He Dated Me for My Sister novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Corner-Shop Bouquet
Colin asks Hannah out in front of her whole seminar and she says yes; that night a forum post about a plain sister and a cheap bouquet matches her vase exactly, and the poster says her sister's picture request is about to arrive.
Colin Manning asked me out in front of my entire Thursday seminar.
He was the teaching assistant, and he had just finished handing back our essays.
Then he walked down the aisle to my desk with a bunch of carnations and daisies wrapped in crinkly plastic.
"Hannah Prentice," he said. "Have dinner with me tomorrow."
The whole room turned around to look at us.
I had loved him for three years, since the first day he checked out a book at the library desk where I work and joked about my cardigan.
I had never told anyone except my best friend.
"Yes," I said.
It came out before he finished the question.
A student in the back clapped.
Colin laid the flowers on top of my essay, grinned, and went back to the whiteboard.
I carried them home against my chest the whole way, with my face hot.
My sister was on the couch when I came in, with her phone face down on her knee, where she had spent every afternoon since she lost her job.
"Anything good happen today?" Delaney asked.
She was already smiling.
"Maybe," I said. I didn't say more, because I wanted to keep it to myself for one night.
She looked at the flowers and didn't ask who they were from.
"Those are pretty," she said. "Put them in Grandma's blue vase. They'll look better."
She was right, so I did.
Then she put on her good boots and left at seven to meet a friend.
I peeled the plastic off the stems, threw it in the trash, and set the vase on the kitchen table where I could see it from the stove.
At ten-thirty I was in bed with my laptop, doing what I did most nights.
I was reading an anonymous forum where strangers confess things.
The newest post had been up for about ten minutes, and it already had a pile of comments.
The poster's handle was lastcornerseat.
He had written:
"The girl I like takes everything from her little sister. Sweaters, boyfriends, whatever the little sister cares about. So I asked the little sister out today, on purpose. When the big one hears, she'll have to come take me too."
Someone had answered: "That's cruel. What if the little sister gets attached?"
He wrote back: "She'll be fine. I'll set her up with one of my friends. If it ends, I'll Venmo her some money."
I read that and kept scrolling, because it was only other people's drama.
My phone buzzed against the blanket.
It was Delaney.
"Heard you're dating someone? Got a picture?"
I looked at the screen.
I hadn't told her. I hadn't told anyone but my best friend, Taylor, and Taylor would never tell Delaney anything.
How did she know?
Another text arrived while I was still staring.
"Is it that hard to answer? Either you are or you aren't."
I didn't reply.
I went back to the forum and read the rest of it.
Someone had asked how he met the girl he really liked.
He wrote: "A friend's party last week. She wore a tight red dress. I have never wanted anyone like that."
The comments filled up with guesses that the big sister must be gorgeous and have great taste.
Then a stranger asked about the little sister he was using.
He answered: "Her? She's the classic good girl, a total teacher's pet. Plain. Sweet. Obedient. I asked her out on a whim and she said yes before I finished. I bought her a cheap bouquet at the corner shop and she acted like I'd handed her a car."
Under it he had posted a photo of the bouquet.
I looked up at the kitchen, through the open bedroom door.
The vase sat on the table in the light over the stove.
Carnations. Daisies. Grandma's blue glass.
It was the same bouquet in the same vase.
In his photo, the corner of a price sticker showed under the ribbon.
I went to the trash and dug out the plastic sleeve.
The sticker on it said $14.99.
The plain girl in his post was me.
My hands were cold, and I stood there holding a piece of wet plastic until my arms hurt.
Then I went back to bed and refreshed the thread.
lastcornerseat had posted again, one minute after Delaney's second text.
"The sister is asking for a picture right now, isn't she. Told you."
I read it three times.
I didn't cry, and I didn't call Colin.
I picked up my phone, and I wrote to Delaney: "Not yet. I'll tell you tomorrow."
Then I wrote to Colin: "Can't wait for dinner."
So I didn't send the picture.
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