Page 67 of I Can't Help It

Me: I don’t text just anyone when I can’t sleep.

Luke: Neither do I.

We don’t say anything else for a few moments, but I know we both need to get some sleep before having another day of activities, so I’m the one who reluctantly puts an end to our little text conversation.

Me: I guess we should try to fall asleep again.

And to soften the blow, I send a see–no-evil monkey emoji along with the text.

Luke: Yeah, I guess you’re right.

Luke: The sooner I fall asleep, the sooner I get to see you.

Luke: (And if that was too cringey, we’re blaming the insomnia).

It was cringey…but I loved it anyway.

Me: It was perfect.

You’re perfect.

He’s sooooooo perfect.

Me: Sweet dreams, Luke.

Luke: You too, Ava.

BUT I WANT TO BE SELFISH

Luke

Before I dropped Ava off at her room last night, we agreed to meet this morning at 8:30 for breakfast, but it’s almost nine and I haven’t seen or heard from her yet. Plus, our pottery class starts in forty-five minutes.

I texted her a little bit ago, just to make sure she’s okay, but it doesn’t show that she read the message. And even though this isn’t a date, it’s starting to feel like I’ve been stood up.

Should I go back upstairs to check on her?

You don’t want to look desperate.

I’m sure she was already thinking that about me when we were texting last night because I know my texting game isn’t the strongest…

While I’m still trying to decide what to do, a familiar scent captures my attention, and I can feel my shoulders relaxing before I even see Ava. I haven’t been able to figure out what the fruity and fresh smell is, but I do know that it’s addicting as heck.

“I am SO sorry!” she apologizes, coming from behind me. “I set an alarm to be awake on time and I accidentally slept through it.”

She says something else, but I’m too distracted by her presence to focus on what she’s telling me. Her hair is up in a clip again.

“You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

Did she decide on the hairstyle because of what I told her the other night?

“I was going to straighten my hair, but I didn’t want to make you wait even longer,” Ava continues to speak as she sits across from me. “So, I just threw it up really quick.”

Apparently, not.

I stand by my statement though. She does always look beautiful.

It should be impossible, and yet here she is as living proof.

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