“Hey.” The harsh whisper startled Cat; she jumped a little in her bed, eyes opening to see Hannah standing over her, bag on her shoulder. “When’s your class?” Cat groaned, covering her face.

“What time is it?” she muttered. She didn’t get to sleep until--what, four in the morning? She just spent the whole night texting Pumpkin, catching up, reconnecting. They never even spoke about why she left the app in the first place, or why she never thought to get his number. They just joked about recent events, and even, for the littlest bit, debated some politics. Nothing too heated--they seemed to be perfectly aligned with their views on immigration reform. Apparently PumpkinKing came from a family of immigrants, too. It felt like an inappropriate time to ask where from; though, now, she imagined he had some sort of sexy, foreign accent. Maybe French or something.

Hannah’s nudge forced Cat’s eyes back open. She hadn’t realized she was falling asleep again.

“I’ve got class, and I know you have class. I’m just making sure you aren’t skipping. Also, you forgot to plug your phone in all night.” Hannah’s voice wasn’t quiet and whispery, now that Cat blinked into the light of the open blinds. Cat glanced to her hand, where her phone still nestled between her fingers. The red LED light blinked, indicating it was going to die soon. Cat yawned.

“I’m not skipping. But I guess I forgot to turn on my alarm….” Another, louder yawn came through. “Thanks for waking me up.”

“When did you get back from work last night?” her roommate asked, retreating to the mirror on her side of the room. “You look exhausted.”

Cat couldn’t contain her smile. “I got back at midnight, but I was catching up with...an old friend ’til four.” Not that old of a friend...but it did certainly feel like she’d known him for a lot longer than just a semester.

Hannah spun around, grinning from ear to ear as she said, “You’re opening up again?”

“Baby steps,” Cat confirmed as she sat up in her bed. Her shoulders popped in unison, her back slightly tweaked from falling asleep in that weird position.

“I’m proud of you, Kitty Cat.” The surge of warmth in her stomach gave Cat enough energy to get ready for her day.

Cat had managed to charge her phone enough so that she could keep talking to PumpkinKing throughout when she closed for work again. Despite being utterly exhausted, she still found herself with the tiniest bit of energy, enough to finish her shift without passing out. It probably had a lot to do with their conversation.

So, I was kind of wondering..., his message started out, if you’re an old man trying to catfish me. He wasn’t direct, but she knew exactly where this was going. She held her breath while he continued, Which would suck, because it would be even more humiliating to admit that I’ve had more fun talking to you through text than I’ve ever had physically seeing someone. He wanted to meet, she realized nervously. She knew this would come up soon. Cat used the entirety of the dinner rush of coffee addicts to decide how she felt about what he said, what he was actually looking for. She missed talking to him, she liked him...and knowing he felt the same made her heart feel like someone put a taser to it, but….

Cat sighed. If I were catfishing you, I think you would have given me money by now….which I won’t say no to.

It took several minutes for Pumpkin to come up with a response. She knew she wasn’t making it easy on him. Maybe she should have settled for brutal honesty rather than just avoiding it.

I’d need to know your name to give you any money. Oh. Clever. She was so tempted to just give it to him, too, but she held back when a surge of anxiety coursed through her veins just by typing her name once.

On her break, Cat sat behind the coffee shop by the dumpsters, shivering in her coat and staring at her phone. No matter how many times she started and stopped a response, none of it seemed to fit.

I kind of like the anonymity, she typed back, hoping it was gentle enough. She didn’t want to flat-out say no to meeting him. Just maybe not right now. I like getting to know you, too, but I don’t know if I’m at a place where I’m willing to risk very much. The worst thing in the world would be to meet him in person and find out he was some sort of serial killer. Or worse, what if he was an old man trying to get her to give him money? She’d seen enough Dateline episodes to know that the long game was never too long. But most of all...she just couldn’t handle him turning out to be a creep, too. It was hard enough to get to this point for someone she hardly cared about with the whole Nate situation. If Pumpkin turned out to be like that, how would she ever--

How about a compromise? he messaged back. She stared at her phone, and just sent him a question mark. How was there a compromise between meeting someone and not?

Cat’s break ended before she got any clever replies from Pumpkin, but it made her stomach swirl too fast for comfort while she continued pretending to smile at strangers as she took their money. But at some point, she got a chance to look at their chat. His response was a link. The preview said, “Watch movies in sync with your friends from anywhere in the world! Just log in, share a code, and view the same screen.”

Pumpkin waited a few more minutes before he added, Anonymous date?

How…?

Make a new email address, sign up for this site, and we can watch a movie together. No meeting necessary.

After praying briefly that the link he sent wasn’t a virus, Cat clicked it to open it on her phone. Bunny.tv was a site that streamed a person’s Netflix account; it even had a chat box and a “request to pause” button. The edges of her smile reached her ears before she even realized how much she loved this idea.

Too forward…? Pumpkin messaged when she still had yet to reply. Laughter bubbled up to her lips from the swirling butterflies in her stomach.

This was perfect. When’s our date?

Waiting until Wednesday night to have her first official date with Pumpkin was torture. Classes ticked by so slowly on Tuesday, and to make things even worse, she had her first tutoring appointment right after her pre-calc class. Or rather, not-tutoring-appointment, so Peter didn’t get in trouble for violating his contract.

