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I tell him goodbye and then go take a shower.
During practice today, my focus is razer sharp as I move through the drills and I crack a ton of jokes, feeling lighthearted.
As the day goes on, I still haven’t heard from Elsa, and I consider calling her, but decide to wait a bit longer.
When I head to the car to go grab some dinner, I take out my phone to start my playlist. When I do, I see a text from Elsa.
Finally!
It’s short and simple, but I don’t care. I’ll take it.
When are you going to pick me up on Friday?
Chapter Seven
ELSA
CanItakeyouto dinner Thursday night?
I know that’s tomorrow, so short notice, but I hope you can make it.
His response to my curt text catches me off guard but what surprises me even more are the butterflies that start to come alive in my stomach.
What is wrong with you?
He’s an arrogant asshole, remember?
I sigh and try to figure out how to reply. I don’t want to seem too eager after all.
“Elsa, dinner!” mom yells. I startle in place and almost drop my phone. Laughing at myself, I decide to leave my phone downstairs and then come back to it after dinner.
No reason not to make him wait, right?
As I head upstairs, I turn back to look at my makeshift basement home. It’s still full of boxes and bins, but I’ve pushed them all to one side of the room, so they are out of the way.
It’s dimly lit by the soft, warm glow of a few strategically placed lamps in corners and along the walls.
I don’t have a bed exactly, but the well-worn sofa in the middle of the area opens into one.
I shake my head and remind myself it’s just temporary as I walk upstairs.
Mom is talking nonstop throughout dinner about Harvey. I mainly just listen. Dad eats as quickly as possible then excuses himself to go work on the car in the garage.
“Elsa, are you listening?”
I smile absentmindedly. “I’m sorry mom. I’m just tired. I think I’m going to head downstairs and start packing for the wedding this weekend and—”
Before I can say anything else, mom nods enthusiastically and basically shoos me away from the table.
“Do whatever you need to, dear! I’m just so happy to see you spending time with such a wonderful man. Who knows, maybe the next wedding you go to will be your own!”
My eyes grow wide, and I just get up from the table, put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and head downstairs with a glass of water.
I open the sofa into a bed and curl up with my pillow, blanket, and phone. With a triumphant smile on my face, I text Harvey back.
As long as I get to pick the place this time.
The next twenty-four hours go by in a blur. I’m annoyed to find myself nervous about seeing Harvey again and having dinner with him.
