Maggie: A noncommittal relationship. You know, two people who have fun for a brief period of time and then go on as if nothing happened. No attachments.
Me: I’d like to try attachments.
Maggie: Lucca! Stop it.
Me: What? You wanted honesty and forthrightness. I’m giving it.
Maggie: Nope. I never asked for honesty. I’d be thrilled if you’d stick to evasive and indirect.
Me: I can’t do that.
Maggie: Well, I can’t do this.
Me: Except that you want to.
Maggie: DON’T TELL ME HOW I FEEL.
Me: I’m not telling you.
Me: You also kissed me… which said a whole lot more than any of these texts. In fact, I vote we get together and talk about this in person.
Maggie: Not gonna happen.
Me: Because you’ll kiss me again?
Maggie: Because I’ll end up injuring you and you won’t be able to play in Saturday’s game.
Me: I don’t think so.
Me: I think you like me.
Maggie: I don’t.
Me: You kissed me.
Maggie: I was having an existential crisis.
Me: Let’s talk. Please?
Maggie: I have nothing to say.
Me: Well, I do.
Maggie: Push those thoughts right off a cliff and move on.
Me: I can’t do that.
I lookup from my phone after reading the entire series of text messages from Maggie to Roman and Stella. I sit on Roman’s couch and peer into the faces of my best friend and his wife. “That was three days ago. She hasn’t answered me back since.”
“Wait. You got a cat?” Roman’s eyes have narrowed.
I scoff and roll my neck back to look at Roman’s cabin ceiling. “Is that really all you’re taking from this?”
“I’m sorry—I’m just surprised. You never said anything.” He shrugs.
“She’s a little gray devil cat. The next time you come by, you can see all the things she’s destroyed.” I swallow. “She’s adorable.”
Roman smirks.
