Good Guy
SHOULD BE and WILL BE. What time is the interview?
7:00 AM via Zoom
Good Guy
Are you a morning person?
Fortunately, yes. Always have been.
Good Guy
Good. Because otherwise that time slot sounded like a dick move. Good luck and let me know how it goes. I’ll be thinking about you.
Will do.
I glance at the clock on my phone and quickly add an apology.
I’m so sorry! I kept you longer than 15 minutes.
Good Guy
No worries, friends in need are worth being late to work for.
I hesitate before I type a reply because Lola, Benji, and Mabel are the only people who’ve ever said something like that to me. And instead of messing up a perfect moment with a reply that I’ll overthink to death at midnight when I should be sleeping, I keep it simple but sincere.
Thank you.
And then I scroll back up, save the photo of his legs to my camera roll, and make it my new lock screen wallpaper. Because friends can appreciate that their friends have very attractive legs, right?
nine
I’m standingin front of work, ten minutes late to get back to the grind, but wearing the biggest smile. Talking to her makes the rest of the noise fade into the background. There’s something about this woman that I can’t get enough of: her humor, her feistiness, and her vulnerability. And now that I’ve seen her legs, I’m adding them to the list too.
She’s more than a breath of fresh air; she’s the entire goddamn atmosphere. There’s a realness that’s quickly becoming an addiction. I didn’t think people like her still existed. This friendship is decidedly more beneficial for me; she’s giving me authenticity I thought had vanished from the world. I know what I have to offer; it’s been drilled in me over and over again, but that’s not what she needs. Life’s throwing her lemons. Good thing I make damn good lemonade.
I scroll back through our messages and stop when I reach the photo she sent. It’s black and white, and the lighting is perfect. Sunshine slices down the center, highlighting her legs. Pale skin on a tangle of white sheets surrounded by the moodiness of a dim room and dark furnishings.
It was too spontaneous to be staged, but damn, it’s sexy.
I almost save it to my photos, but that feels like a violation. I tell myself I won’t come back to our messages to look at it later.
But I already know that’s a lie.
I probably won’t make it through the night.
Or the next hour.
Four steps inside the door, it’s my new lock screen wallpaper.
ten
I wishI was the type of person who could sleep for ten hours straight because I’d go to bed now to avoid the wait. Instead, I’m standing, hands on my hips, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, staring out the window into the backyard.
“What are doing, Soph?” Lola just walked in from work. She got called in for a few hours to close because someone went home sick.
“I’m watching Mabel do Tai Chi. I’m too lazy to go outside and do it with her but hoping for second-hand calm.”
