So this began as an entry for the Meet the Mate Contest. I didn't win, but I did get back into writing. Hope you enjoy this.






I'm currently in my living room contemplating a coffee IV because I've been up for forty hours straight trying to refine the beta version of my new website. I think it's going to be an instant hit and social media will be all over it, but first I need to convince my best friends to be my business partners.

Which might be a tiny challenge. Because while my friends are smart, savvy women, they are not very goal-oriented and tend to get a bit distracted from their life goals.

Like graduating and jobs.

Even though we haven't graduated yet (I have one semester left and they are midway through the six year plan), I know that starting my company now is imperative, because in the tech world, timing is everything. So I'm going to run myself ragged for a few more months until I graduate. It's not like I have a social life anyway. Which makes the subject matter of my site even more ironic.

I launch into my presentation of the new website and app I've designed over the last semester. I got the idea while creating my final project for my computer entrepreneurship class. I got an A and an offer from my professor for investment, so I know it's rock-solid. I come to the end of the presentation, and look over to my two friends, waiting for their reactions to my excellent presentation.

"So we are going to be paid to sext guys?" Alice and Rosalie say, almost in tandem.

So much for my excellent presentation. I toss my notes in the air. I should have made an angry cat video instead.

"Of course not. That's what you're coming away with from my ten minute spiel?"

"We're just kidding. I just like when you get frustrated. You get a huge, throbbing vein on your forehead. I've named it Peter," Alice says, like that's normal.

"Peter. Excellent. Like a dick. And it's throbbing too," Rose chimes in.

"Duh," Alice says. "Where do you think I got the idea, Rose?"

"Um, can we get back to this, please? You people are missing the point."

"I get it, Bella," Alice replies. "People sign up and we send them text messages and emails and stuff so other people will think that they have a girlfriend. But not."

"Er, yeah."

"Such a professional answer," she says sarcastically. "I'm not sure you're CEO material. Though I do buy into this whole 'Silicon Valley' nerd thing you have going, I'm thinking our clients need real girlfriends, not fake ones."

"You would know about fake and silicon."

"Please. My tits are one hundred percent saline," Rose scoffs.

"Silicon is making a comeback, Rose. I was thinking of doing a tiny ass implant," Alice says.

"I will totally plant something up your ass, Alice," I say, gritting my teeth. She bends over and wiggles. Of course she's not offended. "Can we get back to this?"

"Um, you brought up the tit talk."

I roll my eyes. "Look. It's a site for people who, for whatever reason, need a pretend girlfriend. Like if they have parental pressure to get set up all the time or pushy women always throwing themselves at them and can't take a hint. We will be there to offer our services. You'll be the fake girlfriends to start out. As we get bigger, we'll hire staff."

"It's like a dating site because we do profiles of the clients to see what they like, but no one ever meets?" Alice asks.

"Yes. They fill out a questionnaire that provides a backstory. That's what I want you to work on. You have the writing expertise. And Rose will be the expert at-"

"The booty calls," Alice interrupts. Rose throws a muffin at her head.

"There will be no booty calls! It's not Tinder, for fuck's sake. No physical contact at all."

"Lucky fuckers. They're getting me cheap. Twenty-five dollars. Pish." Rosalie scoffs. "I still think it should be more."

"My research shows that's a doable price point for the basic service."

"We don't we charge extra for booty calls? I think that's a lost opportunity," Alice asks. "Research that, Bella."

"Like she needs a poll to find out if we're doable for twenty-five bucks," Rose replies.

"Jimmy Christmas." I sigh. These two exhaust me. "Rose will obviously be the media expert-"

"Having tons of followers like a Kardashian-in-training doesn't make her a media expert."

"No, but my almost degree in business media qualifies me. And don't call me a Kardashian. I don't have a giant ass."

"Kim has two giant asses. I'm counting Kanye. And you do have a fuck tape," Alice retorts.

"We swore we would never speak of that again," Rose says through gritted teeth.

"You swore. Not me."

"Bella?" Rose whines.

"Don't include me in this again. I wasn't the one who drank the worm in Cancun. You're really lucky that you wore that Nacho Libre mask in it so no one can tell it's you. But can we please get back to business? Are you in or out?"

"Bella, do you really think this is going to work? I mean, are people that desperate?"

Before I reply, Rose answers, "It's a fantastic idea, Alice. I might use it to get my mom off my back if we can find some guys to work the site. Texts from a woman won't work. She won't believe that I've turned to the pink side."

