Page 36 of Joy to Noel
Has unrealistic expectations.
Annoyingly perfectionistic.
Quick to judge.
The disappointing part is that, at least for a few days, itseemedlike Liam was hanging with me. Dishing out just as much as I did—and enjoying it as much as I did.
But either my initial assessment was all wrong, or he moved on to more important things.
Either way, I’ve been matching his distanced vibes, at least until our conversation last night—when he confessed that his mom is a Shakespeare expert, he has a little sister, and he grew up in small-town Arkansas. And now, I have a zillion curiosities about Liam Park’s life. I might literally go insane if he keeps withdrawing and never gives me answers. Alas, what’s visible in the cabin gives me zero new clues.
I decide to send a slightly probing text. First, I send a photo of Hamlet by his food dish.
ME
The devil eats.
SUITS
You’re being a touch dramatic.
ME
Your evil companion is the dramatic one. I have the minor heart attack to prove it.
Just showing that I followed through on my end of the bargain. If there’s any other personal information you’d like to divulge, I could be convinced to stay and shine a laser pointer around to keep Hamlet entertained.
SUITS
I’d advise against that idea. It’s unlikely to end well for you - Hamlet sees right through laser pointer nonsense. He’ll only look at you like you’re an idiot.
ME
Like that’s a break from his typical expression.
As if he could sense our text conversation, Hamlet looks over at me with a death glare.
SUITS
Also, nice try with the prying. But that’s not going to work - you should put your energy toward something more productive.
ME
I’m nothing if not determined. Just you wait - I’ll catch you with your guard down sometime and learn all about the girl who broke your heart in high school.
SUITS
Good luck learning about something that never existed.
ME
So no high school heartbreak.
SUITS
Goodnight, MJ. Thanks for taking care of Hamlet.
