by Tucker, RH
I can’t help the warmth that spreads inside. Or the smile floating across my lips. I’m physically unable to stop it. He wants to talk. I realize that this could be the best thing possible. Do I like him? Maybe. But I don’t have to see him. I don’t have to try to be all flirty or play games. I can talk to him and do it through text. Yeah, some things get lost in translation with text messages, but for the most part, I can get to know him. And he can get to know me.
Emerald22: I’d like that :)
Chapter 9
Carter
I must look like an idiot as I’m driving home. I’m beaming. Absolutely beaming. I was so nervous before I sent the message about just talking. I have no idea who she is, what she looks like or sounds like. I don’t know if she’s tall or short. Is she curvy or stick thin? I have no freaking clue but exchanging the texts with her has lit something inside. I’d never thought I’d try getting to know someone without knowing what they looked like. Maybe this will be a good thing. And the way she comes across in her text messages, she seems like she’s cool.
After texting a little more, we set some ground rules. We aren't exchanging names, first of all. We can talk about our classes, but we aren't going to tell each other what period the class is, so we'll still have no idea when each other will be there. Also, we'll only do text messages. Prohibiting phone calls means we won't know what the other one sounds like.
The more rules we put down, the more I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm going to have to tell Matt about this, but I'm not sure how the others will react. Jeremy will bust my balls for sure, especially with Sarah always hanging over me. I push the thought from my mind because this is something entirely different. I can use something different.
I'm about to tell her I have to go because of my basketball game when I think better of it. She might be able to narrow down who I am if I tell her I'm on the team. I decide just to say I have to go, but I'll text her later.
When I get back to the gym, my mood has done a one-eighty, and Matt notices right away.
“Someone’s feeling better,” he says, as we change into our uniforms.
“I told you. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, right. Something was bothering you earlier.” He stares at me for a minute, letting his words hang in the air.
I look around the locker room, then back at Matt. “Okay, yeah, something was up. But it’s cool now. I’m good.”
“What was it?”
Matt’s my best friend. He has been for four years. If I had to guess which of my friends wouldn’t make a big deal out of what I’m doing, it would be him. But I’m not ready to tell him yet.
“It’s … complicated.”
“Dude, come on.” He gives me a pleading look.
“I’ll tell you, but not right now. It’s …” I think about it. Is it weird? I guess it is, but it’s also interesting. Different. “Unconventional.”
Matt raises an eyebrow. “Dude, are you–” he looks around at the locker room and then back at me, mouthing the word gay.
“What?” I scrunch my nose at him.
"I mean, it's cool if you are. I would never have guessed it. Though, now all the avoiding Sarah thing makes more sense."
“Dude, I’m not gay,” I say a little too loud and a teammate behind us, Franco, starts snickering. “Shut up, Franco.”
“Whatever,” he mumbles, continuing to laugh.
“Anyways.” I look back at Matt. “No, I’m not gay. And I’ve been ducking Sarah, because I’m over that, especially after that fiasco at homecoming. No, this new thing is different, that’s all.”
"Okay, you're way too secretive here. You gotta tell me."
"I will." I stand up, tucking in my jersey. "Later."
“Okay, boys.” Coach comes into the locker room and gathers us all around.
He goes on about remembering to stick to our game plan, which players to keep an eye out for, and everything that he usually goes over. Oceanview High School isn't a great team, but that doesn't mean they're going to be easy to beat. Our basketball team hasn't made the playoffs in three years. But this year we've started out okay and have only lost to one team in our division, so we're hoping to keep up the strong play and shoot for the playoffs this year. Of course, that was the first half of the season, and in the second half, we have harder teams we were going to be facing.
By the time we get courtside, we’re all riled up and ready for the game. Our basketball team isn’t as good as our lacrosse team, and definitely not as good as our baseball team, and the crowd makes that obvious. We have some students in the stands, along with parents, and a few others, but it’s far from a ruckus crowd.
We get off to a hot start, and we're moving the ball around pretty good. By the end of the first quarter, we're up by seven points. Things get better in the second quarter, when we nearly double our score, and keep Oceanview to only nine points, increasing our lead by seventeen.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Jeremy shouts as we make our way to the locker room for halftime.
"Don't get cocky," I say, as he slings his arm over my shoulder.
“Dude, we got this!”
“No, Dixon’s right,” Coach says, stepping in front of us. “You’re playing solid defense. Moving the ball around great, but don’t let up. You may have a big lead now, but if you mess around, they will come back on us.”
Coach goes over a few plays we'll be running to start the third quarter before he head out back to the court. Things start out good, scoring a quick six points, but Oceanview begins mount come back.
Lucas drives to the hoop, trying to split between two defenders, but has the ball stolen. Jeremy chases them down, but he isn’t fast enough. Instead of letting the guy score, Jeremy fouls him, sending him to the free-throw line. They add another point, and now our seventeen-point lead is only a nine-point lead.
Coach calls a timeout, drawing up a play, as we prepare to get the ball back.
“You’re on your last foul,” I call over to Jeremy.
“I got this.” He ignores me, getting the ball from the referee to toss it in.
