Page 92 of Bad Wolf

We were in a little military town, but in the city forty minutes away, there was an enormous, albeit dull, university library. I knew I had her on the line when her eyes flared. Oh yeah, she was buying it.

“I’m not springing for gas.”

“Never thought you would. So, you’re in? You come to the game and sit at the glass, and I’ll take you tomorrow straight from school?”

I wanted her there. At the game. I’d always skated a little harder when I noticed her in the stands. I felt supercharged when she watched me.

She stared at me. I searched her eyes trying to decide on a color today. The green and specks of gold were taking over.

Eventually, she sighed and nodded her head. “It’s a deal.”

“Perfect. Give me your number.”

I tried really hard not to preen at being able to wear her down so fast. Looking back, she was probably going to be at the game all along and it was her who had me on the hook.

She rattled off her digits, already bored by my interruption. She was always so cool. Didn’t seem to care that she was being chatted up by the most popular boy in her class.

Little did I know that I’d come to learn her nippy personality was just a façade, and hiding under all that faked nonchalance was the wildest, most tempestuous girl on the planet.

She was a little fireball. Obviously still is.

I stand, pulling myself from the memory, and get back to why I wanted my phone in the first place.

My hands actually shake as I bring up her name, the phone giving me the option to call or message. Dragging in a breath, I press on the message icon and the last text I ever sent her is still sitting in its grey box.

The morning before that fucking party I had watched her practically skip back up the little front path leading to her house after our breakfast at the diner. She’d slowed and turned her head, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder.

I had reached for my phone and typed the message, sending it before she’d even reached the door.

Me: I’ll never stop loving you

Why hadn’t I deleted these?

Why hadn’t I deleted her number?

Even as the quicksand-like emotions of betrayal and fury pulled me under, I still couldn’t hit that button to erase her. Four phones and two new numbers later and she was transferred over with the rest of the people I hardly ever spoke with, but kept their details all the same.

And as much as I had fought it over the years, I had kept that promise. Even when it hurt. Even when I eventually moved on with my life. She was always there. Locked away in a corner of my heart.

There’s no doubt my walks down memory lane are going to start coming thick and fast, but back to the task.

Me: Hey.

I don’t have to wait long for her reply.

Dream Girl: Hey.

Two simple words exchanged, and my heart floods with warmth.

Me: Still need feeding tonight?

Dream Girl: Italian still on the menu?

Me: Yep. Reservation booked for 7:45 p.m.

Dream Girl: See you there at 7:30 then? What’s the name of the restaurant?

Me: I’ll come pick you up

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