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Braden
I turn my phone screen on and stare at it for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, like maybe it says something different. Maybe I blacked out at some point and actually had the balls to do it. But, no. It’s still an open text conversation with the cursor blinking back at me, ready to start a conversation with Blind Date Girl. Well, that’s what she’s in my phone as. Sucky name. If we don’t exchange names, I’m going to need a better nickname for her.
Fuck. It’s time. I’m doing this. Just before the screen turns off again I tap the keyboard, typing out a quick text.
Me: Hi. This is Leigh’s friend.
And send.
I read it back. All five words. And it sounds ridiculous. Lame. But, hey, at least I sent it. I don’t even know why I’m so nervous. Maybe because I’ve never actually dated a girl before. I hooked up plenty of times last spring, but most of the time at least one of us was drunk. I grimace at the thought. I still haven’t completely reconciled with that version of myself. Hopefully, I’ll get there.
Just before my phone screen turns off, a text comes through.
BDG: Hey. Assuming you’re the guy she wouldn’t shut up about whenever I was around.
BDG: Wait. You are a guy, right? Leigh knows I’m straight, but it seems just like her to connect me with some girl she thought was perfect.
Me: I’m a guy. I could send photographic evidence, but I’ve heard that’s frowned upon.
BDG: Maybe in time.;) Besides, if you did send something, you could easily download it off the internet. There’s plenty of peen out there.
Me: Familiar with a lot of it, are you? Wait. Hold on. How do I know you aren’t a guy?
The banter relaxes me. But not enough. Because my phone rings. Holy shit, she’s calling me. Completely flummoxed, I stare at my phone, forgetting how to move or breathe or answer.Shit, answer.And it goes to voicemail. Fuck, I’m an idiot. I just wasn’t expecting her to be so… bold.
Before my hand and my brain connect, my fingers go rogue, quickly calling her back. With no other choice, I press the phone to my ear.
“Hmm. I thought maybe you ghosted me already.”
“Nope. Just caught me off guard. You haven’t scared me away yet.”
“Hold on, let me turn my voice modifier off and we’ll see what you think.”
Oh. Damn. Her voice is soft but energetic with a playful lilt, the tiniest hint of sass that makes my body heat uncontrollably for her.
And that’s just her voice.
One minute into a conversation, and I already know this girl has the ability to wreck me.
“Haven’t heard any difference yet.”
“Ah, you caught me. I’m not a guy, just a girl who hates wedding dresses but made a solid friend, who constantly told me she knew the perfect person for me. Now I apparently have a blind phone date.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to stayblind. We could say our names.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I want to. I like the idea of getting to know you for you, not for what you’re perceived as. I know if I find out your name, I’ll be searching for you, trying to learn about you, even if it goes against my gut instinct.”
“I’d probably do the same,” I admit.
“Okay then, no names. And no photos. We can talk, get to know each other, describe ourselves, but that’s it.”
“Deal.”
“All right then, tell me something about you. Or better yet, I’ll ask you a question.”
Leaning back against my pillows, I smile softly. “Shoot.”
“Why didn’t you answer my call?”
