Chat Now

After work I tossed my bag into the corner and powered on my computer. The screen flickered to life slowly as the internet dragging at an agonizing pace.

Come on. Hurry up.

My eyes darted to the chatroom roster. Was he here? I scanned the names, my pulse quickening, and then there it was. His name. And next to it, that small, glowing green dot. Available. Free.

A grin tugged at my lips, probably ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I opened a private forum for us, held my breath and put my fingers on the keyboard.

*MissLady* Hey! I’m finally home!

*CoolGuy191426* Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting 4eva

*MissLady* Blame my boss. He made us work overtime.

*CoolGuy191426* That’s a first. You never take overtime.

*MissLady* Yeah well this project was long and hard and I had to give it some extra attention to get through all the mess.

*CoolGuy191426* …....

*CoolGuy191426* I just choked on my drink.

*MissLady* You realize you have the dirtiest mind, right?

*CoolGuy191426* You realize you set that one up perfectly, right??

*MissLady* Oh, please. I’m innocent here. You’re the one twisting my words.

*CoolGuy191426* Innocent? You? With that long, hard line? Sure angel.

*MissLady* I was talking about WORK. Get your head out of the gutter.

*CoolGuy191426* Too late. It’s dark and comfy down here. And you’re blushing, aren’t you?

*MissLady* Maybe. Shut up.

*CoolGuy191426* Just saying, I’m starting to get jealous of your job. You spend so much time there, I wanna hang out with you too. I’d keep you coming back for more.

*MissLady* Please. I spend hours with you on here. Every. Single. Day. My job’s got nothing on you.

*CoolGuy191426* I’ve been thinking… You’re fun to talk to. I feel like we really connect. And you actually see me. Not just the flashy parts.

*MissLady* Wait, hold up. Did you just say you’re rich and hot? Babe, I’m on my way over. ; )

*CoolGuy191426* Oh, so now you’re interested? Guess I should’ve led with that. But what if I told you I was ugly and broke? Would you still be my friend?

*MissLady* Of course! I help all my friends. And don’t worry, I’ve got a job. We’ll get you some plastic surgery. You’ll be fine.

*CoolGuy191426* Wow, so generous. I’d do the same for you.

*MissLady* Please. I don’t need it. I’m gorgeous.

*CoolGuy191426* No arguments there gorgeous. But you know… I’d love to see you in person. Wanna meet up soon? I’m craving to see that perfection in person.

*MissLady* OMG. Do you think it’s safe? What if the ChatNow police find out? We’ll be banned for life.

*CoolGuy191426* They do say never reveal personal information. It’s right there in the rules. But hey… I won’t confess if you won’t.

*MissLady* IDK… what if we get caught? And then we’ll have to go to jail. So I guess maybe you can visit me in jail and then I’ll visit you.

*CoolGuy191426* Mmm… conjugal visits? Now you’re talking.

*MissLady* Only if you behave.

*CoolGuy191426* Oh, angel… if I’m getting one shot with you, I’m not wasting it.

*MissLady* Who says you’d get just one? ; )

*CoolGuy191426* Ohhh… now you’re really tempting me.

*MissLady* All I’m saying is promises like that might get you in trouble.

*CoolGuy191426* Baby, I like trouble. Especially if it’s you.

*MissLady* Good. Because if we get caught, I’m dragging you down with me.

*CoolGuy191426* Deal. But only after I’ve had my fill of you first.

*MissLady* …And now I’m rethinking this whole plan.

*CoolGuy191426* Too late. You’re stuck with me now. Wanna take this trouble off chat and meet up in the real world?

*MissLady* I’d like that. Do you know the fancy lounge bar off 5th Avenue and Main?

*CoolGuy191426* Sure do. Saturday at 7?

*MissLady* Perfect. But how will I know it’s you? What do you look like?

*CoolGuy191426* It would be funny if you had to ask every guy there, Are you CoolGuy? But I’ll spare you. I’ll wear a blue dress shirt.

*MissLady* Oh great, because only 40% of men there will be wearing one.

*CoolGuy191426* Okay, fine. I’ll wear a cowboy hat too. Howdy, partner.

*MissLady* You’re playing a dangerous game, cowboy.

*CoolGuy191426* Alright, hot pink sombrero it is. Final offer.

*MissLady* If you wear that, I might not be able to resist dragging you onto the dance floor and making you dance. All. Night. Long.

