by Ally Hayes
Garrett—Hey!
Excited to hear from him, I stood then paced around my office while reading and replying.
Me—Hi, aren’t u at work?
Garrett—yup, bored
Me—2 bad here in the world of accounting there is never a dull moment
Garrett—I’m sure. Get any furniture deals?
Me—actually yes. Valentine’s Day special on a headboard, kind of ew but couldn’t pass up the savings
Garrett—too easy, V Day sale on a bed. Bet there were Superbowl deals on flat screen TVs
Me—Duh, of course!
Garrett—at least you have an actual bed. I spent the weekend sleeping on bottom bunk
Me—ha! Party fun?
Garrett—yeah, Grandfather is cool in a dirty-old-man way
Me—taught you everything you know?
Garrett—:)
Me—GTG, Bree is in my doorway
Garrett—ah, the Queen waits for no one
Me—LOL
Grabbing my coat from the hook behind my door gave me a chance to hide my delirious state from Bree. She didn’t even ask who I was texting with, but I would’ve lied and said it was someone from back home anyway.
Shutting out her tales of woe with thoughts of Garrett over lunch was easy. I genuinely cared about Bree, but she was getting close to whiny.
“I can’t think about my life another second. I’m driving myself nuts. What about you, anything fun to report from this weekend?”
I tried hard to keep a poker face. “Nope, unless you count buying a bed fun.”
She scooted croutons around her Styrofoam plate. “Could be if you’d talk to Connor.”
“I will,” I replied but my thoughts were now on Garrett.
“Well, you have two weeks to do it so you can bring him to my annual Superbowl party. Technically, it’s Alec’s event since the party is at his place and he started it, but of course I’m the one who organizes everything and makes the evening fabulous.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.” Walking back to our office, she resumed schooling me on the various sizes and shapes of engagement rings.
****
Wednesday was weird. The sky was a gun-metal gray, and my mood soon matched the gloominess. Connor talked with another guy about operating systems at a table in the coffee shop as if it were an actual meeting. They both had open laptops, and I felt approaching him would be awkward. As I walked toward the door, I thought I saw him lift his cup slightly off the table, but it was probably wishful thinking to believe the gesture was for my benefit.
The disappointment continued when I didn’t hear from Garrett, and my candy hearts boasted random messages. U Rock, Sizzlin’, QT, and Nice Moves meant nothing to me. I also felt a cold coming on. I had nothing stronger than ibuprofen at my apartment and thought I should stock up and prepare for whatever this stuffy nose and sore throat might turn into. After taking a basket at the drugstore’s entrance, I was once again reminded of Valentine’s Day looming.
The scene before me was far worse than the grocery store. Three full aisles and numerous displays were dedicated to the manufactured holiday. Foil-covered chocolate roses, silky heart-patterned boxer shorts, and dozens of teddy bears filled the shelves next to the cards and candy. Paper hearts even hung from the ceiling, suspended by fishing line to ensure no one missed the message. I picked out a card each and stickers for my niece and nephew even though Valentine’s Day was still three weeks away. I hoped the cards featuring cartoon characters would make buying the value pack of small candy heart boxes appear a little less pathetic. I had valentines, they were just eight years old.
Thursday was better. The sun shone despite the frigid temperature drop, and Connor and I made actual contact. He told me my coffee cup was leaking. That sucked, but it was encouraging because: a) I thought the warning showed he cared about my well-being, and b) the conversation was the longest we’d ever had. I thanked him and asked for another cup while he lifted his and whistled as he walked toward the door.
At eleven, the weekend texts began again.
Bree—Jake’s Friday?
555-3430—Yes! It’s Abbie—new phone, add me please!
Clare—welcome Abbie to the new millennium
Maggie—I can sneak out for a bit
Ethan—????
Maggie—a bit, I said
Me—looking forward to meeting the rest of you
Garrett—same here, to Andi that is
Bree—Josh? We’re almost all in
Alec—haven’t seen him at the gym this week, will find him
Bree—k, see everyone at 7
I felt upbeat having agreed to plans and meeting Garrett. My sinuses throbbing and my throat being on fire, however, did not feel so good. I ventured to the water cooler to chase more medicine, hoping to dull the pounding and scorching, and Bree saw me walk by.
