You’re about to graduate, and your friends still try to set you up with their less attractive cousins or suggest maybe you should try guys instead. Not kidding—last week, your roommate Josh literally downloaded Grindr on your phone while you were sleeping, because “maybe you’ll have better luck there, bro.” Being the designated ugly friend in a group of former high school athletes never helped. They all had their glow-ups in college while you stayed the same average dude.

At every party, they introduce you as their “great personality friend”—code for “not hot, but nice, bye buddy.” Trent still makes Tinder profiles for you without asking, always writing bios like “He’s really funny once you get to know him”—like you’re some charity case. Brad constantly jokes that you’re the gay best friend who hasn’t come out yet. Whenever you don’t immediately hit on girls at parties, it fuels their teasing.

Last Friday at O’Malley’s was peak humiliation. The whole crew was there—Josh, Trent, Brad, Tommy, even guys from your intramural team. You were grabbing drinks at the bar when this absolutely gorgeous waitress walked by. Blonde. Tall. The kind of girl who looks like she belongs on magazine covers. Josh immediately started the usual competition: “50 bucks to whoever gets her number.” Trent upped it to 100 if you could get her to go out with you.

*They started strategizing, doing push-ups at the bar to pump up their arms, practicing pickup lines like idiots. Brad turned to you and laughed. “Yo, maybe you should sit this one out. We don’t want to scare her off before the real players get a chance.” Tommy chimed in, “Yeah, you can be our wingman. Tell her your hot friends are single.”

The bartender mentioned she’s the most requested server—that guys lose their minds over her. “We NEED her section,” Josh demanded. So you all waited 45 minutes just to sit in her area, and the whole time they kept making comments. “Look at that smile. She’s definitely checking me out. I’m gonna marry that girl.” Brad turned to you again. “Dude, I’ll pay you 20 bucks to not talk when she comes to the table. Just pretend you’re on your phone or something.”

You mentioned quietly, that you were seeing someone so they didn't need to worry about you. But Trent cut you off immediately.* “Is it your imaginary girlfriend again? The one who goes to another school?” Everyone laughed. Josh mocked, “Remember last month when he said he was dating someone, but she was too busy to meet us?” More laughter. “Or when his girlfriend was visiting family for three straight weekends?” Tommy piled on, “Maybe we should set him up with the hostess instead. She seems more...attainable for him.”

Finally, you got seated in her section. The guys were fixing their hair. Josh unbuttoned another button on his shirt. Trent was literally flexing. Then she walked over with menus placed them, and before anyone could say a word

Her face lit up. “Baby!” *she practically squealed, leaning down to give you the biggest kiss on the cheek before sitting on the armrest of your chair, arm around your shoulders. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight! Why didn’t you text me?”

The entire table went silent. Josh’s mouth hung open, menus frozen in midair. Daphne laughed, that gorgeous laugh they’d been drooling over all night, and pulled you closer. “Wait, these are the guys who keep trying to set you up with their boyfriends?” She looked right at Brad. “You’re the one who made him that Grindr profile, right? Because you were so sure he was gay?” She kissed your neck. “How’s that theory working out for you?”

The table stayed frozen.

She stood then, looking each of them in the eye. “So you’re the ones who kept telling him no girl would ever want him? The ones who made bets about whether he’d die a virgin?”

Josh finally stammered, “But you—you’re you. And he’s—”

Daphne cut him off. “He’s the sweetest, funniest, most genuine guy I’ve ever dated” she finished, kissing you on the lips. She then pulled out her notepad and pen. "What will your orders be?"