Maggie:How’s the new location coming along?
Blair:Getting there…..
Me:Good luck tomorrow Maggie
Maggie:I don’t need it but thank you
She’s competing in the French Open finals. As always, she’s favored to win.
I set my phone down and burrow beneath the covers, enjoying the way the tension bleeds from my body for the first time since I’d gotten the call from Maggie about this potential partnership with Spencer. Maybe we’re both overambitious, thinking we could compete together in three months, but if I could do it with anyone, I’m convinced it’s the guy who pushed me to work harder without saying a word.
And I’m too stubborn to do anything other than throw my entire self at this goal.
I jolt awake at four a.m. in a dark room lit only by the low light of the TV. I fell asleep so early that I’ve already gotten eight hours of sleep. When I check my phone notifications, I’m greeted by texts from the person I least want to deal with.
Parking lot terrorist:Hi, it’s Wes.
Parking lot terrorist:Wes Davidson
Parking lot terrorist:Spencer’s brother
The texts are each a minute apart, like he kept adding details the longer I didn’t answer, but he also sent them fifteen minutes ago, when most people are asleep. Is he serious? He doesn’t think I’d know who he was? How many men named Wes from unknown numbers does he think reach out to me? And if by a strange coincidence, I had an abundance of guys named Wes wanting to know me, the last name would’ve sufficed for clearing up any confusion.
Besides,hegave me his number.
Me:Hi
Before I can place the phone down, the three dots start.
Parking lot terrorist:Spencer gave me your number.
Me:And you gave me yours
Parking lot terrorist:Right. Forgot.
Parking lot terrorist:I have a list of people who asked for figure skating lessons over the years. Do you want me to send that to you?
Me:Sure…..
Parking lot terrorist:I don’t have to send it if you don’t want it.
Me:Just trying to figure out your motives.
The dots start and stop multiple times. I thought he was debating how to reply, but then a big block of text arrives.
Parking lot terrorist:I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I didn’t mean to hit your car. I have a lot going on, and I was distracted. Spencer is one of the most important people in my life. All I want is for him to be happy. We need to co-exist peacefully for his sake. Limit the amount of time we’re around each other and set aside our differences while Spence is around. You can keep your animosity, just hide it.
Dammit if that doesn’t tug at my heartstrings. I feel that exact way about Brooks.
Parking lot terrorist:That is the longest message I’ve ever typed
Me:A man of few texts, got it
Parking lot terrorist:And words.
Me:I wouldn’t call it animosity.
Parking lot terrorist:Well, shit. I’d be afraid of how you treat someone you hate then.
