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br /> Or was he just being funny?
My stomach flip-flops. How
should I answer? Should I answer
at all? OMG. Because I think
I love him, too. But do I dare
tell him that? What if he didn’t
mean it? I might scare him away.
But what if he did and I don’t
let him know I feel the same way?
Why doesn’t love come with
an owner’s manual? Maybe I should
try “funny” too. I text, “No matter
what kind of cook you are, I think
I love you, too.” My finger hesitates
over the send button. I reread
his message. Reread mine, too.
Ah, what the heck? Here goes.
OFF
Through
cyberspace
the declaration
travels. Byte
by byte.
I wait.
One minute.
Two. No answer.
Please, Bryce?
Seconds tick
by. Damn!
Joke.
