So three hundred percent?Astrid texted.
A few more one hundred percent emojis.
That’s a lot of percent, Astrid tapped out.
Damn right it is, Parker.
Can I see you tomorrow?
You better, Jordan texted.Did Claire have a lot of questions?
Astrid paused before typing,No, but you could’ve told me that my lipstick was pretty much all over my face.
Jordan sent a laugh-crying emoji.I didn’t notice, I swear. I was too busy trying not to drag you back to your place cavewoman style and have my wicked way with you.
Astrid’s belly fluttered.An event I’d be very much into at a later date, she texted.
Yeah?
One hundred percent.
You’re not super into emojis, are you?
Astrid laughed. It was true she didn’t use emojis very often, but for Jordan, she’d do just about anything. She scrolled through the sea of colorful images until one in particularly caught her eye. It a little flirty, maybe a little dirty too, which was not Astrid’s usual way, but it felt right, so she tapped on the peach emoji and hit send.
PARKER,Jordan texted back, making Astrid laugh right there in Iris’s kitchen, ice cream softening in her arms.
So what did you do about your lipstick problem?Jordan asked.
Made it worse, apparently. Now Iris says it looks like I made out with a lumberjack. Beard rash or something.
And what did you say?
Astrid paused. She wanted to play this carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was make Jordan feel like she was ashamed to tell her friends about them. She wasn’t. At all. But she also wanted to respect Jordan’s privacy.
Nothing yet, she finally tapped out.I wasn’t sure if you wanted people to know.
The three little dots bounced, then disappeared. Bounced, then disappeared again. Astrid pressed a hand to her stomach, jaw clenching as the dots resurfaced for the third time. Finally, Jordan’s message came through.
I’m in if you are.
Astrid exhaled, what she was starting to think of as her Jordan smile settling back on her mouth.I’m in, she texted back.I’m very in.
Okay then.
Okay then.
Give Iris my best. Let me know if I can do anything to help.
I will. Good night.
Night, Parker.
Astrid clicked her phone dark and slipped it back into her pocket before pressing her forehead against the cool surface of Iris’s retro turquoise refrigerator. After taking a few more deep breaths, she marched back to Iris’s room. Inside, Delilah was fiddling with Iris’s laptop, pulling up what looked like a horror movie on Netflix, while Claire shook up a bottle of bright blue nail polish, ready to give Iris an amateur manicure.
Astrid dumped her loot onto the bed, then put her hands on her hips.
“I didn’t make out with a lumberjack,” she announced.