They sat in the cafeteria so Cat could scarf down some food. She missed having lunch with everyone, but Peter reassured her that simply being in the class, even if she didn’t understand what the professor said yet, was going to help. The professor was an elderly man that seemed to think everything in the universe was because of the math around them, and he didn’t seem to have any time to interact with anyone that disagreed--which was the majority of his students. People would raise their hand to ask a question or ask him to repeat something, but he droned on, ignored them, never looking up from the book or the board he wrote on.

Cat slumped against the cafeteria table Peter picked with her hand holding her head up, sleepy. It was hard to be excited about anything after a hour and a half of her life was wasted. And right now, they sat in silence as Peter went over her meager notes, his eyes studying her handwriting intensely as he compared it to the syllabus.

“I hate it when professors bounce around in math classes,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. “The books were built this way for a reason. He should have explained these concepts at the beginning of the class.” It had been maybe ten minutes of Cat sitting, bored out of her mind, while Peter muttered to himself and asked her questions about how her professor was. She’d tried asking how long he would be, and five minutes ago he said he’d be done in a minute. She was paying for this?

“How do I get free tutoring like everyone else?” she asked as she stabbed at her Caesar salad.

“Don’t be a freshman, essentially,” he said with a shrug. “Tutoring is free for anyone who has attended the school for at least a year. It’s not even free for me.”

Cat sat up a little. “You have tutoring, too?” Peter finally looked up from her notes, his brows furrowed.

“Of course. Anatomy was difficult last semester. Lots of...memorization.”

She scowled. “Ew.”

“That wasn’t an innuendo,” he said through a sigh. He didn’t sound like he was in the mood to talk about it, though, and immediately went back to her notes. And, since she was paying him for this, she bit her tongue at all the sharp jabs she could spit at him. But why was he taking so long figuring out where she was lost? She didn’t write that much during the exactly two classes she attended. What could be so hard to decipher?

“Do you like tutoring over repairing cell phones?” She tried to take the boredom out of her tone, but feeling this restless, just wanting time to pass and not to have to experience anything until tomorrow night, was making her so antsy. She didn’t want to talk about math. She wanted to joke with Pumpkin about the sad state of the world, and exchange favorite YouTube videos and watch whatever documentary he had picked out for them to watch. But instead she was here, struggling to learn pre-calc. Peter nodded, but didn’t say anything to her question. She switched tactics. “Do you ever get to hang out with Georgia even though you don’t work with her anymore?” Finally, Peter looked back up from her notes.

“Yeah, I actually just hung out with her this weekend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she likes to take me to bars so guys don’t hit on her.” Only one dimple appeared to punctuate his crooked smile, but it was genuine. He was just trying to remain so serious and stoic so that pre-calc could be as boring as possible.

“That’s funny.” Cat actually laughed. Georgia was a genius. She imagined Georgia hitting on all the girls that went up to Peter, stealing their attention, sort of like how she did Cat at the water polo party last year. “But then she prevents the girls from approaching you.”

Peter shrugged as he flipped a page in her pre-calc book. “Win-win situation.”

Cat squinted at him. “Are you...switching?” Cameron would be pleased to hear about that.

“Hm?” He didn’t seem to understand until he looked up at her. “What? No. I’m not...I’m just not doing that right now.” Pft. She rolled her eyes, mind bouncing to the other parties she saw him at last year. Tanisha, Hannah--and even semi-secretly dating Kelsey. He was almost as bad as Cam.

“Going out with girls? Why not? You went out with--”

Peter interrupted her. “I’m almost done reading this stuff, just give me a minute.”

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“I’m trying to see what you’re not getting.” Cat groaned. “I’m doing you a favor, here.”

She sighed. “Yeah, yeah…just that I’m sitting here...doing nothing.” Being useless. Being helpless. Again.

"You could go bar-hopping with Georgia to stop guys from hitting on her.” Cat laughed dryly.

“Yeah, I’m not...not into that either.” At least at the moment. She was perfectly content not drinking and texting her random Internet stranger.

“You just interrogated me on it, and you’re not even--”

“I’m already...kind of seeing someone.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “You are?” His shock would have been insulting if she didn’t know him so well.

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

“I--” How was she going to tell him that he didn’t know them because she didn’t either? There was absolutely no way she could explain that to him and come out of this with the same amount of dwindling pride she came to this fake-tutoring session with. “Just someone. Kind of.” She shrugged, hoping it was enough.

“Oh.” Cat squinted at the tone in his voice, high, sort of judgey. “I didn’t--I mean, good for you.” Why was he being so weird about it? Because she could get a date and he couldn’t? But his expression, distant, reflecting, made her defensiveness disappear. He wasn’t jealous. “I’m surp--but I mean it’s good...after everything.” Cat stared at her hands, fidgeting. She’d love to be irritated at his surprise, but she understood it completely. It wasn’t as if he didn’t practically force her to go to therapy so she could deal with her “trauma” like a normal human person.

“Yeah.” Now her stomach felt weird. Maybe this whole thing with PumpkinKing was too fast anyway. She didn’t even know him. Was going on this anonymous date a step forward, a sign of healing, or was it too soon? The sudden doubt almost made her want to ask Peter what he thought about it. But that would have been a mistake.

Peter cleared his throat and finally set her book on the table in front of her salad. “Anyway, I think I see what you’re missing here.” Well. At least he finished boring her to death so she had something else to think about.