APRIL

I'm not a fan of the system.

My sisters all make fun of me for it, saying that it should be my favorite thing in the world given that it's based on algorithms and statistics. Something didn't sit right with me about the data collection, but I knew that I had to go through with it eventually. The supposed 99.8% success rate had worked out perfectly for all three of my sisters, and quickly, too. Their relationships had all worked out, and they all seemed happy. As far as I can remember, at least. In hindsight, it all seemed blurry.

Sitting in the restaurant with my Coach on my lap, the point of my heel clicked against the floor beneath me as my leg jittered. Only so much could be done to mute the noise, it was a habit that I'd always fought while nervous. This was my first time going through with it, so I had all the reason in the world to be. It probably wasn't going to work out. What were the odds? A system like this had to be based on trial and error, breakups just as much as successes. Anything else would have been unexplainable, or a freak miracle. But the latter didn't work out when it came to statistics. I knew that much.

"Coach?"

"Yes, April?" The robotic voice from the flat, circular device answered.

"Am I in the right place?"

"Yes, April."

The reassurance doesn't make me feel much better, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. I put it in my purse and given a slight look around, straightening out the tablecloth in front of where I'm sat, adjusting my watch on my wrist for a moment before fidgeting with the cutlery. A careless motion sends the fork flying off of the table, metal clattering against the floor of the restaurant.

Quickly moving to pick it up off of the floor, I nearly headbutt myself into a pair of walking legs. "Sorry– fork!" I squeaked out the apology, straightening up too quickly and smoothing out the material of my dress with my free hand.

"Jackson." The stranger introducing himself to me was incredibly handsome, the kind of handsome that would have made anyone attracted to men stop and do a double take. Clear crystal green eyes, nearly as if he was capable of seeing every facet of my soul. The kind of eyes that people wrote and dramatized in books, romance novels, the worst kind of anti-feminist propaganda that drove bored housewives crazy with fantasies. He's over half a foot taller than me, at least, dressed wells. The slight fixation on his eyes cues me into the little freckles sprinkled delicately across his skin, and it takes a few more moments for me to realize that I'm staring at him like a dumbstruck fool. Dang it.

"Oh, uh, no, my name's not fork. It's April." I mumbled out quickly.

"I guessed." He brushed off easily, sending a dazzling smile my way.

"Do you want to sit?" I ask a little too quickly in an attempt to recover from my foolishness, returning the smile.

"I think it's that or stand." There's a little bit of awkward laughter passed between us, sitting back down in the half-circle booth first before he does the same. I give a restless adjustment and place the fork back on the table so that my hands are empty, pressing them against the tops of my thighs to try and keep them still. I talk with my hands whenever I'm nervous or excited, and tonight, it was a mix of both. Even if this probably wasn't going to work out, I didn't want him, or the Coach, to think that I was some kind of a neurotic mess.

"Sorry, I'm– I'm not usually like this," I began to apologize again. "It's my first time, you know, on the system." I don't know how that's going to make me sound to him, if he'll brush it off right away as another failure or if he'll be kind about it, but I felt like it was something that had to go out in the open. Knowing myself, I'd end up making it obvious one way or another.

"Me too." His answer is just quick enough that for a moment I have to pause and wonder if he's being honest, or just lying to try and make me feel better about my virgin status in the game. Hopefully it wasn't the latter. Lying for the sake of being nice just felt too contrived.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm winging it. To be completely honest, I was a bit nervous showing up," Jackson said with a chuckle, leaning back in the booth more comfortably. At least now it wasn't quite as creepy to examine him, seated together on a date. He's sharp looking, hair shaved short and allowing for the full attention to be on the features of his face. It worked well for him, really. I probably couldn't find a flaw on that face if I tried to, but there's something a little magical about sitting across from a man who looked like he could be some kind of supermodel. Especially since he seemed friendly enough, from the first round of things.

A small pause is taken between the two of them and I could only hope that the smile that I was offering him didn't look as awkward as I felt in the moment. He looked genuinely content in the moment, so he was either much less nervous than what he said or much better at hiding it than I was.

