Catfish

Chapter One: Samantha And Sam.

Here's the thing. I'm not usually the type that tries online dating and stuff because I have good enough looks to get by. At this point in my life, I'm ready to actually meet someone and settle down. When you meet someone in a bar, all they really want is sex and nothing else. They don't care about the person who's inside them. That's why I've been chatting to this cute brunette called Samantha.

She's seen pictures of me.

Naked ones, too.

Shame isn't really my thing, so I didn't have a problem sending some pictures of me nude, splayed loud and proud. She got a kick out of it. Teased me about the size of my dick. I know it's big and she's just being playful, so I wasn't offended.

Future reference for any of you ladies reading this: guys don't like it when you compare the size of their dicks to other guys or any object. You can make it out to be bigger than it is—the second you say it's anything below average, that's a deal breaker.

There are other girls that have been messaging me about hookups, but I turned them all down. That isn't what I'm looking for on here. If I wanted a fuck, I'd go find it.

How was work today, Dean?

My face lights up when I see that Samantha has messaged me. It's odd to me, but I don't mind. Whenever I see her icon go green on the side of the screen, I wait in anticipation for her to start up a conversation.

Hey, I don't wanna look like a stalker and text her the second she signs on.

Slow. Not a lot of people want their cars touched up these days. They just buy a new one.

Do you have to work or do you just like to?

I've got enough money to live off, if that's what you mean?

Yeah. It's nice that you enjoy what you do.

Why, don't you?

Not really…

How come?

I'd really rather not say. Actually, I can't talk much today. Sorry, Dean. Speak to you tomorrow?

Yeah. One sec', Sam. Do you think we could meet up someday?

My eyes penetrate the sight of her username typing a message. She didn't wait long to start responding. That's what I really like about her. She's open, and she has no time for bullshit! My kind of girl…

Sure. But, you'll have to be ready for what you might see. If you reject me, I won't chase you. See ya', Dean.

What does she mean by that? I've seen her pictures. She looks fantastic. What could I possibly not like? It's putting me on edge because now I have no idea what to expect. But I really want to see her.

My heart is beating loudly in my chest right now. Samantha is on her way. She told me she would meet me here in the next twenty minutes. She's not late yet, so I'm not anxious about the time. I'm still anxious about being ready for what I might see.

It's had me on edge for the past week. That's how long it's been. We've still been talking on IM. She's been a bit depressed. She told me that situations that she's been in a few years ago have caused her to seek out therapy sometimes.

This did make me a little skeptical at the time. But she's been open with me since we started talking, so I made nothing of it.

I decided earlier not to go crazy on what I was going to wear for our first visit. I don't want to seem desperate in front of her. If she went all out, I'd be able to tell. Not that I would hold it against her… It would just mean that she really wants this to go well.

I do, too.

"Hi, are you Dean?"

"Samantha?" I choke.

I haven't been had, have I?

"Actually, it's Sam. Samantha is my twin sister," the brunet replies. I can see he's telling the truth. He looks exactly like Samantha, only with shorter hair and slightly more defined features…

I clear my throat and rub my hands together. "So, uh, where's your sister?" My eyes betray me and look behind the tall man to see if I can see her. She's nowhere in sight.

Sam sighs. "She's shy, Dean. She asked if I'd make sure you weren't just a pretty face," he relays, openly checking me out.

"Dude, my eyes are up here, okay?" I snap.

He throws his hands up. "Sorry, Dean. Some guys take it as a compliment. Guess you're still stuck in the nineties?" He mumbles it like a question, but I think it's a statement.

"Hey, I have no problem with gays, or any sexual orientation, but it still makes me uncomfortable when a guy looks me over without even trying to be subtle!"

I honestly have nothing against homosexuals.

Sam pouts playfully. "From what Samantha told me, you like honesty. Was that a lie?"

"Honesty, yeah. Leering, no."

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Sam walks off in the direction he came from. My eyebrow raises. "Are you coming or not?" I ask if Samantha is waiting over there somewhere. He tells me to text her that it's off, if I wasn't willing to go for a drink with her very tall older twin brother first.

Despite my sudden resolve to sleep off this disappointment, I follow after him. Before long, we're sitting in a booth of an unfamiliar bar. He orders two beers for us. He sets one in front of me and mutters to forget about paying—it's just one beer.

"Thanks," I mumble in reply, nursing it.

"So, how much do you know about me?" I ask, recalling that he knew about my love of honesty.

He tips his head back as he drinks, sets the beer on a mat and looks at me. "You're Dean Winchester, a mechanic, age thirty, own a couple of properties, want kids someday and you love brunettes," he answers, adding on that he knows more, but he can't be bothered to bore me with my own life story.

We chat for a bit. I learn that he's pretty much exactly like his sister, minus the boobs and the vagina. We also share a passion for the gun range. My father used to take me to one whenever he had some free time off work, and the activity stuck. He explained that he started with archery, but later got into guns. He's also logged a lot of hours on Call of Duty.

I call him a nerd and he calls me a jerk.

I like this guy. He's cool, but he pouts a lot. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit that I thought it looked cute when he did it.

Still, I'd really like to meet his sister.

If she's half the girl she is online and half of what her brother is, I know that I've made the right choice.