Ivy didn’t know either.
She knows now, of course, and I stare at the screen of my phone for a beat.
“Is that him?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I look at her, and she grimaces.
“Well, this is what you wanted, right? To talk to him?”
“Yeah.”
No.
Maybe.
I don’t know exactly what I wanted. To get in touch with him—to have a way to stay in touch with him—but beyond that I didn’t give it much thought. And now he’s asking if I’m still here.
“What am I going to tell Mom and Dad if I get home alone?” Ivy asks.
“Hang on.” I type out a response.
VICTORIA: Yes, but heading to the parking lot.
JORDAN: Do you want to meet up?
VICTORIA: I can’t. I’m with my sister. Breakfast tomorrow?
JORDAN: It would have to be really early, I have practice at 10.
VICTORIA: 7:30 at our usual place?
JORDAN: See you then.
I stuff my phone in my purse and we continue walking.
“I’m going to see him tomorrow,” I say.
“Why?” she asks.
I glance at her. “What do you mean?”
“What’s the point of this? You’re going to get back together?”
“Of course not!” I snap. “I just…” What? What am I expecting to happen?
“I know this isn’t a bootie call.”
“No. Although it’s been a while. I could use some of that.”
She grimaces. “Not me. If I never have sex again it’ll be too soon.”
“Willie was a selfish ass. Good sex is glorious.”
“Not in my experience.”
“Then it might be time to change your experiences,” I tease.
“Dating is hard in South Florida,” she grumbles. “You know that.”
