Page 60 of Reel Love

You always make me laugh. Do you know that?

Only when you tell me I do, since I can’t hear you.

Neither of us types anything. My statement implies a barrier we both dance around. We’ll never puncture it, even if she does live in the same time zone. Who meets a complete stranger on agaming app and ends up meeting them later in real life? No one, that’s who.

Well, I’m laughing now, she types.

I’m glad.

And, I won’t tell you why I made that gamer tag. You now know I live on an American island.

I type:I do too.

What? You live on an island? Are you messing with me right now?

No. I’m not messing with you.I want her to know. Whether she ever tells me where she really is or not, I want her to know where I am.I’m on an island off the coast of California. It’s called Marbella.

The screen sits quiet. Her cursor doesn’t move. The dots don’t appear. I wait.

Are you still there?I ask. Maybe she had to leave her phone to go do something.

I lay down SCABBARD, making use of her C. Sixteen points.

Still nothing from her.

I read back through our chat, checking if I said anything that might have sounded different in print than it did in my head. Tone can be tricky when people are texting. Everything looks neutral.

SaturdayIslandGirl’s cursor blinks to life. The three dots start and stop a few times. Then the most incredible words appear on my screen.

I live on Marbella Island too.

I’ve always heard of people’s jaws actually dropping. Mostly, it’s a figure of speech. Right now, I have to remind myself to shut my mouth because it is gaping open as I read and reread her sentence.

You live on Marbella?I ask, even though her statement speaks for itself.

I do.

I’m sitting up, away from my pillows now. She’s here, right onthis island. My body hums with the urge to leave my room, my home, my neighborhood. What if she’s across the street, or one block over? She’s here. Right here. All along, she’s been here.

You’re here. On Marbella.

I am.

Is your mind as blown as mine right now?

Hard to say. I don’t know how blown your mind is. But this is insanely coincidental. What’s the likelihood?

I’m a man of statistics and I still couldn’t tell you the likelihood. It’s got to be in the billions in probability. Well, no. Billions, based on the earth’s population. Although, probability isn’t a direct correlation to the exact number of one-to-one options. Anyway … I can’t believe this is real.

And yet, here we are.

Here we are,I echo, my mind still reeling in awe and disbelief.

She’s here. On my island.

I don’t dare ask her where on the island she is. Not tonight. Instinctively, I know I’ve pushed her far enough. She’d tell me if she wanted to. But from now on, every stranger, every person who isn’t attached to someone, will be a potential SaturdayIslandGirl to me. I’ll walk around with an invisible antenna, asking myself,Is that her?Could that be her?

What a coincidence, I type.Amazing.

---