GRANT: Okay, no flowers. You’d be good at negotiating if you ever want to enter the corporate world.
I read his text, my head shaking, as I quickly walk the few blocks to the center. At least he got the message. I slip my phone in my back pocket, expecting that’s the end of it, but it vibrates a few steps later.
GRANT: We should get together and play Dragons Reborn. I think you’d like it.
I laugh at the text. Who does he think I am? I definitely let my nerd knowledge slip last night, but we went the entire meal without mentioning the popular video game.
CLARE: I already play. Level 30.
His text comes quickly like the last few.
GRANT: Homestead or castle?
CLARE: Castle, of course.
The walk goes faster than normal while texting with Grant. His next one lights up my phone as I’m unlocking the door to my office.
GRANT: That’s my girl. What system do you play on?
I smile at his comment of me being his “girl”, but then I frown. I should not care if I’m Grant’s girl or not.
I mean I definitely don’t care if I’m Grant’s girl.
CLARE: A laptop. Windows version.
I boot up my computer waiting for him.
GRANT: What’s the graphic card readout on that? How many frames per second?
I read the text three times and still have no idea what he’s talking about. Sometimes I forget the preppy kid is a big nerd too.
CLARE: I’m not sure, it’s Drew’s computer. A black one.
GRANT: What’s your user name and the server you play on?
I debate being difficult and not telling him, but as I open my work e-mail, I give in and text him back. He’s best friends with the game developer. It wouldn’t take long for him to find someone to figure it out. Plus, he and the other RDA girls play on a different server.
GRANT: I’m not on that server.
As expected he tells me information I already had.
CLARE: So?
There’s no way he’s talking me into abandoning a level thirty Castle. I worked way too hard.
GRANT: Well if we play on your server I won’t have any of my cool swords to wow you.
I laugh at his persistence and the sound travels far enough into the hallway. One of the early arrival kids pops his head in my door. He looks at me in an odd way like he’s never heard me laugh before, but soon he smiles too and his head disappears back to where he came.
CLARE: Tell you what. You can live in my castle until you get on your feet.
GRANT: You have space for a roommate?
CLARE: Level 30 remember?
The thought of spending my morning locked away in my office texting with Grant has its appeal, but if I don’t show my face with the kids soon, they’ll come looking for me. I turn off the screen to my desktop computer and get ready to start another morning of keeping San Francisco’s kids entertained.
CLARE: Got to go for real. Kids are here.