I laugh. "Especially not after all the times she caught you with Garrett at your house senior year."

"Oh, Garrett," she sighs.

"That sounds like what you were yelling on prom night," I mutter.

"That boy sure knew how to eat some pus-"

"Ugh, Rose. Can we not go there right now? Or like ever?" I put my hand on my face and rub my eyes in frustration.

Alice does not concur. "Oh, this is a good story. I like the part when her legs were over his shoulders in the hot tub and she was doing a semi-handstand."

"All those gymnastics lessons really paid off." Rose sighs again, obviously reminiscing about her sexcapades.

"Ugh. Maybe I should have started a sex site. You two pros can't stop talking about it." I feel like throwing all my charts and projections I compiled out the window. These two could go on like this for hours, and while usually I'm amused, we're glossing over my company this time- and not the latest Buzzfeed quiz.

"I wish you had pics of Garrett's wang. Now that would've been a fuck tape to cherish," Alice says with a sigh.

"Because some fuck tapes are precious," I snark.

"Oh...his would be. That was one hell of a cock," Rose says wistfully. "Why do you think I can't find a decent guy now? No one can measure up."

"He was a total dick to you, Rose, when he left for college," I remind her.

"I know he was a dick. I meant that no one could measure up, literally. He was at least eight inches. He'd get so deep I think he bruised my intestines once."

"Are you sure you're not premed, Rose?" Alice asks. "With that excellent anatomy knowledge?"

"You're just jealous, Alice. Your last boyfriend, 'Little Mikey,' couldn't hit that right with a bat, let alone his tiny peen."

Alice stays quiet for a beat. "Agreed. I'm in, Bella. Maybe if we make a ton of money I can buy a well-hung boy toy to service me."

"I'm in too," says Rose. "Because the same."

"Maybe I should make a boy toy finder site instead. There's obviously a large market."

"That's a great idea, Bella. All of my mom's friends would use it. Those cougars have money, too."

"Definitely need to charge extra for booty calls on that app, Bella. I think you should focus on this idea instead."

"We can call it 'Findr.' Like with no 'E' in it. That's like a thing now."

"Ooh, Rose. I love it. You are a media genius."

Rose beams. I groan. Alice claps like a seal.

"I'll get on that male prostitute app right after I launch this one, okay? I'll need to make some bail money first."

"So touchy, Rose, isn't she?"

"We all just need to get laid. Maybe we can hook up with one of these desperate losers Bella wants us to chat up for cash."

"Excellent. Can you use that line in the media package? 'We'll hook up with desperate losers over the internet for cash.' "

"Okay, Bella. The sarcasm is getting a little over the top, now. Geez," Alice says, making a gesture to Rosalie that implies that she doesn't think I'm sane.

"Too much caffeine and not enough cock."

Alice and Rose laugh like hyenas. Or total cunts. However you want to label it. Though Rosalie is one hundred percent correct, I don't admit it to them. I just change the subject.

"So...names? I wanted your input."

"Loser. But spelled with no E."

"Loner. But l-o-n-r."

"How about 'you're both cunts' but with no E?" I say sweetly.

"That idea is terrible and doesn't even make sense. No wonder you need us," Rose replies.

"I guess we can go with your first choice," Alice says. "Though I think we should drop the 'E.' "

Rose agrees. "But you know she has this thing about spelling, Al. I'm getting pretty sick of her correcting my text messages."

"Oh! Yes...she does shouty caps at me all the time: 'UR IS AN ANCIENT SUMERIAN CITY, NOT THE SAME AS YOU'RE.' "

"She threatened me with bodily harm just last week when I wrote 'see you later.' " Rose says.

"Oh my god. You wrote the letter C, the letter U, and L-8-R. Like you couldn't type the actual words?"

"I don't know if I can handle this hostile work environment, Rose. What's the policy on leave for emotional scarring for this company?"

"Ooh. Good question."

"It actually is. Because I think I'm going to take leave based on this conversation with you two."

"See? Totally hostile," Alice says, side-eyeing Rose.

"Okay. Enough. Are you two are completely on board?"

They look at each other. Then at me.



"Then I guess Shipper is a go."






Many thanks the the lovely Cosmogirl7481 for reading this and still being my friend. You should be reading her new story, Scorched.

The wonderful MariahajilE pre-read this for me and said it didn't suck.

This is a short story and mostly finished. I will post every few days until completed. Then i will tackle the epilogue of Caught Looking for those that are still interested.