Waking up to the sun shining through the window, I grab my phone to see it’s 10:00 AM. There’s also an unread message sent only a few minutes ago.
Maisie
Hi, Henry, my friend hijacked my phone last night. Although she was not lying about the bucket list, I do not need someone to help me. Sorry for the confusion!
Confusion aside, what does it take to be invited to this “Maisie’s Fuck It List” summer adventure?
Asking for a friend who was really excited to check items off.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch the text bubble pop up and go away a few times. Though it wasn’t actually Maisie asking me for help, that makes me more determined for her to let me in.She’s most likely trying to let me down softly, which would kill me. But I must admit it’s fun to watch her clearly flustered via text bubble.
While she is typing and I wait for the blow, I go to her contact and add a sun next to her name. She’s the epitome of sunshine, bringing a beacon of light into every space she enters.
Maisie
Are you serious?
As serious as one can be about spending their summer with a cute blonde.
(Extremely serious).
It takes a while for her to reply but once she does, I feel butterflies in my stomach, a feeling that doesn’t happen too often.
Maisie
If you’re serious, I’ll be at the park by the lake around noon.
Or if you’re busy, another time can work also.
I’ll see you at noon, Maisie :)
I nearly shoot up from my lying position in bed.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
Two hours from now I’ll be with the prettiest human in Ruby Lake, hell, in the world. It may just be helping her cross items off a list, but I’m happy to be the one she—well, Wren—texted.
That has to mean something, right?
If someone were to ask me why I feel a magnetic pull to her when she’s around, I wouldn’t have an answer. I wonder the same question myself.
I’ve never believed in love at first sight—not saying I’m in love—but this must be equivalent to that feeling. Right?
Realizing I have no time to waste, I jump out of bed and take a quick shower, the whole time trying to figure out what to wear.
A T-shirt and shorts seem too casual.
Is a sweatshirt and jeans too sloppy?
Washington weather is so unpredictable I can’t even rely on the weather to help me decide what to wear.
Also why do I care so much aboutclothing?
This isn’t a first date scenario, and I usually don’t stress too much on what I wear, but I would love the opportunity to eventuallygoon a date with Maisie. I need to give her a good first—well, third—impression.
I wash my hair three times unknowingly, lost in my thoughts. I don't want to fuck this up. I cannot risk messing this up before anything even starts.
