packets on time. He does not let due dates slide.
Got it.
He’s a huuuge Georgia Bulldogs fan, if that helps.
Now to just find a way to work that into the conversation.
I’d be subtle. Wear a Bulldogs shirt or bracelet. Don’t mention it. Let him notice.
Great idea! Thx.
My body tingles with the thought that I am making Julian feel good. I swear, that’s how this starts. Good intentions. Mostly. It also doesn’t suck that I’ve got his undivided attention again. God, I missed him.
Who is this? Really?
I consider telling him my name is Jennifer. But that seems way too close for comfort.
I told you. Someone who wants to help you.
Like my guardian angel?
Sure.
Or my fairy godmother?
Even better. Anyway. GTG. TTYL.
No. Stay.
My heart beats like a happy little emoji doing a happy emoji dance. This. Is. Awesome. This is how we used to be.
I’m here.
Thanks for taking time to talk with me.
I want to reach out to him. I want to stretch my fingers through my phone, let them come out the other side, and touch his. I picture how it would feel to touch his hand.
It’s been fun.
Hey. You’re not some idiot on the team trying to get me all worked up?
No. Promise. This is not a joke.
I don’t want to be played.
I’m not playing you. I wouldn’t.
Just so you know, I’m not going to do anything stupid, so if this is a game, you’ll be pretty bored.
Even though I’m not playing him, I am sort of tricking him. But I push that feeling down. So I type.
It’s not a game. I like you. I want to help you.
Why?
I start to panic. This is getting too messy. I’ve got to stop this before it goes too far. I think about just closing out of my app, but I can’t. Not yet because I see those three dots on my phone that mean that Julian is texting me back. That he’s waiting for me.
You there?
I can’t walk away from him and leave him hanging. So I become Jennifer again. Jennifer can handle this, I’m sure.
I like you. You seem like a good guy.
As long as you don’t get your hopes up too high.
That makes me laugh. So like him. Never feeling like he was smart enough. His older brother is a graduate of Harvard Law. Also one hell of a hockey player. But Julian’s smart, too. I remember. When we used to go into the woods, just the two of us, he was always the leader. Every tree looked exactly the same to me, and I felt like we were going in circles. But Julian led us. Calmly. He pointed out each kind of tree. Told me each of the trees’ stories. He bent low and pulled the bushes back, revealing purple berries. “You can’t eat these.” He must have named ten different types of trees. Another seven kinds of bushes. I felt so safe with him. And I knew if anyone could see his knowledge of the forest that they would never question his intelligence.
Hello? Where’d you go?
Just figuring out how low I should aim…
Maybe aim middle-ish?
Gotcha.
What do I call you?
For some reason this question slays me. Because I’d love for Julian to call me anything he wants.
Instead I simply write:
GTG.
And with that, I close the scene effectively. I get my chapter out and leave the reader hanging. You know, if Julian is the reader. It’s my job to get him to keep wanting to read. So I go to bed imagining his face as he read my texts. His perfectly symmetrical lips would turn up slightly. He’d put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. That’s how I picture him now. Looking back at my texts, rereading them, reading into them, too.
Just then my phone jumps to life.
You said you like me. You. Like. Me.
Laughter pours out of me, and I have to lean back. I breathe in. Breathe out. I think of Julian’s face. His messy hair. His deep hazel eyes. The outer ring, light golden brown, with a ring of chocolate around the outside. I wish I was that other person I could have been. The girl who isn’t stuck in her stupid body. The sophisticated and self-assured me I should have been. Jennifer. I think of what that me would say. I let her take the wheel.
I always have, I type. Then I close my eyes and hope my world doesn’t explode along with my heart. My body is now thrumming with the drumbeat I’ve been