Throwing it to Lucas, he takes the ball down the court. He passes the ball to Matt, who drives to the basket. Jeremy steps to the side to throw a block for him but isn't in position in time. Instead, Jeremy grabs the defender's arm, pulling him down. A whistle blows and the referee motions, calling a foul on Jeremy.
“That’s bullshit!” Jeremy yells at the official.
“Calm down, man,” Lucas says, running over to him.
Over the PA system, the announcers for the game relate to the crowd it’s Jeremy’s sixth foul, which puts him out of the game.
He's still complaining, while Lucas tries to move him off the court.
“Damn it,” I grunt, walking over to him.
“That’s a shit call, man.”
“You grabbed the guy’s arm. It was blatant.”
"Whatever." He blows me off, waving a hand in my face as our coach comes over.
"Hopkins, you're in," he says.
The rest of the quarter is tight. Oceanview gets the ball back after the foul and outscores us for the next five minutes, cutting down our lead to three points. With ten seconds left in the game I hit a three-pointer and bump our lead back up to six points, before the buzzer rings, ending the game.
Back in the locker room, the coach says a few things about the game, tells us good job and lets us shower.
“Way to go out there.” I shoot Jeremy a sarcastic look.
“Whatever.” He pulls off his jersey. “We won, didn’t we?”
“If that was another team, we might not have.”
“Okay, guys,” Matt says next to me.
Jeremy raises us his hands, looking around at everyone. “Okay, my bad. My bad.” Looking back at me, he gives me a cocky grin. “Maybe I should’ve gotten whatever you took to turn your shooting around from this afternoon.”
“What?”
“What was it? Sarah come over and blow y
ou. Or you rub one out?”
“Screw you.” I scowl at him as laughs.
It's times like these I wonder why I'm even friends with the guy. Sometimes he can be an absolute ass, and it's hard to remember why we're even friends at all. Honestly, I think we're only friends because we're in the same school and on the same team.
My mom greets me from the living room when I get back home that night. She usually works until seven or eight, so she doesn’t get to attend many of the games.
“How was the game?” she asks.
“It was good. We won.”
“That’s great.” She smiles at me. “Hopefully, I can make your next home game.”
“Yeah, that’d be cool. Hey, I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Okay, g’night, honey.”
“Night, Ma.”
Lying in bed, my usual nightly habit is scrolling through Instagram or Twitter. But tonight, I’m anxious. Even though I sent the last text, telling her I had to go for a bit, I wonder if she texted me back. Or maybe sometime during the game.
Turning on my phone, I see no new alerts and frown a little. But we did talk a lot during that hour earlier. I wonder if I should send her a text. Is it too late? Would she be asleep? Why would I text her this late? What would we talk about? I close my eyes, letting out a long sigh. I can’t believe I’m acting like this over a girl I haven’t even met.
BigBaller27: You awake?
I drop the phone to my chest, wondering if she's asleep or if she'll reply. Closing my eyes, I try to calm my nerves. Even if she's sleeping, she'll still see the text in the morning.
Emerald22: Yes :)
I know I shouldn't read anything into it, but she added a smiley face. She could've typed yes and waited for my response, but she didn't.
BigBaller27: I’m about to go to sleep.
Emerald22: Oh, ok.
BigBaller27: Just wanted to say goodnight :)
My chest tightens as I wait for a reply. Was that too much? Was it too soon? It’s like a first kiss, I guess. You don’t want to try and make out with the girl the first time you guys talk, but what if you wait too long? Then you lend yourself over to possibly being in the friend zone. What am I saying, friend zone? She technically isn't even my friend. She's a texting buddy. But still … there's something about the way we've texted so far.
Emerald22: Thx. Sweet dreams ;)
Chapter 10
Emma
The moment my eyes open I reach for my phone. A small frown curves over my lips, as I see no new texts. Then I remember about last night and smile. He texted me to say goodnight. It was the sweetest thing ever! There was a small part of me nervous about telling him sweet dreams, but only a little. I debated with myself right after I sent it, thinking it might've been a little much, but he initiated the goodnight. Sweet dreams was a proper response.
The smile doesn't leave my face the entire morning. When I get into Jen's car, she looks at me confused, sipping a Frappuccino.
“Wow, what’s got you all frenetic?”
My eyes dart over to her, as she hands me a drink she got me. The smile’s still on my lips as I sip my mocha frapp’. Opening my text messages, I show her the screen.
“He texted me last night to say goodnight.”
Jen’s mouth drops open as she grabs my phone and stares at it. “Oh, that is too cute!” She starts scrolling through my messages. “Holy hell, Emma. How much did you text yesterday?”
"I know." I take my phone back. "We messaged each other for, like, a whole hour, before he had to go do something. We kind of set up some ground rules for our …" I look at my phone, debating on the right word. "Situation."
“Ground rules, huh?” She takes another sip of her drink and pulls out onto the road. “Explain.”
I go over everything that we covered, and by the time we pull into the student parking lot, I'm almost bouncing up and down on her seat.
“Next time, I’m getting you decaf.” She smirks at me.
My phone chimes.
