Mom calls Dorian on speakerphone. When he tells us the coast is clear, Malachi offers to drive us home. I sit in the backseat and take out my phone to write Cillian an apology for running off, but get sidetracked by the messages he sent me.
Chapter 15
Electra
BOOGIE BOO:Text me when you get home. Just want to know that you’re safe.
BOOGIE BOO:PS:I’m sorry for acting like a duck.
My lips quirk.
BOOGIE BOO:Duck not duck.
BOOGIE BOO:DICK not duck.
I’m full-on grinning now.
BOOGIE BOO:Are you home?
A couple of days ago, I considered Cillian awkward and innocent, a tepid breeze. Turns out he’s anything but. He’s layered and unexpected, a whole weather system complete with warm surges, cold fronts, and flashes of dangerous lightning.
ME:Almost. You?
BOOGIE BOO:Almost?
BOOGIE BOO:How far do you live?
ME:I stopped by a friend’s house.
No dots dance on the screen. I’m guessing he’s sitting with my answer, wondering which friend, hoping I’ll type out Calanthe’s name.
ME:Mom wants to meet you.
ME:Are you free tomorrow?
BOOGIE BOO:What time?
I can’t decide if his lack of hesitation is sweet or alarming.
ME:Don’t you want to know why she wants to meet you?
BOOGIE BOO:I’m guessing it’s because she thinks we’re dating.
ME:We’re not dating.
Dots appear but never transform into words. I wish they would. I’m guessing—judging by Cillian’s adamance—that he was hammering out messages insisting I’m wrong.
BOOGIE BOO:My morning’s wide open.
ME:Mine’s not. What does your afternoon look like?
BOOGIE BOO:Is 9 pm too late?
Nine? I realize he relies on his job for money and that I can’t ask him to cancel classes for me, but does he really not have a break until nine o’clock?
ME:How about an early breakfast, actually?
BOOGIE BOO:Breakfast it is.
