Page 18 of Pretty Please Me
Trent
Yeah, well, high school boys can be pretty dumb. I’m ashamed to admit I was blinded by popularity back then. Of course, I remembered you. How could I not? I was so bummed after I asked you to the dance, and you just disappeared. I thought you were avoiding me until word got around that you had to move. That was my first broken heart. I think I cried myself to sleep for a month.
My mouth goes dry as I reread his message at least five times before letting myself blink and swallowing the hard lump that’s formed in my throat. I can’t believe this. He actuallycriedover me? Little does he know I felt the same way, on top of all the emotional trauma of uprooting your life at a moment's notice.
I can’t help myself. I click on the event page, respondYesto the RSVP, then type out my response.
Wow, I had no idea. It killed me to leave without telling you… Listen, I’m going to see what I can do to make the reunion. I’d really like to reconnect with you too.
Trent
Seriously!? Wow, you just made my day. Listen, I’ve got to run. Here’s my cell number 555-981-0982. Call or text me anytime, okay?
Will do. Bye, Trent!
Dropping my phone, I let out an excited squeal, my face hurting from smiling so big. Maybe this is where my journey will lead me! With everything going on with the studio, it feels crazy even to be entertaining the idea of taking a trip to rekindle whatever this is with Trent, but isn’t that the whole point? Maybe the universe really does have my back, and I just need to start trusting that everything is working out like it’s supposed to.
I grab the fragile bar napkin and place it in the empty drawer of my side table. One day all of this will make sense, and I’ll have the memento as a physical reminder.
* * *
Three hours later, I’ve just finished loading the dishwasher when I hear Sam come through the door.
“Hey, Mags, sorry I’m late, but I stopped by that new sushi place you mentioned you wanted to try.” He comes around the corner with an armful of to-go containers stacked up to his chin. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything.”
I rush to help him, but he waves me away. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that! It’s more than enough that you’re letting me stay here. I don’t expect you to feed me and wash my clothes, too.”
He places the containers on the counter and smirks. “You could just saythank you. Maybe I like having you here as a guest. Did you ever consider that?”
I pause in the middle of my search for plates. What an odd thing to say.
“Just over there, in the corner,” he directs.
“Oh, got it.” I grab two plates and set them next to the spread of sushi. “Will it just be the two of us tonight, or should I grab another plate?” The question falls out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I snap my lips shut nervously.
“It’s just us.” Sam turns to face me and stills, narrowing his eyes. “Why are your cheeks so flushed? Are you hot?”
“Oh, yeah, I was doing jumping jacks right before you came home. You’ve got to get that cardio in every day, ya know?” I snatch a napkin off the counter to fan my face, but it’s too limp to do much, so I have to wave it faster than what seems natural.
Sam just stares at me with a look of confusion, and I finally abandon the fan idea and start loading my plate with sushi.
Why can’t I just act naturally? He doesn’t need to know that I know about his dirty bathroom secrets. We’re both adults. Maybe I just need to pretend to have found his board game stash. That’s it; I’ll just pretend it’s something else. No big deal.
“Your hair looks nice,” he says as he lines sushi on his plate.
My hand freezes, hovering over the spicy tuna roll. “Uh, thank you. I… um… I used your Dyson Airwrap in the bathroom. I hope that was ok?”
“Of course, it’s okay. I told you to make yourself at home, and I meant it.” He grabs fancy chopsticks for each of us from a drawer, which he closes it with his hip. “If there’s anything you need that isn’t already stocked, just let me know.”
I force a smile. “Great.” I don’t trust myself to say anything else becauseI went through your bathroom and found your secret stash of kinky sex toysis just on the tip of my tongue.
Sam takes my plate from me and carries it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. I awkwardly follow and take a seat.
“I thought we could eat in here tonight and talk about the construction plans.” He goes back into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Kombucha?” He holds up a couple of bottles.
“Yes, please.” After shoving some kind of fried roll in my mouth, my eyes roll back in my head, and I moan.
“Looks like the sushi’s a hit.” He laughs as he sets our drinks down on the coasters.
