I’ll take that as a sign.
Me:What are you doing tonight? Nothing too specific, obviously, but I need to know you’re out there killing it—unlike me, who is wallowing on her parents’ ultra-90s couch with food regret, mismatched socks, and an overwhelming desire to watchAre You Afraid of the Dark?reruns.
Not thinking he’s going to see my message right away, I set my phone down on the little side table next to the couch—the same old oak table I remember picking up at a garage sale when I was seven or eight.
There are rooster drawer handles.
Smiling to myself, I ponder whether or not Zephyr will even know what television show I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to figure out what the seventy-nine in his e-mail address alludes to, and birth year is statistically the most probable. That would make him… forty-two.
I’m startled when my phone instantly vibrates, and I snatch it up, my eyes scanning the reply.
Zephyr:I’ll sound a lot cooler if I lie to you.
A grin pulls at my lips.
Me:Fair enough. I’m expecting gold now, though… no pressure.
Zephyr:I’m fantastic under pressure. Picture this: Gloucestershire, England, UK.
Me:Fancy.
Zephyr:I know. But it gets better… there’s cheese.
Me:Cheese?
Zephyr:Yeah. A nine-pound wheel of double Gloucester cheese.
Me:The mental image is a bit unclear, and also bizarre. Go on.
Zephyr:It’s a race down Cooper’s Hill. There’s danger, intrigue, steep hills, stones, and sharp objects. The speed of the cheese is harrowing at best.
Me:The speed of the cheese? I thought you were eating the cheese.
Zephyr:No. I’m rollingthe cheese. It’s a cheese-rolling race, and it’s highly competitive.
A laughter-infused snort escapes my lips, and it takes a moment to gather my bearings.
Me:I’m dying over here.
Zephyr:I hope not. Who will celebrate my victory when I become the cheese champion?
Me:Stoppp. I can’t stop laughing. What do you even win?
Zephyr:I’m not sure. Google hasn’t told me that yet. But I really hope it’s cheese because I’m suddenly crazy hungry.
My smile is so wide, my cheeks ache.
Me:That was great. I feel better about my inadequate life now.
Zephyr:I’m here to help.
Nibbling my lip, I debate my next reply. While I enjoy our light and witty conversations, part of me is craving more. I promised I wouldn’t ask him anything personal, but…
Me:Hey. Can I ask you something?
There’s a brief pause that has me fidgeting beneath Nana’s lime green quilt.
Zephyr:I never understood that question. Can you? Obviously. Will I answer to your heart’s desire? Inconclusive.