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What was supposed to just be a message confirming he did actually want that future date turned into a thread that kept going throughout the rest of the day and didn’t stop until it was time for me to go to bed. I sent one final message and tucked my phone under my pillow before sliding under the covers and turning off the lights with a smile.
Before I lifted my head off the pillow the next morning, he sent me another message. My phone chimed under my pillow, and I smiled again as I reached for it.
Good morning, the message said. Hope you’re feeling a bit better today.
Maybe it was Alex’s hope, and maybe it was just the week of guzzling liquids and watching a lot of useless TV, but I realized I was feeling miraculously better. The dull headache that had been pretty much my constant companion since waking up Monday was gone, and I didn’t feel any twisting or flipping around in my stomach. I barely remembered what it was like to feel good, and for a little while, I just lay there in bed savoring it.
I wasn’t one hundred percent yet. The week had taken its toll on my strength and energy. But at least I didn’t feel sick.
I’m feeling much better. Thank you, I messaged back to Alex.
It was probably the greens. I’ve heard they’re really good for you.
I giggled as I got up and made my way into the bathroom for a shower.
It felt good to wash off without trying to beat the clock to get out before the next wave of sick hit me. The only thing that was keeping me from just standing under the water for the next couple of hours, taking full advantage of the amazing hot water capacity that was the one exceptional feature of my apartment, was the messages appearing on my phone.
I didn’t want to miss them. Mr. Proctor had emphasized how smart Alex was, but he never told me he was funny. Discovering that was a very welcome surprise, and I was enjoying our conversation. Our conversation shifted away from the absurd, and we started talking about more practical things about our lives. By the time he had to take his leave of the conversation because he needed to meet up with his brothers, I was just about vibrating with excitement and the need to talk through all of this with Fiona.
Fortunately, my best friend was fantastic at making up for missed phone calls and loved nothing more than a good gabfest. That meant she showed up at my apartment about half an hour later, arms full of takeout containers from a local brunch spot. She was also holding a cardboard carrier with large cups of coffee that smelled far better than the drip that came out of my little maker in my kitchen.
We brought everything into the living room and spread it out on the table, and then I went to the kitchen for plates and forks. As we distributed the food, I started telling her about Alex. I’d only given her the smallest introduction when we saw him at the bar, so this time I went back and filled in everything. We were deep in our pancakes when she nodded.
“I’m telling you, that man wants you. I barely knew anything about him when we saw him at the bar, and I could still tell you that. He looked at you like he thought you looked delicious,” she said. “You better prepare yourself for him asking you out.”
“I didn’t have the chance to,” I said.
I let that sink in for a second and watched as Fiona’s expression changed.
“What?” she asked.
“I ran into him at the farmer’s market yesterday. Quite literally. That was not a great moment. And then I almost threw up on him. A continuation of the not-great moment. But then he helped me over to a bench and sat with me until I felt better. Right when he was leaving, he said he wanted to take me to dinner when I’m feeling better.”
Her face lit up. “I knew it! What did you say? Tell me you said yes. You better have said yes.”
I laughed. “I said yes. Well, I said sure if he was sure. Then when I got home, I texted him to ask if he was really sure.”
“Oh, come on, Camilla. You’ve got to get your confidence back up. It’s so obvious how much he likes you. What did he say when you texted him?”
I told her all about our conversation and how funny Alex was. She kept telling me how good it was that we were enjoying our chat and encouraging me to keep talking to him. When I was all talked out, Fiona gave me a devilish look.
“Can I tell you about my date now?” she asked.
