8:47 PM
E: Hi.
A single word, and every wall I’d built crumbled. I dragged a trembling hand through my hair. A dozen responses fought to surface, but none felt right. Every rehearsed line scattered like startled birds, leaving only truth.
Me: I’m happy to hear from you.
I hit send before I could think better of it. Blood roared in my ears, my palms slick. Each second without a reply stretched into eternity, the air itself suspended.
Amber light spilled through the windshield, gilding the interior in molten gold as I slid behind the driver’s seat.
E: I talked to Candace.
Candace. Shit. I braced for impact.
Me: What did she say?
The typing bubble appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.
My hope—my desperation—tethered to three flickering dots.
I started the engine, its low growl rumbling through me, but I couldn’t shift into drive. Couldn’t move.
Then my phone lit up again. My pulse slammed against my ribs.
E: She was pissed.
The phone nearly slipped from my hand. Heat rushed through me as I typed, barely breathing.
Me: I can imagine.
E: So am I.
Shit. I wiped my palms against my jeans.
E: But I’m not ready to walk away.
“Fuck yes!” The shout tore free before I could stop it.
A woman walking her dog glared through the windshield. I didn’t care. I started typing—ten, twenty possible replies—but nothing was enough.
E: And I want to watchTwilight.
I blinked.Twilight? A test, maybe?
Me: I loveTwilight.
The words weren’t all true—but not a lie either. I’d hated it when it first came out, back when obsessive fan girls filled the hallways arguing over Edward or Jacob. But somehow, I already knew it was about to become my favorite movie.
E: I’ve got it pulled up now. Netflix has it.
I exhaled hard.
Me: Do you want me to watch it with you?
My pulse hammered so loud it drowned the hum of the car.
E: Yes.
