Fifteen goddamn Cassidy’s.
I could make a collage.
She’s laughing now. Leaning forward like she’s actually interested in whatever Discount Wall Street is saying. She’ssmilingat this piece of garbage.
Nope. Don’t like that either.
I grab my phone, pull up her contact, and hover for a second thinking of what to send. Something subtle. Just enough to make her squirm.
JAXON: So… what cha doin?
A few seconds pass.
On screen, her phone lights up against the table. She glances down discreetly, just long enough to catch the preview. Doesn’t even open it. Just turns it over.
Face down.
Harsh.
“Mkay… so we’re gonna play hard to get.”That’s my favorite fucking game, Cricket.
I stretch out on the couch, crack my neck, and type again.
JAXON: Oh that sounds like fun.
Me, you ask?
Nothing much. Just… hanging out. Watching something interesting.
Still nothing.
She's nodding along now like this guy invented Bitcoin and didn’t major in fraternity keg stands.
I drum my fingers once, grin wide.
JAXON: Are you out?
Nothing.
JAXON: With friends?
I know her phone is buzzing every few seconds with my texts.
Her hand reaches for her wine, jaw tight.
She picks up her phone again. Glances at the screen. Taps out a reply with her thumb.
CASSIDY: Why are you texting me?
I canhearthe irritation in those four words.
I respond immediately.
JAXON: I don’t know. Thought we were bonding.
Don’t you feel this emotional connection?
CASSIDY: No.
