The Love Hack

Ben

"Can you at least pretend to be paying attention?" Arty snapped, standing in front of me in the middle of the living room.

He'd been parading around in different outfits for the last hour, stuck in a loop of indecision about what he should wear for his first date with Leo. And for the life of me, I couldn't find it in myself to pretend to care.

I sighed, dragging my hand down my face. "Arty, you've tried on every shirt you own. Twice. You look fine."

Arty's eyes widened, and I could practically see the lightbulb over his head. "You're so right, but I haven't tried on your shirts yet," he exclaimed, scurrying down the hallway.

I groaned as Arty darted into my bedroom. "That's not what I meant!"

I slumped back into the couch, feeling numb as I was watching the chaos begin to unfold. Just a few days ago I was desperately trying to talk him out of it, and now here we were– Arty had actually done it. He'd gone behind Judy's back, altering the program to match with Leo. And it worked.

I mean, I knew it would work. Arty was smart. Way smarter than I'd ever be.

But a naive part of me still hoped it wouldn't work.

And now tonight Arty and Leo were going on their first date, a date that shouldn't even be happening in the first place.

I stared at the ceiling, letting the realization sink in again for the hundredth time. Arty had made this happen, because he wanted this to happen.

Leo was the guy Arty had been obsessed with for months, his dream guy. Arty's wildest dreams were all coming true tonight. I knew I should be happy for him, but there was this permanent knot in the pit of my stomach that I just couldn't shake.

Arty ran back into the room, giving me a dramatic twirl. "How about now?"

He was wearing one of my few button ups, with a geometric print that screamed of the 80's. It would have been ridiculous on anyone else, but on him it was quirky and charming. The soft blues brought out the warmth and depth in his eyes, and I found myself staring longer than I should have, admiring how easily he could make even something of mine look so much better.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away before my thoughts started to wander into dangerous territory.

Arty stared at himself in the long mirror in the entryway. He fussed with the collar, pulling it one way then the other. Then tugged at the hem, tucking it then untucking it. He was stalling— I could see the nervousness clearly written on his face, the way his lips were twisted and his eyebrows tightened.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen his pre-date routine, but it was the first time that I'd seen him care so deeply.

I could still remember the time Arty had gone out with some guy from his computer science program. Arty had Facetimed me from his dorm room, talking in detail about a group project he had and how they were making an AI to generate Yelp reviews. He was excitedly showing me examples, some believable and some horrifically stupid. We'd laughed over them for nearly an hour before he offhandedly mentioned his date.

He'd spent about five minutes max getting ready, complaining the whole time about how he hated trying to impress people. He laughed that cologne was the human equivalent of a car air freshener, and eventually he'd scrambled out of his room in some clothes that he'd picked up off the floor. The message was clear– Arty did not care what this guy thought of him.

The guy had still asked him out for a second date, but I'd never asked for any of the details.

I blinked, shaking off the memory. The Arty in front of me seemed like a completely different person from the guy who'd picked up wrinkled clothes off his dirty dorm room floor and gone for sushi.