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- Aiden -
When I hadn’t heard from her by noon, I started to go a little crazy. In any other situation, I would’ve texted her first thing after a night out. Typically it would be something clever about some hilarious thing someone did or something decent just to gauge the severity of her hangover.
But today I just stared at my phone, not knowing what to say.
I must have typed a dozen different messages and deleted them.
“Had a great time last night. And I know you did.”
Too cocky.
“Had a great time last night. U?”
Too sad.
“Went on the best date last night. Call me and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Too cheesy.
“Brunch?”
Too eager.
“You forgot your panties. Or were those a gift?”
Too sleazy.
“Call me.”
Too desperate.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”
Too parental.
Finally I went with, “Did you get home okay?”
I figured that let me keep my cards close to my chest for the minute. Not that I cared if she knew I had a great time. After all, she must’ve known I did. My good time was probably still dripping down her leg.
Still, I didn’t want to come on way stronger than she was feeling. Maybe she wasn’t as excited about hooking up as I was. Or maybe she was freaked out because now that I’d had her, she was so in love with me she couldn’t verbalize her thoughts yet.
It was a possibility anyway.
I thought about going for a run so I wouldn’t just lounge around and stare at my phone, but it was raining outside, and the lazy summer shower rubbed off on me.
I poured some milk over a bowl of frosted mini wheats and crashed on the couch. I was about to turn on the TV when my eyes drifted towards the balcony. I could picture Lucy there last night with her bare legs sticking out of her short dress, the warm evening breeze blowing through her hair. The image was so clear I felt a pain in my chest.
Why hadn’t she stuck around this morning? We could’ve gone for breakfast at the run down breakfast dive we used to frequent in high school and shared some bacon sandwiches and cheesy hashbrowns. It would’ve been the perfect end to the perfect date.
Instead, I was eating mini wheats all alone and staring at my phone. And then it rang.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to let milk spill out of my mouth.
“Hey, big guy,” my sister said. She’d been calling me big guy ever since I was a little guy.
I finished chewing and swallowed my bite.
