Page 19 of More Than Chemical
“Sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay.”
He started off again, but slower this time so we could walk side by side. I glanced at him and had a thought. He might be somewhat of an awkward type, but he was male. He might have perspective.
“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Let’s say you put your number in a girl’s phone. Why would you do that?”
“Is she my sister?” His tone had changed.
“No. Just a girl. Maybe she’s in class with you. You might have met her at a party. Why would you put your number in her phone?”
“It seems pretty obvious to me. I’d want her to text me.”
“So, you’re probably into her?”
“Probably.”
I rubbed my brow. “Do you think she should do it?”
“Do what?”
“Should she text you?”
He shrugged. “If she’s interested in me, why not?”
And there were the words I’d been in search of for days. The campus security guard had confirmed exactly what I’d been thinking. There was no harm. Nothing could possibly be wrong with having coffee with Dallas.
He dropped me off at the front door of my building.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said. “It’s greatly appreciated.”
“Sure.” A dopey grin spread across his face. “No problem.”
With renewed giddiness, I opened a new text message on my phone, inserted Dallas’s number, and began to type while I walked the darkened hall past the closed dining room.
Hey, how about that coffee?
I pressed send before I could think about it. Before I hesitated and deleted the message. My heart soared higher than all four stories of the building.
At the bottom of the stairwell, I stopped and glanced at my phone. It said my message had been read. No going back now. So I waited for his answer.
But nothing happened. One minute went by. My phone went dark. I woke it up. Two minutes. It did it again. I shut my eyes and groaned. What had I done?
I took the stairs two at a time. My heart was no longer flying, it was racing.
I fumbled with my key. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have texted him. He might never respond. It was a moment of weakness. I’d stuck myself out there, and I couldn’t take it back.
Stupid security guard.
Inside, I swung my jacket around the back of my desk chair, changed into my pajamas, and crawled into my bed. I pulled the periodic table blanket over my head.
My heart was still pounding. I breathed in and out, trying to make it stop. I loathed myself. For being unable to stop thinking about Dallas. For wanting to have sex at all. I curled onto my side and burrowed deeper into my bedding.
Adingcame from my jacket.
