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Winnie counted them off on her fingers. “Incredibly smart, yet humble. Teddy-bear bod, but strong. And broad. I like broad shoulders. Doesn’t mind a mess but likes to clean. Funny. A bit mouthy, but also tender. Loves his job and gets to boss people around, but they adore him for it. He needs a great set of calves, but he can’t be a gym guy. More like a garage gym guy who’s also good with cats. Especially rescue cats.”
I laughed. “Is that all?”
“No, but you don’t have time to listen to the rest of my list and neither does Maria. Good luck on your date tonight.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.” I waved goodbye and moved to lock up, but at the last second, I ran in and added one of my felt flower pins to the collar of my yellow cardigan. The hot pink against the sunny yellow made my heart sing. It felt like me, and I had no reason to hide that, especially from Isaac.
Chapter 6 - Isaac
Zac! Zaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaac! I’m so glad my mom let me set up this email address because now I can bother you whenever I want. Like it’s 6:30 a.m. and I’m so bored because everyone else is still asleep. It’s Saturday! It’s a day for doing things! I’m sending a picture of Luchador my cat. He caught another bird and a gopher yesterday. I don’t know when he hunts because all he does is sit on our back porch all day napping and making mean faces when you try to talk to him. My brother says it’s because he’s a million years old. He’s just an old grump.
Oh, I’m back. I forgot to hit send, but that’s okay because I have to tell you that my neighbor had a yard sale, and because I helped her so much, she let me have all her vintage Barbie dolls. Like, they would be worth $$$$, except her daughter drew on them with marker when she was little and cut all their hair off. I’m giving them a makeover. I think someone should invent Barbie hair extensions because everyone cuts their doll’s hair off and then later they’re like noooooooooo and there’s nothing they can do to bring it back. Or maybe I’ll invent Barbie wigs and get rich. I’m going to try. Okay, bye!
Your bestest pen pal bud for four years, FOUR YEARS!
Carmen
Dear Carmen,
You should make Barbie wigs from all the hair my dog sheds. I’ll send you some in a bag, but then I’m taking half the money when you make millions. That gives me an idea for a movie. Not the wig thing. But picture this—
Some creepy guy sends bags of hair in the mail to people. Just hair. And if they get it, they only have seven days to live. I call it: Hairy Omen. Good, right?
From,
Zac
Steamers was a happening place on a Friday night. Every table was filled with loud, caffeinated people, and they had a small stage set up with a guitar on a stand, speakers, and a microphone ready to go. This was not exactly an ideal setup for a serious conversation like the one I’d hoped to have with Carmen tonight.
I eyed a couple who looked like they were almost done with their table, ready to pounce as soon as they vacated it. Unfortunately, once they realized I was lurking, they were suddenly in much less of a hurry. Jerks. I had no choice but to get in line to avoid their glares.
Ordering for both of us ahead of time was not actually a bad idea, but I had no idea how Carmen would feel about that, and even less of an idea of what she’d want. Last time I checked, her drink of choice was a grape slush from Sonic. But that was the thirteen-year-old version of Carmen. They started adding Nerds candy to their slushes the summer after we stopped being friends, and I instinctively knew it was something she would’ve really loved. The old Carmen was like a ghost that haunted my teen and college years.
To say seeing her again last year had been a shock was not putting it strongly enough. I had panicked, and in that panic, I let myself believe it was better to pretend I didn’t remember her.
I seemed to make mistake after mistake when it came to her. My nerves were not giving me a lot of confidence that I was about to break my losing streak. I heard a lot of people in the line around me raving about the cold coffee brew, so I ordered that when I reached the front and took it back with me to a table the second I managed to grab one. I didn’t dare order for Carmen.
The first sip was delicious, and I was just congratulating myself on picking something awesome when the aftertaste hit and I almost gagged. Carmen walked up in time to see me push it away with a grimace.
“That bad, huh?”
“I think it’s me. They said it’s their most popular drink.”
She leaned over and took a sip, tucking her straight, dark hair behind one ear to keep it from falling forward. I hid my shock that despite calling me a flat tire the last time we talked, she was fine with putting her lips where mine had been.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Too sugary. But also bitter. And not in a good way.”
Our eyes met and we stared at each other for several seconds. Carmen’s gaze challenged me to say something, though what, I wasn’t sure. That I was happy she came? That she looked beautiful? That last one seemed like something she wouldn’t welcome hearing from me, but despite her cool gaze, I sensed uncertainty.Just say it, man. Tell her.
“You look… nice.” I scratched the back of my neck, feeling like an idiot. That hadn’t been very specific. She always dressed colorfully and had a smile that was like pure sunshine, but she wasn’t smiling right now so I added, “I like your… everything.” Wow, I was really hitting it out of the park.
“My everything?” Her eyes widened.
“That didn’t come out right.”
And yet she smiled, looking pleased and embarrassed and amused, and that was so much better than aloof and distant. It reminded me of the Carmen I once knew. The one who reveled in ridiculous things. Our messages back and forth had never been serious. Although, thinking back, maybe we should have been occasionally serious, or as serious as two tweens can be. It might have led me to confide in her more.
