Page 33 of A Very Snowed In New Year

Page List

Font:

Font Size:

My Backroom chats with Holden have been sporadic since I got to New York but pretty flirtatious. I get this tingly thrill every time he texts me back, and then I remember he thinks I’m Shay and I kind of pull away. And then he’ll text me just to make sure I’m still into him, probably. Because guys really do like it when they have to chase you, I guess.

Still, there’s something very satisfying about texting Holden as Shay. There’s no real fear of rejection. I can share a side of myself that I probably wouldn’t if I were texting him as me—at least not this early on in the textual relationship. This Backroom space holds some kind of magic. The app is like a portal to another dimension where my soul can mingle with Holden Archer’s. The romantic in me kind of loves the idea of never actually meeting him. It’s like living in the moment right before two people’s lips touch when they kiss.

The virgin in me wants to hold out for Holden for my First Time—because I’ve waited this long, why not wait for Holden Archer? But also…I can’t wait forever. And it already feels like I’ve been waiting forever.

I sent Holden a Backroom text, as Shay, wishing him a merry Christmas a little while ago, and he wrote backYou too.And that’s it. It’s a little weird. But also fine. Like I said, I would not be heartbroken if he ends up rejecting me as Shay. I might be heartbroken if the opposite happens, even though it’s been my job to make the opposite happen.

Quick Fix for a Car That Won’t Start in the Morning: Real Causes and Practical Solutions

How to Deal With Overheating While Driving: Expert Tips and Technical Fixes

How to Jump-Start Your Car in 5 Easy Steps – A Complete Expert’s Guide

Step-by-Step Guide to Cleaning Your Car’s Engine Bay Like a Pro

I take a seat in one of the folding chairs and pull my laptop out of my backpack. No one is more shocked than me that Iwould rather open up my PiperThanFiction Gmail account than focus onLove Actuallyfor the twentieth time, but here we are. I scan the last email chain with Journal Guy, about to email him again when I get a new message request in Google Chat.

From Journal Guy!

I gasp so loudly my dad looks over from the sofa. “Everythin’ okay, sweet pea?”

“Yes! Yes. Just an email from a friend.”

My heart is racing even faster than the first time I saw Colin Firth and the Portuguese lady jump into the lake to retrieve Colin Firth’s manuscript pages.

I count to ten, very quickly, before accepting the chat invitation.

JOURNAL GUY:Hey. I was just about to email you, but I figured this would be easier.

ME:Hey! I was just about to email you too, actually. I was wondering if you ended up getting your sister more presents.

JOURNAL GUY:I got her what you recommended, and she loved them. Thanks again. What are you up to?

ME:I’m at my great aunt’s house on Staten Island with my fam. We just started watching Love Actually, even though I campaigned for You’ve Got Mail. But Love Actually has become kind of a tradition.

JOURNAL GUY:Yeah. The worst kind of tradition, like hazing.

ME:Oh boy. Another one.

JOURNAL GUY:Another what?

ME:Another male human who hates Love Actually.

JOURNAL GUY:Pretty unoriginal, huh? To be clear, I don’t only hate Love Actually. I also detest all romantic comedies. So many coincidences. Always so illogical. Meg Ryan goes to meetthe guy she’s been emailing with, but she doesn’t even know his name? Please. Tom Hanks never wonders if the lady he saw at the airport who almost got hit by a car right in front of his house the next day was some psycho stalker? Even though he specifically states that Fatal Attraction scared the crap out of him? And we’re supposed to buy this because there’s an upbeat jazz standard playing under everything?

ME:Well, we’re supposed to buy it because they’re rom-coms. Nobody’s trying to sell them as documentaries.