*CoolGuy191426* What about you? How will I know it’s you?

*MissLady* I have this stunning formal blue gown with a slit up my leg. You’ll love it.

*CoolGuy191426* A slit, huh? Well then… I might not be able to focus on anything else.

*MissLady* And I’ll be sitting at the bar.

*CoolGuy191426* I look forward to it.

*MissLady* Me too. P.S. No sombreros.

*CoolGuy191426* No promises.

MISSLADY HAS DISCONNECTED

COOLGUY191426 HAS DISCONNECTED

I couldn’t believe it. He had just asked me out! A startled laugh escaped as I threw my hands in the air, a rush of exhilaration surging through me. This is happening! This is really happening. Excitement bubbled over as I spun toward my closet.

Saturday is tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

I needed to get ready. I needed to— Dread settled in, cutting through the euphoria.

For all my playful flirting, the truth was… I had little real love experience. One unrequited crush in school. A brief, forgettable fling that barely lasted a month in college. Nothing that had ever truly mattered.

And now, I was stepping into completely uncharted territory. Flirting online was easy. I had time to think of clever responses, to craft the perfect comeback. I could pretend to be confident.

But in person? Could I really be that witty and charming face-to-face? I gave my cheeks a light slap, trying to shake off the nerves. I have to be.

Because I was really, really, into CoolGuy.

When we met, he had joined the chat room a second before I was about to log off.

CoolGuy191426 has entered the chat. It was a throwaway username. A stranger.

I should’ve closed the tab. Instead, I typed, “Hey.” His reply came fast. “Hi. I’m new here. Is this place always this quiet?”

I remember staring at that sentence longer than I should have. Something in it, light, curious, a little lonely, nudged me awake in a way caffeine never could.

We traded a few lines. Nothing profound. Weather. Music. The dumb loading glitches the site kept having. But each message stretched the minutes until I forgot I’d planned to sleep that night.

Then hours blurred by. The chat window glowed against the darkness of my room, the only warm thing in it.

He laughed—spammed three XD, actually—at something stupid I typed. And God, I wanted to make him do it again. I wanted to keep talking until the sun came up just to see what other pieces of him would spill through the screen.

One night became two. Then five. Then I stopped counting. Soon the world shrank to the thrill of waiting for her next message to appear. We didn’t “click.” We collided.

And now… somehow… it had come to this. He asked me out.

The words still pulsed in my chest like a second heartbeat. A real date. In the real world. My shot at proving I wasn’t just some sparkling personality filtered through a screen and a keyboard.

So I marched to the salon like a woman preparing for battle. By noon, three stylists were orbiting me: one tugging a brush through my hair, one shaping my nails, one leaning so close with a makeup palette I could feel her stare into my cheek.

Every snip, every brushstroke, every dab of color tightened the coil in my chest a little more.

When they spun me toward the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. Soft waves. Clean lines. Lips that looked like they knew secrets. I had asked for perfect. They delivered perfect.

But perfection didn’t quiet the butterflies. They were in a complete riot, slamming against the inside of my stomach like they were trying to escape. My hands shook so badly I couldn’t even lift a fork at lunch; the food sat untouched, abandoned after two miserable attempts to swallow.

And before I knew it, I was stepping into the fancy lounge bar. I was a little early, but not too much. Didn’t want to seem too eager, even though this had been the only thing on my mind for the last 24 hours.

The air hummed with jazz, the warm lighting casting a glow over plush seating and polished wood. In the back, smokers lingered over drinks. On the dance floor, couples swayed. And somewhere in this room… he was coming to meet me.

I slipped onto a barstool tucked into the corner. Best seat in the house: quiet, strategic, perfect for scanning the room. My heart thundered so loudly I was amazed the bartender didn’t complain about the noise.

Okay. Focus. I was looking for— Oh, God. Right. The shirt. Blue. But… what else? A cowboy hat? A sombrero? Both? Neither? Which one was it?

What if I couldn’t find him? What if he didn’t show up? Worse—what if he did show up and he was… ugly? Or stinky? What if I had fallen for some smooth-talking serial killer? Why was I only thinking about this now?

Heat crept up my cheeks as I gripped my glass of water, my fingers tightening around the cool surface. Hurry up, CoolGuy. Save me from my own brain before I lose it entirely.

And suddenly I heard a voice, “Why, hello, hello. And who do we have here?”