“I love when you hold me like this,” I say.“I feel like a little koala bear in your arms.”
“Koala Casey?”A smile drifts onto his lips.“So does that make me eucalyptus?”
“Yes.I need a steady diet of your cockalyptus.”
He groans, but not because the joke is bad.I can feel he’s hard as he reluctantly lets me slide to the floor.He’s running behind and needs to catch a plane.“After I get back, we’ll work on getting you those nutrients.”
“Have fun.Go be successful and hot,” I call out after him, waving from the threshold.
“You too, Case.”He winks as he slides into the driver’s seat.I heft with a laugh.That’s not gonna happen.How could I be considered successful and hot?But then Griffin’s voice breaks through.
You have a habit of underestimating yourself.
“Fine, I’ll be successful and hot,” I mumble to myself as I step back into the house and shut the door.Then the reality of the situation hits me.
Griffin is going to be gone for two entire days.
As a recently established fuckbuddy/puck bunny/who knows what this is, two days is aneternity.
So I do what I do best: escape into fictional worlds.I’m on a crime thriller featuring a news anchor who’s been getting violently ill during her broadcasts, but I have to stop when I hit the halfway mark because I can’t handle the possibility that the heroine’s husband might actually be the one poisoning her after everything they went through.
These are the types of thoughts that burst out of me that I never have anywhere toput.I always write reviews of books after I read them, since I log my progress and set annual goals in an online book tracker.But there are so many thoughts that come before that review that I want to share.And unless I’m buddy reading, they just wither and evaporate inside of me.
My mind drifts to what Abby—the beautiful, book-loving flirt who will hopefully never touch Griffin’s arm in my presence again—had suggested earlier this week at the bar.
The book review accounts on TikTok.
I don’t even have the app installed on my phone anymore, it’s been so long since I ditched my initial efforts.It takes me some time to get back into my account, and immediately I’m served a lot of weird content.Ice cream eating contests, designer bag sales, dry-skin peeling videos that I hope I never see again in my life.
But the longer I look for book review stuff, the more it starts to give me.Pretty soon, I’m in a rabbit hole of readers and reviewers who are sharing their voices and hot takes.I’ve been in full corporate social media marketing mode for so long, I forgot how to use it for myself.And I have to say—I enjoy it.
What if you really tried TikTok again?
The thought arrives stealthily.I already know exactly what I’d say about this crime thriller.I could probably talk for a half hour about the different character arc details and the way the author structures the surprises.
But as fast as the ideas come, the naysaying arrives.
Who in the world would even care about what I have to say?
What does it matter if I add to the conversation about this book?
Literally nobody cares about what I think of these characters.
I stare into space, letting my mind run amok.It’s noisy chaos in there, and only after I’ve spewed enough negative things to myself to sink a ship do I catch my spiral.I draw a deep breath, hearing Griffin’s words in my head again.
Idohave a habit of underestimating myself, and it’s happening right now.
In lieu of sharing my thoughts about the book on TikTok, I decide to get some fresh air.I don’t work until the closing shift tonight, so the late morning is my oyster.I toss on some workout shorts, a sports bra, and a loose tank and head outside.I don’t have a destination in mind, I just know that Griffin would recommend physical activity to get out of my head.
Griffin’s house is close to the boardwalk that hugs the shore, so I head that way and start wandering.The lake air, the humid breeze, and the blooming bushes, trees, and flower beds of downtown all help to quiet the noise in my head.Even though it’s my hometown, it’s still a surprise not to find the bustle of the big city outside my door.There’s no L train rumbling past my bathroom window, no wind tunnel of North and LaSalle.
I love living in the city and have ever since college graduation.
But there is something nice about the tranquility here.I can hear my thoughts better, even if they’re all over the place.
As I walk, I’m thinking about twenty-five things at once as usual: why Bayshore feels so unexpectedly nice after Chicago, what I’d say for my first TikTok video in years, whether any jobs in Chicago will request an interview, what is even happening between Griffin and me, to name a few.I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even notice there’s a world around me until a familiar voice pierces my bubble.
“Earth to Casey!Spacey Casey!Are you there?”
