Scarlett:
Not good enough.
Evan:
If you do this for me, I’ll help you with your list.
I set my phone down on the bedside table, watching the three dots appear and disappear.
It’s been a week and a half since Scarlett fell asleep in my hotel room. I’ve seen her in two classes since then and I can’t help but think she’s ignoring me. I don’t regret helping her. I don’t regret getting out of my head and going to the bar when it was the last thing I wanted to do. But something tells me I shouldn’t have let her fall asleep on my bed. I should’ve woken her up and walked her to her own room. But I didn’t. I sat there, quietly in the chair, only stirring whenever she moved to get comfortable again.
In the morning, all she did was glare and scowl at me before rushing out to her room. She didn’t sit next to me on the bus to the airport, even though I desperately wanted her to make funof my cassette. Instead, she sat alone at the front of the bus, headphones in her ears.
I don’t know why I care so much. I shouldn’t. I told her already that it wasn’t a big deal, so why can’t I stop myself from thinking about her? The way she looked at me in the bar. The star tattoo I saw peeking out behind her ear when I held her hair back. How she looked in my shirt. On my bed. The way she opened up to me and let her walls down for once.
I’m looping my tie around my neck when my phone pings.
Scarlett:
I already told you, I don’t want or need your help.
Evan:
I think you do . . .
She doesn’t respond for a few minutes, but I shoot her another text, the real reason why I had her text thread up in the first place.
Evan:
Anyway, we need to get started on the presentation. Are you free today?
