6th grade and called him JT. like “yo, what up, it’s JT on the radio.” yeah. it was bad. not my best year.
Me: I’ll admit it: I’m still going through a Justin Timberlake phase. And 3?
SN: I don’t know. may keep this one to myself.
Me: Come on. You keep everything to yourself.
SN: tell me three things and then maybe…
Me: (1) I have this whole weird theory of the universe that I don’t actually believe but like to think about. Like we are something tiny and insignificant, like ants, to some larger, more complex species, which sort of explains all the weird random things that can happen, like hurricanes and cancer. OMG, I can’t believe I just told you that. I’ve never said that out loud before. Not even to Scarlett. #embarrassed.
SN: that’s a little weird, and yet possibly brilliant. #impressed
Me: I know, right?
SN: Google the Fermi paradox. will blow your mind. And 2…
Me: (2) I have trouble remembering my times tables. I mean, I can do calculus and stuff, no problem, but basic math, not so much.
Me: Just Googled Fermi. How do you know that kind of thing off the top of your head?
SN: I dunno. just do. 3…
Me: You only gave me 2.
SN: (3) I like you.
Me: (3) I like you too.
Crap. I did it again. Hit send without thinking. Who do I like? Who is this person? It’s not a lie. I like his words. I spend my day looking forward to writing to him, hearing his thoughts on stuff. But to just come out and say “I like you” without knowing who he is, with this ridiculous imbalance—he knows who I am, probably where I live—is just plain stupid. I’m asking for some sort of cosmic smackdown. Can I take it back? How do I do that? Do I just let it lie, enjoy for a moment that a guy—and yes, I realize I say that hopefully, that he is an actual guy from Wood Valley and not some sort of joke, or something totally weird I hadn’t thought of, like a cop who tries to catch child predators online or something—actually likes me? Me. I’m not sure that, other than maybe in sixth grade, when Leo Springer passed me a note that said Let’s go out!!! and was then my boyfriend for approximately twenty-two hours because I forgave the excessive punctuation but not his excessive hand sweating, which I later felt bad about when it turned out he had a serious glandular issue, any guy has ever said anything like those words to me: “I like you.” Screw it. I’m going to take a moment to revel.
No. This is too weird. I’m not reveling.
I’m freaking out.
Me: This is too weird. I don’t even KNOW WHO YOU ARE. Let’s dial it back.
SN: dial it back from “I like you”? okay, not sure what that means.
SN: I like you in my world means I think you’re cool, whatever. relax, lady, i’m not proposing.
Me: Shut up. It’s just. Forget it.
SN: it’s just, what?
Me: Never mind. Seriously, forget it.
SN: come on. tell me.
Me: It’s just weird that you know who I am and I don’t know who you are. It’s not fair.
SN: life isn’t fair.
Me: Fine. Whatever. Gotta go.
I put my phone down for a second. I’m angry. Deflated. So he doesn’t like me, he just thinks I’m cool. It wasn’t like I was saying he thinks I’m the best thing in the world. It’s just…It felt good to be liked, whatever that means.
SN: wait, stop. come back. I’m sorry.
Me: And?
SN: it’s just that I like talking to you here. like this. I meant it. I do like you. irl, you make me nervous or something. it would just be different to actually talk-talk. and this works, right?
Me: Yeah. But…
SN: I’ll give you three more things: (1) I like music and books and video games more than people. people make me awkward. (2) I used to sleep with a blanket when I was little, which I called…wait for it…Blanket, and okay, fine, I still do. (3) a year ago, I was a totally different person.
Me: Why? Who were you?
SN: happy. or happier. simpler. a bit more normal, if that’s even a thing.
Me: And then…
A long beat. I wait.
SN: my sister died. suddenly. long story. and now. well, you know how it is.
Me: Yeah.
SN: your mom died, right? am I allowed to ask that?
Me: How did you
SN: Theo. I mean, he didn’t tell me, but someone told me that you’re his