“Nothing has happened with Holt since the first night I got here,” I say. “We almost kissed last night, but Nana called.”
Sienna’s giddiness rolls through the phone.
“I slept in the guest room,” I say, trying to control the bubble ofexcitement in my belly just from talking about him. “It just felt more … practical.”
“Practical? I would go with saintly, but you’re the intellect. Not me.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t want him to think I’m just a piece of ass. Not that he’s ever treated me like that,” I add. “Not even close. But I just want to maintain a little class.”
“Of course. I get it.”
I pick a piece of invisible lint off my shirt. “He’s supposed to be meeting me shortly for a little touristy adventure. I mean, it’s to a church, but that’s more adventurous than I usually get.”
“I love this,” she says, ecstatic. “Isolove this. Have fun. Be excited. This is an exciting thing.”
The ball of excitement in my gut that I’ve been trying to control begins to unwind. I can feel it slip through my veins and make my heart beat faster, my palms start to sweat. It is exciting whether I like it or not.
I scrunch up my face and laugh. “I hate that I’m excited about this but …”
“But it’s Holt. I get it. And it’s new for you. It’s vacation. You’re doing what my sister Camilla and I did—well, sort of—in high school and college. It’s normal.”
“I’m just late to the party.”
“You’re just late to the party,” she repeats. “So go have fun. Take all of that man you can while you can.”
I stick my tongue in my cheek. “Pun intended?”
“In every way.” She laughs. “Call me later. Remember, we’re friends now. Okay?”
“Okay, Sienna.”
“Bye, Blaire.”
“Goodbye.”
I end the call and check the time. My spirits are still soaring as I scan the street between the park and the chapel. There is a woman pushing a stroller and a man on the phone but no Holt.
The breeze kicks up again. The moss dangles from the trees andsways in the air. I close my eyes and sway along with it.
I should do this more often. I need to make it a habit to get outside and have non-working human interaction. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
If I limit it to ten-minute conversations.
I laugh out loud.
Scanning the area, I notice a small ice-cream parlor tucked between two buildings on the other side of the street. I try to figure out if the building closer to me is a bookstore or a museum when my phone goes off again.
I look down.
And frown.
My heartbeat picks up in my chest as I read Holt’s text.
Holt: Got stuck in meetings.
Disappointment hits me full-on. My shoulders slump as I bite my bottom lip and fire a text back.
Me: No worries. I get it.
