@loganhayes85_ reacted with fire to your story
These and a dozen or more likes followed, going all the way back to photos from two years ago. I roll my eyes hard and click to send him a message.
Me: Stalking me, Hayes?
Logan: Good evening to you too, teacher
That makes me want to roll my eyes one more time, but I settle for letting a little puff of air out through my nose.
Me: I'm not your teacher
Logan: Which is a shame, because you're a much better sight than Mrs. Whitman ??
I huff for real this time as I read it.
Me: Oh my God, is this how you win girls over? A few likes and a cheap compliment?
Logan: Sometimes a single like on a story is all it takes, actually
I gasp at this guy's nerve.
Me: Wow, straight women really are starving out there, huh?
Logan: lol I apologize for my class. But you're with Ethan, you must be having better luck
I smile at the sentence and settle better against the pillows.
Me: Indeed
The player then sends me a gif of a football player getting hit in the face by a ball and falling backward. I can't resist and let out a short laugh.
Logan: I'll go work on my virtual seduction skills and come back, then, Landlady McCarthy
Me: If you want to kid yourself that this is a possibility, be my guest
I needle him without mercy, but I laugh for real when he sends the sticker of himself passed out.
Even though he entertains me, it's safer to keep Logan Hayes and his little flirting games far away, for the good of my sanity. I shake my head before the memories of that night at the fraternity can invade my mind.
I also leave the social network and check that it's a little past nine, which means I still have time to call and talk to my mom, so that's what I do. Miss Anne answers the video call on the third ring.
"So you remembered you have a mother?" she says without even greeting me, dramatic as always. I control the urge to roll my eyes and just laugh.
"Don't be needy, mami. And hello to you too," I give back, watching her sigh on the other end, but then her expression softens. She's wearing the leopard-print pajamas I've known for years and that are her favorite. Her face, with dark circles and a tired look, gives away that she must have worked too much again today.
"Hello, my love, how are you?"
"I'm good. Just a little tired from today's studying," I say, and she nods.
"Really demanding? You're not skipping resting a little too, right? You know it's not good for your health," she warns, and I even turn my head to the side to give her my judgmental look.
"You're telling me that? How many shifts did you take this week?" I ask, and she gives me her fake indignant face.
"Only one!"
"Anne Violet McCarthy..."
"Okay, three! But it was necessary!" she confesses, and it's my turn to huff. "A surgeon had a baby, so she's going to be out for a while."
