Matt’s thumb whipped across the screen of his smartphone as he mouthed the text message to himself.

She shouldn’t think I’m a total creep, right?

Recently, it’d become a trend whenever he tried to chat up a local lady. Whether he was picking up groceries, grabbing a cup of coffee, or visiting a local bookstore—because hey, girls like books—the response was always the same.

“And, sent!” Matt said, dropping his phone on the bed. Crossing his fingers, he leaned his head back and prayed. The text message was a simple invitation for coffee and a walk around the outdoor mall. Pure, simple, and honest. Nothing weird, nothing sexual. Natasha seemed to enjoy his presence well enough, and hey, you missed a hundred percent of the shots you didn’t take.

The phone vibrated, and Matt slowly looked down to see the four most dreaded, soul-crushing words ever conceived into a single sentence.

“I have a boyfriend,” came Natasha’s reply.

Matt’s heart sank as he retrieved the phone to type his reply.

No, man! Don’t reply right away! It makes you look desperate!

“She already turned me down,” he mumbled to combat his thoughts.

“hey no worries! i just thought we would hang out as friends :)” Matt replied. The three dots that indicated Natasha was typing popped up below his message. They disappeared, appeared for a few more seconds, then disappeared again.

And now you get ghosted. Good job, Kelmer.

Matt sighed and leaned back against the frame of his bed. It was a rickety old thing, beaten to hell and back from when he was a kid. His mom had been overly frugal most of his life, refusing to replace anything that could still be repaired or fixed up. “Waste not,” she would always say.

With his enthusiasm shot, Matt pitched his pay-as-you-go phone to the side and pulled the bed covers up to his neck.

“Is there something wrong with me?” he whispered, turning to the wall beside him. He never found himself to be particularly unattractive or irritating to be around. Yet somehow, he could never hold onto a girl for over a month. Three if he was lucky. “Maybe I should work out. Chicks dig dudes with big muscles, right?”

No, it was definitely a personality problem. Something about the way he approached people, spoke, divulged interests… it had to be something in that category. Sure, he was no model, but he still had a decent body shape. One of the few things he felt grateful to his dad for.

Regardless of where the issue was, he’d have to do something different. This had been the fourth girl to shoot him down in as many days. Whatever he was doing wasn’t working.

“Only a fool keeps doing the same thing expecting different results,” he mumbled. “That’s how it went, right?”

Matt drummed his fingers against his elbows in thought, the tantalizing call of video games beckoning him to leave his covers and lose himself in an imaginary world.

He would’ve listened if he wasn’t so damn depressed.

“Matthew Taylor Kelmer!” came the ratty voice of Matt’s mom.

Matt shot up, tossing the covers off and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Before him was a thin woman with curls of brown hair flecked with gray. She looked upon him with a disapproving glare.

“What did I say about dying your hair, mister?” she asked, tapping her foot on the carpet like she was scolding a child, and not a nineteen-year-old man. “And red? Are you turning into one of those cartoon porn addicts?”

“N-no, Mom. Calm down, okay? I just wanted—”

“Wanted what? What did you want?”

She was inconsolable when she got like this. The rule of the household was that Mom was the queen, and you were her servant. Breaking the rules or simply disagreeing with her was tantamount to breaking the law. She’d scream, and you would listen whether you liked it or not. It was a frequent point of contention whenever Matt’s dad wasn’t around.

Unfortunately, it also meant getting a word in without talking over her was nearly impossible.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you,” she continued, shrugging and scoffing. “I put hot meals on the table, I give you wonderful birthday gifts, I think the world of you. You are my pride and joy.” She gestured to the red streak in Matt’s hair, tears welling up in her eyes. “And this is how you repay me. You go and dye your hair like one of your cartoon porn characters.”

Matt took a deep, quiet breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d have to be careful showing weakness. She would throw a bigger tantrum when he showed a hint of upset.

So instead, he smiled.

“You’re right, Mom. I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you about it first,” said Matt. “I was just frustrated, you know? Girls keep turning me down left and right.”

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, that Natasha girl.”

Matt frowned. “You know about her?”

