I haven’t heard from him in four days. Is it a coincidence that he texts me today? My gut is telling me no.
The question replays in my head over and over as I contemplate how to respond. Should I invite him, like Jessie said? No, he’s already graduated, and I’m sure he has no interest in being around a bunch of college freshmen. I’ll just say I’m going to my friend’s party. He wouldn’t want to go anyway. I type, then delete and repeat for asolid five minutes. I guarantee he’s watching those three little dots pop up and disappear. My thumb hovers over send. Biting my lip, I click it then drop my head back against the headrest, internally screaming.
Going to my friend’s house party, you?
R:
You should stop by after.
Okay.
Okay?I’m going to ruin it before it even starts. I try to refocus on my audiobook and calm my racing heart. I’m getting way too worked up over a guy I’ve met only once. What if he turns out to be a total dick? With his looks, I’m betting he is and has probably made his way around by now. I haven’t saved my virginity to just throw it out the window for anybody.
My phone vibrates again. This is the most we’ve texted in a day. It makes me wonder if he’s bored or genuinely interested. I don’t have much trust in men.
R:
Just let me know when, sweetheart. I’m free tomorrow.
The nickname has a chill running down my spine, like wicked little spiders. I hate that name, butheisn’t the same guy from that night at the bar. He doesn’t use it with malice. He wants to hangout tomorrow? That’s… So soon. But my stupid heart responds before I have time to interject.
Tomorrow sounds good!
I can feel the blush creeping up my neck, and I can’t stop smiling like a fool. The last time I dated anyone was about two months ago, and really, that doesn’t qualify as even dating. We texted for about three weeks, but after he took me on our first “date,” which was a frat party, he completely ghosted me. At least I wasn’t emotionally invested in him. He ended up dropping out of school four weeks later, due to the football coach catching him snorting coke off a cheerleader’s stomach in the locker room. Fucking idiot. I never officially broke up with him, but I blocked him on everything, and he must’ve gotten thehint. He would have ruined my future career as a paralegal, and I would have never allowed him to live that down.
The bumps in the road alert me to our arrival home. I look around at the familiar neighborhood. Reminiscing on all my childhood memories. Most of the kids I grew up with no longer live here. Not that I hung out with any of them.
I never liked how close the houses are to each other. I was always terrified that a neighbor’s house would catch on fire, and it would spread to ours when sleeping. Even now, the thought makes me grimace. When I buy a house, it won’t have neighbors. I want acres and acres of peace and privacy. I always wanted to live in the mountains somewhere, on my very own private mountain. I know it’s unlikely, but a girl can dream, right?
Dad parks in the driveway in front of the garage, “Welcome home, Hun!” My dad gestures to the average two-story off-white neighborhood house. They’re all identical. The only difference between them all is the house number. Stepping out of the car, I breathe in the hot, humid air.
“You go on inside, I’ll bring your bags up to your door,” Dad offers.
I smile, “Thanks, Dad. If you don’t mind, leave them at the door. I’m going to try to nap.”
“Sure thing.” He smiles back. They like to pretend that time in my life didn’t happen. Never existed. They think I’ve “outgrown” my depression and anxiety “phase” and I don’t bother arguing it anymore. It was never a phase, andit won’t go away. I’ve just gotten better at masking it and self-coping.
Knowing I won’t make it through a party tonight without a much-needed nap, I head upstairs to my room. The door creaks when I open it, just like I remember. My room is exactly the way I left it nine months ago. Flopping onto the bed, I don’t bother crawling under the covers because as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out like a light.
It’s when my eyes start to flutter open that I notice there is no hint of sunlight peeking through my curtains. Maybe closing them before taking a nap was a bad idea. Reaching for my phone to check the time, I come up empty-handed. What the hell? I could’ve sworn I laid it next to me on the bed.
Scattering everything around like a Tasmanian devil on crack, I still can’t find it. As if the universe is helping me out, it starts to ring, and I follow the sound across the room. “There you are,” I say to myself, grabbing it from the windowsill. Forgetting I placed it there when I shut the curtains. The screen lights up with Jessie’s name.
“Hey! Sorry, I slept longer than I meant to.”
Jessie’s probably in my driveway already, so I shuffle through my closet looking for an outfit for tonight, while holding the phone between my shoulder and ear. I shimmy into some jean shorts and slip a plain white crop top over my head, getting a whiff of my armpits in the process. I really hope she isn’t here yet, because a bitch needs a shower.
“You’re good, I’ll be leaving my house in five, so that puts me arriving at yours right at nine.”
Thank fuck!
“Okay, see you soon!”
“Love you!”
“Love you too.”
When the call ends, I check the time, noting I have thirty-two minutes before she’s supposed to pick me up. Plenty of time for a quick shower. Placing my phone on the charger on the nightstand, I hurry into the bathroom to get ready.
