Page 37 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

“Oh, really?” Greg says. “Because I did have some notes on this second point you made about Meron’s backstory. Are you sure you’re correctly interpreting the—”

Yobani cuts him off. “Of course he’s interpreting Meron’s backstory correctly. Here you go again acting like you know better than ev—”

“Typos, you guys. Typos.”

I wrote up a new post, a review of the new D&D sourcebook,Meron’s Monograph of Mischief, and I know it’s about to get the trolls all up in their feelings. So I asked Yobani and Greg to come over and look at it for me because the last thing I need is for the whole essay—which isnottoo long andcorrectlyinterprets Meron’s backstory—to be derailed by some typos for my haters to latch on to. I know there’s some. There always are, and probably even more than usual because I’ve been distracted by—

“Has she texted you yet?” Yobani asks. They’re apparently no longer arguing about my essay and have turned their attention fully to me.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, playing dumb. But he nods at my phone, which is unlocked and gripped in my hands.

“You know exactlywhoI’m talking about,” Yobani says with a smirk. “The same girl you’ve been checking for constantly ever since you somehow landed her number. De-li-lah!” He sings out her name like a song and mimes scrolling on his phone while he bats his eyelashes, all dramatic.

“I wasn’t even looking at my texts,” I mumble.

“Dude! Don’t lie!” Yobani pops out of the chair.

“I have to concur,” Greg says. “I mean, even if you weren’t specifically looking at your texts, you were probably staring at her band’s socials again. Let’s not get bogged down by semantics.”

Of coursethisis what brings them together.

“Okay, fine. I was checking, but there’s nothing new.” There hasn’t been for days now.

“But why can’t you just text her again?” Greg asks. “You’re spending a significant amount of time thinking about her. Why not just open up the chain of communication again?

“No!” Yobani and I both shout together. Because I definitely, definitely cannot do that.

“He sent the last text!” Yobani explains. “With a thirsty red heart—”

“It was not thirsty!” I interrupt. “It was just a nice, normal heart! She was nervous. I was trying to show her I supported her.”

“That is not what a red heart means. You shouldn’t be allowed to send emojis if you don’t understand them. Like, with great power comes great responsibility.” He shakes his head all serious, like what he just said made any sense. “Anyway, regardless of the fact that Reggie tried to boo her up after only a few texts—”

“It was just a heart!”

“—regardless, no matter what he last sent, he can’t text her again. It’ll look desperate. There has to be a back-and-forth.”

I sigh deeply. As much as I want to argue with Yobani, he’s right. Even though I apparently need a primer course on the true meaning of emojis, I know at least this basic fact about texting. I pushed things a little too far already when she disappeared with her migraine and I sent a string of increasingly desperate messages with no response. That worked out okay, thank god, but I can’t be tempting fate like that again.

“I just think this is a foolish move,” Greg says. “Why play a game when you know what you want? If you like her, tell her.”

And I do like her. What started out as something surface before, an infatuation with her incredibly cool persona and ridiculously gorgeous looks, has been growing steadily with just our few texts. She’s been vulnerable and real and funny. She’s read my writing. And when I told her about my disability, she just said okay.Like my disability is no big deal—which it isn’t. But people are always trying to make it one.

I know that I want to know more. I know I want to ask her on a date and treat her like the treasure she is and shout my feelings from the rooftops. But it’s not that easy. One wrong move, and she finds out what a nerd I am and everything I’ve been building will be dust.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gruly,” Yobani scoffs.

“First of all, Gruldaito Gloomcloud has plus twenty-five charisma and incredible seducing prowess. It’s on my character sheet,” Greg says, rolling his eyes. “And second of all, I’m pretty certain that I’ve had more partners than you.”

“Nah—You don’t— What,” Yobani sputters, and I crack up. Greg crosses his arms and smiles at Yobani smugly.

“That’s a flex, dude,” I laugh, reaching to give him a fist bump.

“Ahh, whatever. I am single by choice,” Yobani says. He sits down and turns back to the screen like he’s getting back to business, but I know he’s just hiding his flaming cheeks.

A second later, he’s screaming.

“Reggie! Reggie!!”

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