“Yeah, I saw what she said to you. Forget about her. Girls these days are twisted. They can’t tell one good man from another. They’re more interested in being hookers.” She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the forehead. “But not my special boy. You’ll find a good match one day. You’ll see. The right girl is out there for you somewhere.”

A well of emotions flowed through Matt’s veins. It’d do no good to argue about her going through his phone. They’d had that conversation once before, which turned into a screaming match between her and Dad.

Just change the password and let it go.

“Get dressed. I have breakfast downstairs.” She turned on her heel and left, stuffing an old shirt of Matt’s under the door. A trick she often used to suggest he stay awake. “No son of mine is getting up past six a.m.”

“Yeah.”

He’d have plenty of time to lose himself in video games later. For now, he’d need to get downstairs asap. When Mom had a meal on the table, you arrived right when she said it was ready. Matt divested his pajamas and reached for a black t-shirt and jeans, slipping them on quickly. On the way out, he plucked his green jacket from the hook on his wall, his mother’s voice calling him down.

“I’m coming!” he yelled back. Matt barreled down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen on his socks. He struck a pose and said, “The man of the house is here.”

“Good to see you, son.”

Matt snapped to an upright position, his hands at his sides. A man in army camouflage sat at the dinner table, a newspaper in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. The sunlight hit him from behind, casting his shadow on Matt.

“D-Dad? You’re back already? What about—” Matt stammered.

“I’m on call for now,” he said without looking up. Whatever he was reading was more important than looking at the son he hadn’t seen for six months. “So you’ll be seeing me for a while.”

“I-I see.” Matt sheepishly approached the table, readjusting the jacket around his shoulders before taking a seat.

“I made your favorite,” his mother said with a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other. She scooped a handful of bacon and hashbrowns onto the plate before him. “Made them extra crispy, just how you like it.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Matt said with a forced smile.

Dad set his coffee down on the table and ran a hand over his shiny, bald head. “So, how have things been?” he asked.

“Uh. Good, I guess.” Matt grabbed the ketchup and squeezed some onto his hashbrowns in a figure-eight. Capping it, he pushed it forward in case his dad wanted any. He was as much a ketchup addict as he was.

His dad hummed a non-committal response.

Would it kill you to look at me?

“Just living day by day, you know?” Matt helped a heaping of hashbrowns into his mouth.

“I see,” said his dad. How he spoke always felt manipulative. Rather than speak over or attempt a cordial conversation, he tended to wait until the person couldn’t respond before speaking. He came off as a reserved person to most people. Well, most people didn’t know how Matt’s dad really was. “Got a girl?”

Matt swallowed. “Er, working on one.”

“You should’ve seen what this girl typed to him last night,” his mother started.

“Mom, don’t, really. It’s okay,” said Matt.

“No, it’s not okay, honey.” His mom set the spatula by the stove and put a hand on her hip, leaning on one leg while she spoke. “This Natasha girl was nasty. These hussies are just looking for the next GQ man. They couldn’t give two shits about personality so long as his dick is big.” She scoffed, and Matt rubbed his forehead. “Taylor, are you listening to me?”

“I am, honey.”

“Mom, stop,” said Matt, his hand extended. “Just forget it. It’s not worth it. Like you said, I’ll find the right girl someday.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, it just makes me so damn mad that these girls can’t see a good catch.”

“What’s that smell?” Dad asked, sniffing the air.

“Oh, shit! Shit!” Mom grabbed a pot holder hanging from the wall and whipped it through the air. Black smoke billowed from the stove, the fire alarm ringing seconds later.

Taylor pushed his chair back and rushed to her side, extracting the spatula she’d left on the stove burner. “Watch it! You need to pay attention when you’re cooking! What do you wanna do, set the house on fire?”

“Don’t get smart with me! Why don’t you try cooking all fucking day, big man?”

“Just. Pay. Attention to what you’re doing!” he bellowed. “That’s all I’m asking. Can you just do that much? Look! Why is the burner still on?” He turned it off.

“Thanks for the meal,” Matt mumbled as he rose to his feet.

It was time to get the hell out of here.