"Should we order food?" I suggested with a hopeful raise of my eyebrows.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he agreed, fetching his coach out of his pocket. "Do you uh, know how to order on these things, or–?"

Before either of us could get out a possible answer to the question, the device had already spoken up. "Menu choice already established." There's not much time to react to the information before a waiter was swinging by the table with two plates of food, setting them down in front of each of us. Our eyes meet for a moment and I can catch a glimpse of amusement twinkling inside of his gaze, clear as day that he thought this was as weird as I did. At least I wasn't completely alone with that.

My gaze dropped down to the bowl of ravioli set down in front of me. "I guess that I'm a pasta girl," I remarked with a small huff of laughter falling from my lips, glancing back up quickly to see what he had.

"And… I'm a fishcake." There was the amusement again, clear as day on his features. We both dig into to take the first bite of food, making noises of approval (or at least, I did) at the choices that had been selected for us. It's a little weird that everything is laid out so plainly, and I can't imagine why not having the choice of a menu of food isn't on the table. But that was a question for another time, I suppose. I didn't want to get too caught up with all of my inquiries of the system, even if with someone new. Mostly, I didn't want to scare him off quite so easily. Even if that wasn't entirely my choice.

"Can I try some?" Jackson asked, resulting in me looking up and around. There were armed guards watching, something that I didn't understand. Another thing that somehow felt wrong to question, even if I couldn't quite put my finger down on it.

"Are we allowed?" This time we both look around, examining some of the other pairs of dates to see what they were doing. "You know what? Doesn't matter. Here." I stab my fork through a piece of ravioli and lift it up for him, watching as he leaned forward and took the bite off of my fork directly. I can't help but give him a goofy little smile, already feeling my heart swell and finding him adorable, listening to the agreement that he offered up about my dish.

Swallowing my current mouthful of ravioli, a non-Duchenne smile is offered him for a brief moment. "Should we check our expiry date?" The question is an innocent one, and I can't help that it'd be something longterm. He seemed like a nice guy, or maybe I was just being blinded by the fact that this was my first match. But at least I could tell that he found some of the same things about what we were doing just a little bit ridiculous, even if we had both found ourselves in the same system.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed and nodded his head. "It's on this thing, right?" He asked as we both reached for our individual coaches.

"Mmhm. It's under info, I'm pretty sure."

Synchronized swiping occurred until we both found the page that we were looking for, and I took a deep breath, preparing myself for it. "We have to tap at the same time," I said with my finger hovering over the button, looking up at Jackson to see if he was ready. "So… three, two, one, go." The countdown is a little quick as we both hit the button, watching the screens in front our eyes change.

Twelve hours.

"Twelve hours?" I questioned, already feeling my heart sink into my stomach. It was stupid to feel this way and I knew it, this type of thing was bound to happen all the time, yet I can't help the disappointment curling there. It should have been the first big indicator to not bother getting attached to him, but it only made me wonder more about him. What was so different about the two of us that we were that incompatible? Was it just a time bomb waiting to explode between the two of us? It seemed illogical that any system would already be able to figure it out, and deduce such a short time together.

"Yeah, twelve hours," he confirmed with a bit of a sigh. At least it wasn't just me.

"That seems a bit short, doesn't it?" I questioned with a slight frown, lips pressing together in a thin line as I looked up at him. My gaze flickered between him and the device for a moment, realizing that a countdown had started. Oh. "Wow, that's… I didn't know that it would count down like that. That's kind of sad, isn't it? Just… doing that." My words trail off just a bit despite me trying not to sound like such a downer. I didn't want to ruin whatever time we had left by obsessing over a number.

"Maybe we should eat quickly?" He suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, yeah, we should. Totally." I agreed with a quick nod of my head as I set down the device to pick back up the cutlery from my plate.

"The race is on," he teased me before shoving a bite of fishcake into his mouth that was far too big, and I couldn't help but snort with laughter despite the food already placed in my own mouth, hand coming up to cover my face so I don't do anything drastically embarrassing. It flowed like that between us for a little while, scarfing down the remainder of our food to try and make the best of the little time that we had together. He had a good attitude, even with the tiny countdown that was placed on between the two of us. That was certainly something to be appreciated.

