Page 8 of Worth the Fall

When we make it to the car, Hector is already waiting for us. I pause momentarily to assess my eye in the reflection. It’s not as bad as I expected but it’ll take more than just a dab of concealer to cover it. I thought for sure I’d look like Slot fromThe Goonies.

"This is why I run, because running would never betray me with a ball flying a hundred miles an hour directly into my face in front of one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life! Thisis the last time I’m ever letting you talk me into a group exercise activity," I hiss once we’re out of earshot of anyone else.

"Ohhh, so you think Miguel is hot?"

"So not the point."

"It was actually the entire point. Why do you think I invited you?" She giggles, sliding into the back seat with me as Hector gets into the driver’s seat. "Did you hear that, Hector? She thinks he’s fiiiiiine."

"Of course she does." Hector laughs. "I don’t think Miguel has met a single woman who didn’t have that same opinion."

"Hector always jokes that Miguel got the looks, he got the brains."

"Because being a lawyer is for stupid people?" I joke, knowing damn well that Hector has put his blood, sweat, and tears into his career as an ER physician. Between the two of them, they have enough good looks and brains to give any movie star or athlete a run for their money.

"Babe, swing through the drive-through at Starbucks. It’s the least we can do since we almost blinded our new neighbor and now insulted her intelligence."

I'm pacing my apartment, phone in hand, while Becca lounges on my couch like she's settling in for coffee and a show. The show being my complete inability to compose a simple text message.

"Just text him," she says, flipping through a magazine with infuriating casualness. "You obviously had chemistry. It was palpable."

"I can't just text him," I protest, making another lap around my coffee table. "I need a reason. Something professional. Dignified. Something that doesn't scream 'Hi, remember me? The girl who face-planted into a pickleball in front of you?'"

She looks at me like I’m making things harder than they need to be—most likely because that’s exactly what I’m doing.

"After the effort you went through to get his number, now you’re going to chicken out?"

It wasn’t exactly a planned-out thought when I asked Austin for Miguel’s number. It was planned for me to drop off a box of fresh donuts yesterday and ask about him how things went with Taylor after the game. A little matchmaking idea Becca and I came up with on our way home from the pickleball courts yesterday.

"I’m rusty. I was with the same guy for twelve years. They didn’t even have texting back when I was newly on the dating scene."

"That’s because you guys started dating when you were fifteen—back then our only mode of communication was passing notes in study hall. Oh, by the way." She giggles. "Taylor didn’t suspect a thing yesterday when I went over to her place. I can confirm that she is also so in love with him it’s not even funny and she was DYING to talk about that kiss."

While I can’t wait to hear more about Austin and Taylor’s gossip, I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown trying to figure out how to sound casual, cool, mysterious, sexy, and professional… and interesting in one single text.

"Help me!" I say almost desperately.

"Okay, okay," she moans, tossing the magazine onto the table and sitting up. "How about… 'Hey, thanks for making sure I didn't have a concussion when my ex-date hit me in the face with a pickleball'?"

"Wait—does he know that Austin and I went out once?"

She shrugs. "Actually, I’m not sure."

I groan, flopping down beside her. "Okay, how about this?" I hold up my phone, displaying my latest attempt:

Draft 1:Hey, it was great meeting you today! Would love to grab coffee sometime! Let me know what day/time works best for you!

"Too eager," Becca declares, not even looking up from her magazine. "Next."

"You’re right, way too many exclamation points." I delete the message and try again. "How about this?"

Draft 2:Thanks for the medical assistance. Maybe I could buy you a coffee as thanks?

"Too formal. Are you asking him out or submitting a medical reimbursement claim?"

"I’m NOT asking him out. I’m trying to sound casual with a touch of professional, like maybe I need to pick his brain about a legal matter!" I say excitedly about my new approach. I type out what I think is the perfect subtle text. "Okay, last one."

Draft 3:So, about that work-life balance thing, any articles or resources you can point me toward to help a workaholic out?

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