Matchmaker
Melanie was 14 years old. Her
best friend Sophie was 15. Summer
was almost over. School was about to
start. Melanie and Sophie were having
lunch at S&P. Sophie had decided
that Melanie needed a boyfriend.
"But why?" asked Melanie. "I'm
okay without one. What good is a 15-
year-old boy anyway? All they're
interested in is playing badminton or
riding their motorbikes. Where does a
girl fit into that picture?"
"Don't be silly," replied Sophie.
"And forget about 15-year-olds.
They're too young. You should go for
someone more experienced—someone
at least 18 years old. Someone who
will carry your bags and walk you to
your house. You need someone who'll
give you a Valentine's Day card and
remember your birthday. You need
someone to calm you when you're sad
and lonely. You need someone to
protect you."
"But my brother does that! That's
what bros are for. He comforts me; he
protects me. And he remembers my
birthday, too. I've got a backpack to
carry my books, and I know where all
my classes are. I don't need an escort.
And a Valentine's Day card means
that someone loves you. What if I
don't love them back? I don't want a
Valentine's Day card from someone I
don't love. I don't love anyone anyway.
I'm too young. I don't think I even
know what love is. Besides, you don't
have a boyfriend. Why should I?"
"Because you’re gonna be my first
client. I've decided that I'm gonna be a
matchmaker when I grow up."
"Well, if I'm your first client, that
means I'll probably be your first
mistake. No, thank you.