And much too close.
Later that evening, when I’m on my couch in pajamas, laptop balanced on my knees, pretending to work on a personal project. I realize I'm just staring at Daniel’s text.
I haven’t responded. I don't know how to respond.
‘Okay’ seems too casual. ‘Yes, Mr. Williams’ seems too formal. ‘Stop texting me because it makes my heart race’ is inappropriate.
I type out a response. Delete it. Type another. Delete that too.
Finally, I settle on: ‘See you then’ and hit send before I can overthink it further.
Three dots appear immediately. He’s typing.
My pulse kicks up. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous.
The dots disappear. No response comes.
I wait five minutes. Ten. Nothing.
I set my phone face down on the couch cushion and force myself to focus on my laptop.
But concentration is impossible.
All I can think about is Monday morning. Walking into his office and being alone with him again.
My phone buzzes.
I grab it too fast.
Trevor: Thanks for coming yesterday. Mom loved seeing you. Daniel liked you.
My stomach flips.
Daniel talked about me. To Trevor.
I force my fingers to type normally.Glad I could make it. Your friend seems nice.
Trevor: He’s an asshole, but he's the best one.
Me: Lol.
Trevor: I’d do anything for the bastard. He knows that.
Me: He’s lucky to have you.
Trevor: We’re lucky to have each other. Anyway, get some sleep. You looked tired yesterday.
Me: Ew, alright “Dad”. G’night.
I set my phone down again, leaning back against the couch. I can never tell my brother what happened. Not only would he be mad, but it would destroy their friendship. I can’t be the reason that happens.
Turning off the lights, I close my laptop and go to bed even though sleep feels like an impossible feat right now. But eventually, exhaustion wins.
I dream of dark eyes, rough hands, and a deep voice whispering my name in the darkness.
When I wake up on Monday morning, my first thought is him.
My second thought: I’m not ready to face him again.