By the time that we finished our meals and exited the restaurant, there was a stream of little cart-like cars coming and going without a driver, electronically programmed for who they were picking up and where they were to be taken. I have to walk quickly to be able to keep up with him and his long legs, but it doesn't take long for one of the carts to stop in front of us.

"I guess this is for us?"

"Yeah, after you."

We both climb into the vehicle and settle down next to each other as it began to drive off at a reasonable speed. I'm not sure what to say to him, what the expectations are for a night like this. But after a few minutes in the vehicle, his hand had made its way to mine. I glance down at the contact to make sure that it's not accidental, before looking up at him with a sweet smile pulling across my features. Maybe it was just a short time together, but I supposed that didn't mean that the two of us couldn't go ahead and try to enjoy it while it lasted.

It's not terribly long of a drive before the vehicle, passing by part of an encircling walk, but eventually, it came to a stop in front of a tiny and well-lit house, the label 473 stuck onto the front of it. Having a place to ourselves for the night seemed… presumptuous, but I didn't want to comment on that, unsure how he might have felt about the matter. At least knowing that he was just as new to all of this as I was, I knew that he couldn't have any solidified expectations about whatever was to come once we got inside. A small upside to the both of us being newbies.

"So this is us," he commented as we both got out, taking my hand and walking up to the doorstep. I listened to the sound of the vehicle driving away, pausing for a moment to just look at it.

"Yeah," I agreed softly and stepped up with him. By the door, there was a hand scanner. No keys or mechanical locks were used for something like this, instead, the print scanner ensuring that only whoever was meant to occupy the house for the evening was capable of getting in. Smart, really, making sure that the system worked. But still the slightest bit creepy. "Do you want to, or should I?"

"It's all yours," he offered up.

I placed my hand on the scanner, and there's a soft beep and the sound of something unlocking. Jackson put his hand on the door and pushed it open slowly, peeking his head in the door to get a better look at it. My eyebrows raised up expectantly at him, unable to see inside of the house from the small opening and where I was standing perpendicular to the door.

"Oh, god… it's a shithole," he said.

"What? You're kidding!" I exclaimed, beginning to step toward him.

"Yeah, I am," he grinned at me before opening up the door entirely and stepping out of the way so that I could see for myself. I smile at him for a moment before giving him a playful shove of the chest and beginning to step inside of the house.

It was fully furnished and well lit despite the time of night, a fire flickering in what looked like an electric fireplace. The coloring of the living room was a little questionable but at least worked well all together, refined taste. It probably would have been a bit minimalistic if it weren't for all of the colors that were in the room. I step in a little further, doing a small twirl with my frame to get a look at the entire room, taking all of it in. It was only for a night, so none of it would absolutely drive me crazy. Probably for the best. "It's nice," I remarked, not wanting to be too critical of it in case he liked it. "I uh, like the lamp?" I offered up, a small chuckle slipping through my lips, distaste coming through much clearer than what I had tried.

"Oh yeah, really nice lamp," he teased my particular observation without missing a beat, a real smile broad on his features as he followed me further into the house. He was playful, certainly, in the kind of way that didn't make me feel bad about what I'd said. That was certainly a nice change of pace.

"Oh, shut up! You don't know me well enough to make fun of me yet," I retorted, unable to help my smile.

"Uh huh? So what's that, hour eight or nine?" Jackson replied back just as quickly, more than capable of keeping up with whatever quick wit I had to offer. It normally wasn't my specialty, but at least tonight, it seemed like I was doing a good enough job with it.

My eyes roll at his expensive but I leave the comment be for a moment, wandering further into the house and past the living room. Immediately behind it in the bedroom, a king-sized bed taking up a good portion of the room and covered with light satin blue sheets, ugly yellow throw pillows across the pillow of the bed. I pause for a moment and hear his footsteps coming up behind me, already unable to come up with some little one-liner to throw in his direction. I'd been trying not to act nervous for most of the night, but this was one thing that absolutely made me nervous, no matter how I tried to fake it.

