Does this have to do with Troy?
I sigh, drop back onto my pillows and type out the whole of what happened last night. In between my lengthy text, the girls perform their normal sleep-deprived ritual of sending GIFs and memes. Once I hit send, there’s a long pause while they absorb what I wrote before the dots start moving. Then, one by one, I get their assessment of the situation.
Christin:
He’s caught the feels.
Amy:
Totally.
Emery:
Agree, but he’s trying not to spook you into Switzerland since they don’t have an extradition treaty.
I laugh aloud, the sound easing some of my tension.
Maya:
So…you guys don’t think it’s too soon.
Emery:
Not. At. All.
Christin:
Wait, there was another guy before him?
Amy:
I thought you just returned the stray to the pound.
Christin:
Now that she’s found such a gorgeous Labrador, she has to keep him.
Emery:
If she doesn’t, I volunteer as tribute.
Amy:
Not if I get to him first.
I shake my head, grinning despite everything. “You’re all crazy,” I mutter aloud even as I type:
Maya:
I love all of you.
A flurry of “I love yous” come back in my direction before my best friends claim it’s too early for them to be awake. They promise to text later when they’re more awake. I scroll through our texts, relaxing as I realize there’s nothing to worry about.
Whatever is happening between me and Troy is just that—between us. With that thought, I drift back to sleep with a smile on my face. When I wake up a few hours later, there’s a message from Troy.
Troy:
The kitchen is equipped with a fermentation tank full of coffee.