BigBaller27: Morning ;)
My mouth drops and the warmth I was feeling yesterday as we exchanged messages is back, starting in my chest, spreading out through my entire body. Jen looks at me and then at my phone.
"A good night and a good morning text? Okay, if this guy is hot, then you better find out who he is stat!"
I giggle as I get out of the car and make my way to first period.
And that's how it goes for the rest of the week. I try to contain my excitement, but it's difficult. He'll text me a random, annoying thing one of his teachers did, and I'll laugh. I'll text him, asking what I should get for lunch, and he'll suggest something. That's how I find out we both like Pepsi.
As the week passes, I start to wonder more and more who he is and what he looks like. Does he play sports, or is he all about studying? Is he overweight? Would I mind that? I shake my head whenever thoughts like those start entering my brain because the more time passes, the more I realize, I'm starting to like this guy. And like him for who he is on the inside, learning about his likes and dislikes. Not some outer, physical appearance. This isn't a typical, high school relationship forming, where the homecoming king is dating the popular cheerleader girl. This is something more. Something real.
BigBaller27: U know, if we knew each other, I’d invite you to a beach party I’m getting dragged to this weekend.
I'm blushing brighter than a tomato for two reasons. First, he's talking about inviting me out somewhere. Like a date. Like an actual, real-life date. I hadn't thought about something like that since my epic-fail of being able to put words together with Paxton. But secondly, and more distressingly, I believe, is that he's throwing it out there. Meeting. I wasn't sure if he'd bring it up again, when I freaked out the first time, and remembering how I reacted is not helping anything. It's not exactly like he's bringing it up again, so maybe he didn't even mean anything by it, or perhaps he's just, like, trying to feel the waters out, or maybe he's just … Breathe. Just, breathe, Emma.
I put my phone in my pocket and stare at my sandwich.
“Okay, that’s it,” Lana says, eyeing me suspiciously.
“What?” My eyes shoot up to her.
“You’ve been acting funny all week. What gives?”
I snort out a laugh as I look over at Jen, who just raises her eyebrows. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, right,” Micah says. “We noticed it Wednesday but didn’t say anything. And yesterday your eyes were glued to your phone for almost the entire lunch.”
“No, they weren’t.”
“They kinda were,” Jen says. My mouth hangs open at Jen in betrayal. “Emma, it’s time.”
“What’s time?” Lana asks.
“No, Jen, it’s not. It’s only been a week.”
“What’s been a week?” Micah raises his voice.
“Nothing.” I wrinkle my nose, looking down at my sandwich.
“Yes, something,” Jen counters. “A lot can happen in a week. Hell, a lot has happened in a week.”
“Are you guys gonna tell us what’s going on?” Lana exasperates.
“Emma’s got a boyfriend.”
“What?” Lana and Micah both shout, almost both in the same high pitch.
“I do not.”
“No?” She gives me an evil smirk. “Okay, I’m sorry. He’s not your boyfriend. You just talk to him about everything, always exchanging texts and you tell each other goodnight and good morning.”
“That sounds like boyfriend stuff to me.” Lana eyes me.
“No, he’s—” My words cut off.
I never thought about it the way Jen says it but is that what's happened? Has he become my boyfriend? How can a guy become your boyfriend if you don't even know his name? Or what he looks like? And if you haven't even kissed?
“No,” I say again, trying to find my confidence. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
As if on cue, my phone chimes.
BigBaller27: Hey, no worries, though
. OK? I was just thinking out loud. Or in this case, thru text ;P
Of course, he’d add that. I already freaked out on him once before. But even the small embarrassment of how I acted before, is soothed by warmth, as I read how he’s trying to be considerate. He really does seem like a great guy.
"Is that him?" Lana asks this time more intrigue in her voice.
“Yes.” I blush.
“Emma!” Micah smiles. “This is awesome. Who is he?”
“Yeah, Emma. Who is he?” Jen teases. Lana and Micah look at her strangely.
“Wait a second. Jen, you said it first. How do you not know who he is?”
Jen doesn’t say anything. She just shoots a look at me, waiting for me to spill the beans. Micah and Lana’s faces turn toward me, waiting for my response. I drop my head to the table in defeat.
“I don’t actually know him,” I mutter.
“Wait, what?” Micah says. “You don’t know him?”
"You said you've been texting every day," Lana says.
"We have," I answer, my face still on the table. "But … we don't know each other. I don't know his name, and he doesn't know mine."
“I don’t understand.” Micah drops his head onto his fist, staring at me.
“It’s a long story.” I finally look up at them, not wanting to go over it but everyone’s eyes, including Jen’s, are locked on me.
So, I explain what happened with the wrong number text message and how everything escalated from there. I go over the goodnight/good morning texts, and everything we’ve been texting about since. Well, not everything, but the highlights.
“Ooh.” Lana swoons, wrapping her arms around one of Micah’s. “This is so cute. It’s like writing love letters or something. It’s so romantic.”
I’m finally able to release a smile, happy that Lana isn’t freaking out about it. She genuinely seems excited for me. I’m not sure if it’s because they know now, or I’ve given myself a chance to calm down, but I thought of the perfect reply to his text message. It’ll have to wait though, so Lana can get our girl talk out of the way.
