“Yeah,” I said. “Later.” I hung back for a minute after she left, and then I sprinted for the locker room, barely suppressing a full-blown grin.
* * *
—
That night after soccer practice I got a text from Jamie.
Soooo…did you talk to Ruby
I stared at the screen for two minutes before texting her back: Yep.
I watched the three little typing dots flicker and disappear and flicker again. I waited.
Two minutes later: And?
I could have kissed my phone. So rarely was I the one making someone else wait around for my response. Especially with Jamie. For more than two years every text I got from her had felt like a ticking time bomb I could only defuse by replying within seconds. I’d been desperate to give her the go-ahead to text me again. Desperate and Pathetic: The Quinn Ryan Story.
I took my time tapping out a response, imagining Jamie on the other end, forced to watch my infuriating bubble. I hit send, and heard the whoosh, and I thought, This is what drugs must feel like. I wrote: Well, I have her number now. A masterpiece. My finest work.
Then the dots appeared, and I held my breath, and then they disappeared, and I let out an aggravated sigh. There I was, waiting for Jamie’s words again. The bubble reappeared and I inhaled. It was a reflex I’d have to unlearn. At a later date.
Wow, she wrote. #1 straight girl. Congrats.
You didn’t have to know Jamie as well as I did to know that congrats followed by a period was essentially equivalent to how embarrassing for you. But I did know Jamie that well, and I could tell that congrats was a front, and that I’d gotten to her. And that made it pinch a little less.
I didn’t say I was trying to date her, I wrote, regretting it instantly. Defensive. Not good.
You can date whoever you want, Jamie wrote.
“Oh, reallyyyyy?” I said in a high-pitched whine. I was furiously typing a reply when she texted again.
Sorry. Patronizing. I meant, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.
A pause, and then: But she is straight.
Ugh. As if I needed reminding.
Yeah, as of two years ago, I wrote.
Lol, she replied.
Was that the last time she registered?
I accidentally laughed, even though I was furious.
That’s when we made the list.
I know. I was jk
Well— I started.
Look, she wrote.
We both waited. I watched her bubble flash and disappear four times at least.
It’s none of my business, she wrote finally. That’s it? I thought.
There were a dozen angry texts I wanted to sling at Jamie like arrows. I typed and deleted I get to decide if it’s your business or not, which I wasn’t even sure made sense. Telling Jamie I’d gotten Ruby’s number hadn’t felt as good as I’d expected, but I also hadn’t really thought it through. What else was there for her to say at this point? I had a hot (straight) girl’s phone number, but I hadn’t done anything with it. Jamie clearly didn’t believe in me. So maybe I’d have to make her.
But in the meantime, I wanted peace, and I needed a friend. Specifically, my gay friend, still the only one I knew. God bless Ronni and Alexis, truly the two best straight people I knew after my mom, but there were things they’d never understand the way Jamie did. She wasn’t my girlfriend anymore, but what if I still needed her to be everything else?
Evidently I’d waited too long to compose a reply because Jamie texted again.
Is this always going to be weird?
It was like she’d been reading my mind long-distance. Only it was different coming from the person who’d made it weird by doing the dumping.