Page 30 of Fighting

Uh, okay. The only part you have correct is that I’m walking around with Taylor Lautner’s face plastered to my chest.

Mateo:

That’s fair. You are classy. How about this vibrator instead?

Ivy:

OH! ONLY $20K? Sure. I’ll go order that right now.

Mateo:

Are you more of a gold or silver person?

Ivy:

Mateo:

One of each?

Never mind, I’ll pick.

Expect a package soon.

Ivy:

You did not!!!

Mateo:

Guess you’ll find out

CanI send her a twenty-thousand-dollar vibrator just because? I can.

Would it be reasonable? Not even close.

Plus, now that I’ve sent her the link, I’ve removed the element of surprise.

Instead, I find something better and choose rush shipping.

Then I watch the status updates, tracking the package from pending to shipping.

From the warehouse to the first postal stop, then another.

After another few days, it’s arrived in the US.

Next, it’s with the local mail carrier. It’s delivered to her house on Dragonfly Lane.

It’ll be waiting for her on her doorstep when I drop her off after work.

The whole way home, I work overtime to put a lid on my enthusiasm. I’m giddy, amped up like a puppy with zoomies. But I don’t want to ruin the surprise.

It only took a couple of days to discover that the key to unlocking playful Nessa was a great playlist. As a man who grew up surrounded by people who loved to break out the karaoke machine at parties, I’ve been training for this my whole life.

I distract her from my giddiness by putting on a playlist full of high-energy girlie pop artists. My smiles don’t raise suspicion since I’m also belting out bangers.

In the car like this, she becomes my favorite version of Nessa. She’s a series of perfect contradictions: tough, feminine, empathetic, and brilliant, while also being biting and sarcastic. And she takes no shit.

---