My eyes fall shut.
“I’m sorry?” Drake asks,
confusion written across his voice.
“Nothing!” Celie chirps, waving him off.
“Ignore me. I’m just anxious.
“You know how I get?—
“All awkward-cute.”
Drake pauses, processing,
probably regretting the last few years with her.
“…Okay,” he finally mutters.
“So what’d you wanna talk about?”
To my left,
Two-winged Tony side-steps closer to me.
His head ticks to my phone.
Even he knows Andrew hasn’t texted.
Like he’d text me if he were Andrew.
He deserves a bite for the honesty in his eyes.
“Hooligan,” Celie whispers into the mic.
She’s turned away from Drake,
a fist pressed to her mouth, fake-coughing.
“He’s givin’ me that look,” she breathes.
“The daydream one.”
She coughs again, loud and fake.
“Yo, he smilin’. He doin’ it. It’s happenin’.
“I think he wants to kiss me.”
“He wants to kiss everyone, Celie. He’s a Pisces,” I hiss. “Stick to the script.”
I scroll Google again,
desperate for something usable,
but find myself checking my messages again.
In case the notification didn’t pop up.