"So… the bedroom." He commented bluntly, not offering up much more. I wasn't sure if he was waiting for me to initiate some kind of conversation about sex, or boundaries, but instead, I can't bring myself to say a word for it. I should, and I know that I should, but actually enacting on that particular subject was a tough one for me. Wetting my lips nervously, I take a few more steps over toward the next door, peeking my head into the bathroom.

"Yeah. Nice bathroom. Shower and bath," I comment off-handedly, desperately needing the distractor. He makes some noise to indicate that he's heard me, but I don't give him much of a chance to say more on the matter. "I'm uh, going to use the bathroom. Give me just a minute." I request before disappearing behind the door.

Despite my embarrassment, I do use the bathroom. But it wasn't the only thing that I intended to do in there with a moment alone, pausing after flushing and washing my hands, hoping that he wasn't standing outside of the door or capable of hearing me from the other room. This just seemed more like a question for Coach than him, particularly if he didn't know. Pulling the tiny device back out of my purse, the question is quick.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Question too broad. Please, narrow query." The monotone device responded.

I sigh, giving a little restless wiggle of my frame. "Are we supposed to just… go at it, then?" I try, not wanting to be terribly blunt about them after even if, for a few seconds, sex is the only thing that I'm capable of thinking about.

"Define go at it."

Damn it!"

"Are we supposed to have sex?"

"Participants are not required to take any specific action." I toss my head back in frustration at the lack of clarification that it offers. All I wanted to know was if it was an expectation for such a short amount of time, unsure of what else to do. Staying up till late hours of the night and baring souls to one each other seemed like a silly idea when we weren't going to know each other for very long. Sex was… well, not entirely unreasonable, even if I'm not sure that I wanted to go through with something like that. Especially not on my first date. I wasn't sure if I was capable of being that girl.

But I knew that I couldn't hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night, even if it didn't sound like the worst idea in the world. Heading back out of the bathroom, I dropped my purse down on one of the chairs and put my coat down with it, not wanting to seem too uptight, and certainly not wanting to deal with the device for at least the next ten or so hours. The countdown was something that could be worried about in the morning.

Re-entering the living room, Jackson was already sat across one of the ugly yellow couches, his arm spans broad and draped across the back of it. It's easy from this angle to notice just how large he is, in every sense of the world, really. His muscles are somewhat well-defined beneath the shirt that he's wearing, and I wonder how absolutely tiny I must look from someone of his height. I know I'm not that much shorter than the average female, but he was definitely taller than the average male.

"You know, I could just sleep right here. It's plenty comfortable," he remarked, offering up a simple.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You'd be all scrunched up in a ball." I immediately refused with a shake of my head, giving a slight wave of my hand. "You're like, ten feet tall," I added on with a weak attempt to tease him, manage to muster up something resembling an authentic smile.

As if to try and disprove what I said, I watched as Jackson turned to lay on his side and pulled his knees up to his chest, the top of his head pressed right up against the arm of my sofa. The smile on my lips turns pitiful after only a moment and I shake my head once more to buttress my refuting standpoint once again, hand coming up to tuck an auburn wave of hair back behind my ear with the slightest huff of laughter coming out.

"It's not that bad," he attempted to tell.

"You're ridiculous. You know, the bed is plenty big. I'm sure that we can both fit in it." I stood firm. There was nothing wrong with sharing a bed – we were both adults, we could handle it. And he seemed more than eager to give that a go as he jumped back off the couch, making his way back to the bedroom and leaving me to trail behind him.

It's a little awkward as we both go throughout nighttime routine of getting ready for bed, and I'm not quite sure how to go about it. I try not to take too much time in the bathroom even as I wash my face and comb out my hair, slipping my bra out from underneath my dress to be more comfortable for the sake of sleep. When I come out of the bathroom, he's in his boxers and the same shirt from before. I stare for only a brief moment before he turns around and sees that I'm done, heading to the bathroom himself.

