Troublemaker by Kayley Loring

Author:Kayley Loring [Loring, Kayley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-12T16:00:00+00:00

19

Alex

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

Subject: How’s it going, loverboy?

Just checking in to see if you’re already engaged thanks to the WooHooCupid profile I helped your son create for you during school hours. If so, you’re welcome. If not…maybe you should consider changing your profile picture. <shruggingwomanemoji>

Best,

Emilia

I have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about. But it’s been a while since I’ve heard from her, so I’m still somehow turned-on by three weird sentences and an emoji. As much as I want to respond immediately, I better find out what I’m dealing with here first.

“Ryder…” I get no response because he’s watching Pokémon. Time to switch on the Dad Voice. “Ryder! Get in here.”

“What? It’s almost over.”

“Pause it. Now.”

I stare at the email, checking for a naked photo attachment, but as always, there isn’t one.

He stomps into the kitchen, barefoot, his head and arms hanging limp. “Whaaaaaat? Is dinner ready?”

“Did you set up a WooHooCupid profile?”

I watch as about fifteen different expressions flicker across his face, and the one that finally sticks is: ohhhhh shit. “Oh yeah.” He grins. “I forgot about that!” He throws his hands up in the air and then scratches his head. “Don’t be mad, okay? I can explain.”

The seven words every parent loves to hear.

He grabs the laptop from the kitchen desk area and brings it over to me, opening it up and typing in a web address with his index fingers. “I didn’t make it go alive yet, so it doesn’t count.”

“What doesn’t count?”

He types in the login, because of course a seven-year-old would have a login for a dating website. “I made you a new email account first,” he informs me, in the same tone of voice he’d use to tell me that he saved me a cookie.

“How were you even able to do that?”

“Cheyenne helped me.”

“Of course she did. And Miss Stiles helped you set up a dating profile for me?”

“Did she tell you about it?”

“She just emailed to ask me about it.”

Ryder smacks his lips together. “I think that might be a good thing.”

I’m about to ask him to thoroughly explain what he’s talking about, but he no longer has to. Because I’m staring at a profile picture of a drawing of me. I’d praise him for it, because he’s really good at drawing and doesn’t even know how talented he is and he gave me really huge biceps and pecs—except I’m staring at a fucking profile picture of my son’s drawing of me on WooHooCupid. With the handle MisterDadPants13. I guess MisterDadPants 1 through 12 were already taken.

“You set this up at school? With Miss Stiles?”

“At lunchtime. She helped me type the answers for the questions.”

Well, this should be life-affirming.

“You’re sure you didn’t submit it and make this profile public?”

“Yes.” He nods vehemently. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Did you use a credit card?”

He shakes his head. “It’s free. Can I have a credit card?”

“No.”

I scroll through the questions that have answers.

What I’m all about:

I have nice hair and a really cool son who is the best kid on this planet.

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