Page 17 of Pretty Please Me
Finally, I close the cabinet doors and release a sigh of relief. That was way too close for comfort. I’m going to keep my nose out of Sam’s business from now on.
Walking out of the bathroom, I’m surprised to find my clothes freshly washed and pressed, folded neatly in a pile on the dresser with the embarrassing napkin on top.
Oh, great, this just keeps getting better and better. I swipe the napkin up and shake it at the sky. “Haven’t I been humiliated enough?”
I plop down on the bed with a bounce and shove my face into a pillow as I let out a feral scream of frustration. Why can’t things just be easy for once?
I roll onto my back and stare up at the intricate crown molding as the napkin message plays on repeat in my mind. It’s not just some random psychic hoopla. It’s Damian. He’s literally proved himself time and time again. It may seem insane, but I actually believe him, which is why everything is so confusing. Why did all of this have to happen right now?
As if on cue, my phone buzzes against my leg, and I sit up with an exasperated sigh. Ok, universe, I’m listening.
I swipe open the lock screen and find a message notification from Trent.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I hug the phone to my chest, looking around suspiciously as a million thoughts begin racing through my mind.
When I’ve finally gathered myself, I take a breath and open the app.
Trent
Hey Maggie!
I just wanted to check in. I noticed you haven’t RSVP’d for the reunion yet.
The green dot next to his name indicates he’s currently online, not that I didn’t grasp that from the message notification, but then I realize I also have a green dot next to my name.
Shit, I can’t just leave him on read when he can clearly see that I read his message. I wipe my sweaty palms on the duvet before typing out a response.
Hey!
It’s so good to hear from you. Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to RSVP to the reunion. I was originally planning on trying to go, but I’ve just had a major hiccup with my yoga studio. I feel like I’ll be tied up with repairs for the foreseeable future.
Good luck with everything, and it was great hearing from you!
I breathe out a long sigh. There, that wasn’t so bad. I hate disappointing people, especially someone like Trent. My younger self would’ve peed her pants if I even thought he knew I existed, much less cared if I came to the reunion.
I stare at his small circular photo. He’s aged a bit, his hairline’s receding slightly, but he still looks incredible with his dimples and bright blue eyes. It’s too bad I can’t make it. It really would’ve been something to see him again in the flesh.
Another notification breaks me from my trance.
Trent
Well, I have to say I’m incredibly disappointed to hear that you can’t make it. I have to admit I was looking forward to reconnecting with you…
I bite my lip as I let his words sink in. Trent was the first person ever to notice me. Growing up in foster care, I had to move around a lot, which made it hard for me to make connections with anyone, especially friends.
We were partnered up in science class our freshman year and slowly became friends over the semester. He was skinny and a little shy, like me, even though he was on the football team.
He was my only friend back then, and I had the biggest crush on him. I don’t know if he was just being nice or if he shared the same sentiment, but he asked me to the spring formal that year.
I was so excited to go but ended up getting moved to a new foster home when my foster family got selected for a new baby. Then overnight, I was rehomed to a new family a few hours outside of Madison. It was a week before the dance, and it happened so fast I didn’t have time to tell him.
I lived with that family for another two years until the same thing happened again, and I got moved back to Bramville to a group home my senior year.
By the time I saw him again, I almost didn’t recognize him. He’d climbed the ranks to be captain of the football team, his skinny frame now bulky with muscles, and he was dating the head cheerleader. He was Mr. Bramville High, and I couldn’t blame him for moving on. I didn’t fit into his friend group or his life anymore. He was still kind, but he never really went out of his way to speak to me.
Really? I didn’t even think you noticed me after I moved away…
I type the message out and hit send before my brain can register my candor. Immediately I see the three little dots indicating he’s typing a response.
