I got to Penultimate before Ron because he was running late from work. I made my way to our agreed meeting spot on the roof. “Okay, now for a hard question. What is the worst food you’ve ever eaten?” I texted Ruth.

“It would definitely have to be pineapple on pizza. The stuff is simply just awful. The sweetness of the pineapple does not go well with the savory tomato sauce,” she texted back. That’s strange. I definitely remember a picture of her excited about pineapple pizza in her profile. Going back to her profile, I swiped through her photos and found a recent picture of her with a pineapple and ham pizza slice. Her eyes were rolled back like the cheesy triangle was possessing her. Ruth’s smile spread from ear to ear. Only the Cheshire Cat’s smile could rival it.

Well, that’s not strange at all. Our taste buds change every seven years. But Ruth should take down that picture—it’s conflicting evidence. While I was there, I noticed her bio stated that she absolutely hates camping but loves going on trails for hikes, so that cancels the wilderness date I had in mind.

Now finally on the roof, I walked over to the nearest couch, flopped onto it, and went back to our messages. “That is a bit of an interesting combination. I hate pretty much all seafood, but catfish is definitely the worse.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I love catfish! Especially when it’s made by a guy that grills it for my entire neighborhood,” she texted back.

“Well, you would be thrilled because my father does the same thing where I live, so maybe sometime soon you can come over?” I replied. Oh boy, was I moving too fast? I probably should have waited to say that. I mean, we’ve only just started texting, and she barely knows me. Although, it’s a good thing I already picked out my first date outfit. Otherwise, I would be freaking out more.

“Well, looks like someone is obsessing over girls again,” Ron said, walking over to the couch. “It reminds me of when you were younger, and you had pigtails, braces, and just overflowing with teenage girl hormone madness.”

“Yeah, I remember your hormonal days too. You were kind of like a rabbit, humping anything that made eye contact. I had to hide Jackie from you because I was scared she would get a prom-night baby,” I said. Ron’s mouth twitched with a snicker as he sat down. His face was red as he looked around to see who may have heard my comment.

Hopping off the couch and walking over to the table, I sat across from him. Ron reached into his bag to pull out a notebook and a pen. “Alright, I’ve got some fantastic ideas,” he said, flipping through the pages, quickly scanning them before moving on to the next.

Taking a scrunchie off my wrist and tying my hair up into a ponytail, I said, “Alright, I have a great idea.” I opened my notebook. “Bella loves Halloween and loves to fish too. We could hang up some dead fish and dress like zombie fishermen.”

“You bring some compelling ideas, but that’s a no from me,” Ron said, chuckling. “First off, dead fish would stink up the entire roof. We could have fish skeletons made of paper instead.”

I crossed out my idea. “Okay, maybe dead fish was a bit extreme, but we’re still doing the Halloween theme. It’s still a good idea.” Flipping the page, I stumbled across my next great idea. “I fully support that. What about a Nightmare Before Christmas theme because Christmas is right around the corner, and that’s single-handedly the best Christmas movie?”

Ron shook his head. “No, Bella hates that movie. She says it’s not realistic enough for her. Besides, it’s clearly a Halloween movie.”

“Um, no, you’re wrong. It has Santa in it. That makes it a Christmas movie. Wait, hold on, not realistic? Bella knows it’s just a children’s movie, right?”

“She says that it’s blasphemy because there’s a ghost dog, and that’s not possible because all dogs go to heaven.”

Shaking my head and blinking twice, I said, “Does she know those are two different movies in two different universes?”

“Believe me, I’ve tried to explain it, but you’ll just have to ask her. But fair warning, it’s the weirdest fanfiction you’ll ever hear. I even told her to put it on a fiction-writing website. I checked yesterday. It has over a billion reads,” Ron said, getting up from his seat. “I have to use the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”

As he went, I flipped my phone over and saw a new text from Ruth. “I would love to see you! Although I have a camping trip next weekend, so we can do it after that!” Oh, look at that. Guess I’ll get to wear that outfit sooner than I thought. I have to calm down. We’re not even official, and I’m already jittery. After that camping trip, maybe things will start picking up. Wait, didn’t she say she hated camping? I mean, I get it you don’t really look at your own profile very much, but this is getting suspicious.

“Alright, what you got next?” Ron said, sitting back down.

I flipped my phone back over with the screen facing down. Looking through my notebook, I said, “Alright, let’s see if you’re picking up what I’m putting down. I thought you could skydive out of a plane, flying down in one of those squirrel suits, and land on the roof. Oh, but you do it special instead of landing in a boring way. You get creative, you get fancy, and do a barrel roll into proposal position, and then bam! Not only is she so ready for marriage, but you’re also getting action that night because of that badass stunt.”

A hysterical cackle erupted from Ron. I could see the tears rolling down his face. “Autumn, there are so many flaws with this idea. First, I soiled myself skydiving when you took me. Second, there’s no time to even train for all that.”

“Well, I guess if you want to be a baby about it. I mean, we all know Rome was built in a day. If they could do that, you can do this in a week,” I said, scribbling out my idea.

“You know that’s not the saying, right?” Ron said, writing something in his notebook.

“How would you know? It’s not like you were there,” I said.

“Fair point. Alright, you ready for the next idea?” Ron said. We continued to discuss the plans for the proposal. I felt like we made a little bit of progress, but ultimately, we both decided we needed to meet again.

Arriving home, I pulled into the driveway. Before getting out, I checked my phone. There were no new notifications, but I decided maybe I should look over Ruth’s profile once more. You know, just to see if there were any more inconsistencies. Swiping through the pictures, everything seemed to line up with what I knew about her so far. There was a picture of her skiing, another photo with her sorority sisters. There was a picture of her with completely jet-black hair. This must have been recent because she didn’t look much older than in her other pictures. I had to ask her how she could dye the underlayer of her hair so perfectly.