” I groaned.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad. Just, you know, roll with the punches.”

“And what punches am I rolling with?”

She mumbled at first, so low that I couldn’t hear her.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Fantasy Girl 29,” she said more clearly.

“What?” I yelped. “Are you serious? What kind of person is looking to be friends with someone who names herself Fantasy Girl 29?”

“What? You love fantasy stuff. You’re all into, like, Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings, so I thought—”

“That is not how people are going to read that, Hail.”

“Oh well. What’s done is done,” she said in a rush. “Now we just need to answer some questions. You’re a 29-year-old female with a bangin’ bod, and you’re looking for friendship, long-and short-term relationships, and casual sex.”

Panic shot through me, and I let out a squeak. “I am not looking for—”

“Aren’t you?” Hailey cut in. “Be honest with me for just a second here. What would it really hurt for you to get a good, rough bone in every now and again? It’s been ages since you and Tommy broke up, and I seriously doubt you found yourself a fuck boy to get over it, so—”

I wrinkled my nose. “No, I moved to a new city to start fresh and get away from him. Now come on, don’t…”

“Too late. Already done,” Hailey chirped. “No going back now.”

I pinched my nose between two fingers. “Right. Of course not.”

“Now let’s answer some questions. You drink occasionally, and you don’t smoke. Those are easy. You’re an animal person.”

“I’m allergic to cats,” I said.

“But you like them. Good enough.”

“Why do I get the feeling I should hang up and just let you do whatever you’re going to do?”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she pleaded in that sweet voice that made me want to hand her the moon on a platter. “Now let’s get to the real questions, shall we? Okay, if you were going to have one romantic night anywhere in the world, where would you choose?”

I thought hard. Some girls would say Paris. Others would say a picnic on the edge of a lake.

Me? I glanced at my paused TV and said, “In my apartment. Homemade dinner and some movies. Perfect night.”

Hailey groaned. “I’ll never understand how we came from the same people’s loins, but I’m writing it down because I love you, and surely there is someone out there who will too. Okay, next one. On a scale of one to ten, how adventurous are you?”

“One,” I said.

“Five, then,” Hailey corrected. “Nobody says one. They’ll think you cower in your apartment like a hermit, afraid to leave the house.”

“That’s kind of what I do.”

“But people don’t need to know that.”

And so it went. Over and over again—for roughly a million questions—Hailey asked me about myself and then corrected me to make me more palatable to other people. When at last we’d finished, she clicked into my profile and let out a contented sigh.

“Okay, here’s your description. Hey there! I’m Piper, and I’m looking for like-minded people to hang out with as I’m new to the city. My interests include Netflix, a good glass of wine, board games, and snuggly couches,” Hailey said.