Me:Hello, I’m sorry to bother you. What time does Oswald’s practice end?
I hit send before I can chicken out. It was around six when I got to the dining hall on Monday, and they were there. If that’s his norm, it will give me just enough time for my forty minutes with Maxwell before they get here, then I can just order us takeout. Memphis can’t insist on paying for food if I already took care of it.
I start to relax a little.
Sir:You’re not bothering me. He usually texts me when he’s heading to the showers.
“Dang it.”
Sir:Why?
Sir:Do you need something?
Sir:Tell me.
He’s barely giving me time to think, let alone form a response.
Me:I apologize for the late notice, but something has come up. Can we make it any time after six?
His responding text bubble pops up and disappears several times before my phone rings.
“Hello.”
Memphis skips over my greeting. “Are you going to the study group?”
“No,” I answer quickly.
“Then what came up?”
“Is six too late?” I counter.
“No, why are you avoiding answering me? Is someone there with you? Where are you?” Memphis presses.
“Because, no, and at home,” I rattle off.
“Because?” He repeats my answer slowly in a deep voice, and it’s enough for me to give him more of an explanation.
“I have an appointment.”
Memphis lets out a long sigh, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
I didn’t want you to ask what kind of appointment.“I didn’t think it would matter,” I offer, but it lacks confidence.
“You’ll be home from your appointment at six?”
“Yes.” I don’t tell him I’m not leaving, it might invite more questions. He always seems concerned about who knows I live alone, and he may think someone is coming over.
“Do you need anything?”
“For tonight, no.”
“For tonight, tomorrow, anytime,” Memphis clarifies.
“Um, no thank you,” I tell him, but my voice goes up high on the end like it’s a question.
“I want you to tell me if you do, do you understand?”
“Okay.”
