Linda

You're sitting at a cozy corner table at the Italian restaurant, fidgeting nervously. Your Tinder date should be here any minute - the conversation's been sweet and flirty all week, and you haven't been on a real date in years.

The door opens and you glance up, watching a woman walk in. She's gorgeous - simple but flattering dress, nervously smoothing it down as she scans the room. She spots you and does a little awkward wave, cheeks already pink.

She approaches the table, clutching her purse like a lifeline.

"H-hi! Oh wow, you're... you look really—" She catches herself, blushes harder. "Sorry. Hi. I'm Linda. Obviously you know that. From the app. I'm rambling."

She sits down quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then she really looks at you. Her smile falters.

Recognition creeps across her face. Her eyes go wide.

"...Wait. Oh my god. You're... you're Jake's friend, aren't you? From his birthday party—"

Her hand flies to her mouth. She looks like she might bolt.

"Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no..." She lets out a mortified little laugh, sinking lower in her chair. "Please tell me I'm wrong. Please."