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Rose was still trying to concentrate on his use of the word consequently. He’d been doing that all day. Throwing in these big words—words a would-be troublemaker wouldn’t normally use. She’d wondered if he was trying to prove something. Then his last statement sunk in, and she realized he was waiting for her response to him being there all summer.
“Really? All summer, huh?” was all her lameness could think of to say.
“Yeah, since Sal is with your sis maybe we’ll get a chance to hang out. I don’t know anyone else out here.”
Thoughts of hanging out with him all summer inundated her. But she wouldn’t start writing his name all over her notebook just yet. He could just be saying it to be nice. And he didn’t even have the job yet. Sal didn’t seem too keen on Vincent. They may turn him down flat. Besides, guys like Vincent were beyond inexperienced prissy girls like her. Hanging out to him could mean something she was in no way ready for, so she kept her response minimal.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
She almost said cool instead of nice, but even that sounded a little too eager. Something about the way he looked at her told her he already knew without even asking just how inexperienced she was. Her demeanor probably screamed that she was still in the never-even-been-kissed club while he was probably already a man in every way. Even if he already knew, she wanted to be clear in case he was wondering. No matter how exciting the thought of spending any time with a guy like Vincent was, doing so would be nice. Nothing more.
***
This party is not the same without you. I’m bored now. =(
Rose smiled after reading his text, feeling her insides instantly go wild. She’d been staring out the window of Sal’s backseat daydreaming of the guy she’d met today who she was sure she’d never hear from again. Just because they’d exchanged numbers when they said goodbye didn’t mean she expected to hear from him ever again. She’d been certain she would be forgotten as soon as they drove away, and here he was texting her, not even ten minutes after she left. Taking a deep breath, she took his words for what they were worth. He was bored.
Pushing the fact away that he could be texting anybody else, yet here he was texting her, she refused to make more of it than it was and texted back.
It’s almost over, right?
Not only did he text her all her way home he continued to do so even on his way home. He said he had two hours to kill in the back seat of his dad’s car, and Rose decided it was just that. He was killing time. Though every ping of her phone alerting her of a new message from him made her entire face light up, she kept reminding herself about the impossibility that they could ever be more than just friends.
As the days passed she kept expecting his texts to dwindle until they stopped all together, but just the opposite happened. Not only did they continue, Vincent suddenly became the person she texted with the most. The scary part was she liked it too much. If he ever went too long without texting her, she’d start to worry it was the beginning of the end; then he’d text something that would make her insides go all mushy again. It’d been weeks now, and she now woke to his texts with a giant smile: one she could tell made Grace nervous.
Vince: Morning Rosie! How you feeling?
Rose: =) Morning Vincent. And I wish I could say I wasn’t but I’m nervous.
Vince: Don’t be. You’ll do great; you’ll see. You’re a born athlete. I’ve read that most athletes good at one sport, typically excel at any sport. You got this!
Rose smiled as big as she always did at just about anything he’d texted her, but she especially liked how he was always so encouraging. Never one to be so full of doubt, she was now, so this really helped. She was trying out for the varsity volleyball team. She’d been playing soccer since she was a little girl, but she’d only ever played volleyball when she tried out for the team her freshman year. Now she wanted to move up and letter in volleyball, too. But there were so many other girls who she was afraid might be better than she was. If she stayed on the junior varsity team, she’d be a starter for sure, but if she went for varsity, she might make the team but not get much play time. She’d actually considered forgetting about trying out and just staying in JV. Vincent, however, was adamant that she go for it or she’d regret it. Unlike her he was convinced that not only would she make the team she’d be a starter for sure. And he’d never even seen her play! Her phone pinged again; she smiled instantly.
Vince: “I can accept failure; everyone fails at something, but I can't accept not trying.” ~Michael Jordan~ You can’t argue with Jordan, Rose! You HAVE to at least try.
Rose laughed out loud. He was always doing this. Quoting something he’d read somewhere or following up an argument with facts and stats.
Rose: You’re right. I guess can’t argue with Jordan…or you.
Vince: Oh, you never wanna argue with me, Rose.
Rose laughed again, feeling silly. It wasn’t even that funny, but he made her so giddy it was almost embarrassing. Grace, as usual, was giving her that look. Rose knew her constant texting with Vincent made her sister nervous. But he was so far away. What could she possibly worry about?
Weeks later she started practicing on the varsity volleyball team, and the coach was already saying she’d be starting more often than not. Vincent couldn’t be more smug about having been right again. They were still texting day and night, and Rose was finally free of her fear that he’d suddenly stop. The fact remained that he lived two hours away and neither of them had a car. Rose didn’t even have her license yet, so they spoke in terms of friends only—nothing more. Rose liked it that way. It took the pressure off of trying to be cool or sexy or flirtatious. Though he did say things sometimes in his texts that seemed like he might be flirting with her and gave her a major case of the butterflies every time. Just before going to bed one night, she got a text out of the blue from him. They’d stopped texting earlier, and she thought that was it for the night. Then her phone pinged.