Settling down onto one side of the bed, I squirm around to try and get comfortable, finding some stillness laying on my back. Eventually, Jackson turns off the light and comes to join me. There's a distance between us in the middle of the bed, neither one of us sure whether or not it was appropriate to do something about it. And for a while, we just lay there in silence. I have to wonder if he finds it comfortable or awkward, if he was likely to fall asleep without having to say another word. My mind was reeling with thoughts, and the more rumination that occurred, the louder the silence around me became.

"It must have been crazy, before the system," I finally blurted out, needing something to fill it.

"What do you mean?" I hear the slight rustle of him turning his head toward me as he spoke.

"I mean, doing the whole thing yourself, figuring out who you want to be with…" I trail off uneasily, not wanting to dig too far deep into it in case he disagreed. Even if this wasn't going to be a long relationship, I didn't want him to walk away thinking poorly of me, and I didn't want to spend the last few hours of it under painful or awkward circumstances.

"Option paralysis, huh? Too many options, not knowing which to choose. Yeah, I get that." He offered kindly.

I wet my lips before continuing. "Yeah. And when things are bad? You have to figure out for yourself whether or not you want to break up with him, or if you should try and power through it." I added on, turning my head so I could look at him myself.

"Yeah, and breaking up with someone. That's gotta suck."

"Terrible," I agreed, a hint of a smile beginning to appear on my face despite the circumstances of the conversation. "Must be so much simpler, having it all mapped out like this. Not nearly as much confusion, or heartbreak."

"This is weird, though," Jackson countered, one eyebrow raising upward into his forehead. I laugh, nodding my head in agreement. Yeah, it was hard to argue with that. Meeting up with strangers, knowing exactly how long you were going to spend in each other's lives, pouring yourself into a relationship that wasn't going to be permanent? It was weird. And even if it was exactly what I was doing right now, I could recognize that for myself.

We both smile at each other for a few moments longer before our heads return to looking back up at the ceiling, the silence between us suddenly much more comfortable than what it had been before. A few seconds pass before my hand crawls over to take one of his much larger ones, fingers intertwining with his. Only so much quiet could be tolerated before the both of us drift off to sleep on our own schedules, quiet breathing soon being the only sound to fill the room.

When I wake up in the morning, his breathing is much closer than it had been before, and I realized that we'd ended up curled up against each other somewhere in the middle of the night. A sleepy smile filled my lips and I paused to enjoy it for a few seconds before the reality of the time ticking down hits me. I don't know what happened if you ignored it, but it seemed like it was something not to do.

I slipped out of bed, not wanting to make a big deal about it despite the warmth that flooded my mouth. Going to the bathroom to get fully dressed again, by the time I come back out, he was already up and sliding into his pants again. When I pull my Coach out of my purse again, the countdown shows that there are only a few minutes left of our time together. Made sense, given the short start that we'd had, and yet it's disappointing to look at once again.

Holding back a sigh, I pull on a coat and make sure that I have everything. Once he's done the same, the two of us head toward the front door of the house a bit slowly, neither one of us really wanting to give up on the time that we had together. There felt like no logical reason for us to be splitting up so soon other than being told to. Questions ran through my mind about the hows and whys that would put something like that together, how it could possibly determine before we even really got to know each other. Maybe that was just what it was like for everyone's first date.

"Well, uh.." I start awkwardly once we're out of the house, turning on my heel to face him. Without thinking, I reach out and fix the collar of his shirt. "Thanks for being my first." I offered up, unsure what else to say. As my hand falls back down, he takes me within one of his.

"Yeah, yeah," he agreed. "It was great, you know. You were nice."

"So were you." I echoed quickly.

Before there's a chance for much more to be said between us, each of our devices is beeping as a reminder that the few minutes that we initially had left had now become seconds. I give a glance down at the circular object in my free hand, less than twenty seconds left flashing on the screen.

"Thanks..." We each take a step back, our hands lifting up to compensate for the distance between us.

A long look is shared before the beeping resumes once again, and the system forced us to separate to our own vehicles. Maybe next time.