I have thetiniestcrush on John.
(At least try to pretend you’re shocked, will you?)
But still, it’s not a big deal. What’s wrong with having a fun, silly crush? It’s harmless. It’s obvious he’s not into me that way, so there’s no pressure, and I can just sit back and enjoy my secret crush in peace.
He grins at the card for another second, then the microwave beeps and he turns away to get his pasta. I run my eyes surreptitiously over his frame. Now that I’ve admitted I’ve got a little crush on him, I’d say I’m allowed to admire how broad his shoulders are.
I clear my throat as he turns around and reach for my phone. “What word are you starting with today?”
John sits down across from me with his pasta. “Dunno.”
“I’m going to do BROKE. As in, even though I made my money back from the food yesterday, I’m still totally broke.”
John laughs, and for a moment we’re both quiet, tapping at our phones. I use BROKE as my first word, and all but the O are right. I type in the obvious answer—BRAKE—with a pang of disappointment. It’s kind of a letdown these days when I get it too quickly.
“Got it,” I say.
“Already? Nice.”
“Mm. Let me know if you need a hint.”
He doesn’t answer, so I get up and put on the kettle to make tea. I lean against the counter and drum my fingers absently on the linoleum.
“BRAKE,” John says. “Got it.” Then he laughs. “Hey, like your card.”
He’s right. I did use BRAKE on his card. I chuckle. “I guess I’m clairvoyant. But only for Wordle. It’s a very specific type of clairvoyance.” I frown. “Clairvoyance? Is that a word? Clairvoyancy? Clairvoyitude?”
John laughs again. “Clairvoyitude.”
The kettle is boiling; I flick it off and search the cupboards for a tea bag.
“What are your plans for the week?” he asks.
“Nothing much. Hanging out with Jim, letting Doris yell at me... oh, and I might do a Heath Ledger movie marathon.”
“Like with friends?”
“No, just by myself. I love solo movie marathons,” I add, a touch defensively.
“That’s cool.” John clears his throat. “Is that tonight? ’Cause there’s this firelight festival thing in Charlottetown, if you wanted to go.”
I go perfectly still.
Did he just—?
No.
Can’t be.
... but what else could he possibly mean?
I lick my lips and attempt an offhand voice. “You mean, like... together?”
John clears his throat again. “Yeah. If you wanted to.”
I turn around, my heart beating somewhere around my throat. “Like... a date?”
He snorts. “Yeah, like a date.”
