Page 27 of Coincidentally Kismet

As soon as I saw Elliott walk in the door with Cam, I knew that I had to talk to him. When Cam and I were dating, Elliott and I were close. He was the brother I never had but always wanted. I didn’t realize until I saw him yesterday just how much I missed our friendship. That dude has an unbelievable ability to make me laugh and to call me on my bullshit, not unlike his sister.

I asked him to talk mostly to clear the air. Not that I’m delusional enough to think things would ever be the same between us, but because I wanted him to hear it from me, man to man, what my truth is and what I intend to do about it. I’ve had a lot of time over these past few days to think, and I’ve realized, with the help of my sister, there are a few things that I know to be true. For starters, I care about Cam and I always will. She isn’t going away anytime soon, with Lo and Smith now a pair. Second, I can’t be with her. Not that she would want to be with me anyway, but I can’t. I am not willing to risk hurting her again or getting hurt. I made this decision five years ago for a reason, and I have to trust that it was the right choice. Finally, I would like for her and me to be friends. I’m not sure it’s possible given all the history, but she’s magnetic to be around. She’s funny, hardheaded, sassy, and the most genuinely caring person I’ve ever met. She’s a good friend, and I’d like to be one to her in return.

I asked Elliott if he thought it was possible that Cam would want to be friends. He said he wasn’t sure but that he thought it would be good for both of us to be able to get some closure and finally move forward. He even confirmed I still have the right phone number for her. God knows how many times I’ve almost called it over the years but stopped myself, not knowing who would be on the other end of the line. Now’s the time. I need to bite the bullet and text her—or should I try to call her? No, definitely text, that way if she’s sleeping, I don’t wake her up. And if she doesn’t want to respond, at least I’ll know if she leaves me on read. There’s a churning in my stomach and acid creeping up my throat as I open her contact.

Will

Hey, Wright. Hope the grease rinsed out of your hair okay.

I hit send and hop out of my bed like it’s on fire. I can’t lie here to see if she responds, the wait will kill me. And if she responds immediately, I know I’ll get a sense of false hope. This is precisely why I don’t deal with dating: I can’t do it. My anxiety over a stupid text message where I hope to ask a girl to be my friend has me ready to spin out.

I wander into the kitchen and start making coffee when Amy pops up from behind the peninsula looking ornery as all get out. “What’s the look you’re giving me, Aims?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

Of course, my sister just had to be in town, and suddenly become my new roommate, when all this went down. She will never let it go, and I can’t deal with disappointing her either. Amy always loved Cam. She looked up to her, and I’m sure I broke her heart as much as I did my own when I ended things.

“Soo...were you asking Elliott for her hand in marriage?” She chuckles.

“Amy, no, what the hell...She hates me!” I exclaim while chucking a wadded-up coffee filter at her.

Amy looks at me like I have three eyeballs and a snaggle tooth. “Are you serious, Will? You cannot think for a second that Cameron Wright actually hates you. The girl practically swoons every time she sees you. She may trade barbs with you out of anger, but there are hearts in her eyes when she does it, and there always will be,” Amy says defiantly.

“I texted her,” I admit at an almost inaudible volume.

“Wait. Why? Did she respond?” Amy asks before I even finish my sentence.

“I don’t know. I hit send and then ran out here to make coffee,” I say nonchalantly, when in reality, the wordscool,calm, andcollectedaren’t anywhere near to describing me at the moment.

Amy stares at me, mouth gaping like I just admitted to the crime of the century. Before I can even register what’s happening, she leaps up and darts into my bedroom, presumably to grab my phone. I continue making my coffee because I suspect she’s going to be highly disappointed when she sees no response from Cam, but then I hear her gasp. “William Jessie Davenport, did you seriously think it was a good idea to remind her of what I assume is the most humiliating moment of her life?” she shouts from the other room.

I shrug and carry my steaming mug into the bedroom with me. Amy is perched on the edge of my bed looking smug as hell. “Do you want to know what she said?” she asks, guiltily.

“Give me the phone, Aims,” I demand, holding my hand out palm side up.

“Nope, not unless I know that you aren’t going to be a total man about this and write something back that’s just as lame as your first message.”

I take a deep breath and run my free hand through my hair. “Fine, you can help me think of something to say, but first I need to know what she responded with.” Amy hands me the phone, and I see for myself.

Cam

Can we just pretend that the whole thing never happened, Rambo?

I shoot back a quick message. Amy smacks me when she sees what I am typing but hovers over my shoulder nonetheless.

Will

I mean, maybe, but you do have five million views on TikTok so it might be a challenge.

Cam

Shut up, no I do not. You better be joking!

Cam

By the way, are you just texting me to remind me of Grease Gate? Or is there another reason why are you messaging me, Rambo?

Will

I was hoping we could make a truce.

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