Her head peeked over a gray cubical wall. “So, are you asking Connor to join us tomorrow?”
I stifled a small sneeze before answering, “Uh, I’ll try.”
“Try hard,” she said sternly, but with a smile before disappearing back behind the divider.
I couldn’t tell her I was looking forward to meeting Garrett and was still nowhere near asking Connor to hang out. I chugged my drugs and returned to my desk.
Later that night, attempting to sleep through the congestion and pain, I took the stuff one only takes when totally desperate. The green liquid. I slept right through my alarm.
At nine the next morning, Bree texted.
Bree—Are you having a nooner—or niner—with Connor?
Me—I’m dying. Can’t lift head off pillow
Bree—bummer
Me—yup. Can you explain to Bob?
Bree—will do. Check in later, sleep
Me—zzzzzzz
The sky was almost dark when I awoke next. My head felt clearer, but the pounding, mucus monster had simply moved from my head to my chest, and I felt like an elephant was sitting there.
At seven, Bree texted again to make sure I was really not going to the bar.
I called her back so she could hear my sick state and she finally relented. By eight o’clock, I heated soup and flicked through the movie channels and succumbed to a sappy romantic comedy.
An hour later, Garrett texted.
Seeing his contact appear on my screen jump-started the adrenaline rush I always experienced when hearing from him.
Garrett—how u doing?
Me—miserable, thx
Garrett—I’m close by, need anything?
Me—thx, but this is not the condition I want to meet you in
Garrett—☺you want to meet me?
Me—I meant, you know, I thought it would be tonight
Garrett—I’m teasing. I want to meet u
Me—K Me too
Garrett—get better Andressa then we’ll make a plan
Me—sounds good
I couldn’t help smiling, though my clogged sinuses made my face hurt. I actually liked him calling me Andressa. Before my recent conversations with Garrett, I couldn’t imagine accepting anyone but my parents using my full name. Now, it felt right and I wondered how his voice would sound addressing me.
Wanting to share and hear advice, I called my friend, Lizzie, back home the next day. We took turns filling each other in on events of the past weeks. I told her all about Garrett, even reading her some of the texts he sent.
“I don’t think it’s so weird, really. I think this is how relationships often begin now. People do meet this way, and I’m sure one of the other friends told him you were pretty and normal, or pretty normal at least.”
“Ha. I do hope that’s the case though.” I hesitated then spilled. “So, there’s this other problem.” I gave her a condensed version of the Cute Coffee Shop Guy, now known as Connor story.
She laughed before scolding me. “Andi, there are way worse problems to have than running into a cute guy every day or having two guys to crush on.”
“That’s the right attitude. You sound good, happy even. I wish you could’ve been happier up here, but I’m glad you’re better there.”
“It’s not that I wasn’t happy, I just wasn’t finding happiness. I finally might be, we’ll see.” All weekend, I caught up on my sleep. I drank lots of tea and depleted an entire family pack of tissues. I watched some football so I’d know what was happening next week at the big game party at Alec’s. I assumed, okay desperately hoped, Garrett and I would meet there. As much as I wanted to go on a date as he sort of suggested in our last text, I was nervous and thought meeting for the first time in a group would be more comfortable.
By Sunday night, I was feeling physically improved and emotionally optimistic. In only a couple of weeks in my new city, I’d gone from one-of-the-guys Andi, to Andressa who flirts via text with a stranger and in person with another guy.
Suddenly Secret Admirer took on a double meaning. I may have been Connor’s, but maybe Garret was mine.
Chapter Six
“Hi there.” I leaned over Connor to grab a lid and moved a little closer than necessary.
He didn’t back away.
I felt goose bumps appear where our arms brushed.
“Hey, have a good weekend?” he asked.
“Yeah, lots of fun. How about you?” I wasn’t about to tell a guy I was attracted to I’d spent the weekend hosting the snot monster.
“It was okay,” he answered with a slight shrug.
I wanted to stay there and introduce myself, but people jostled around us to get milk, sugar, and stirrers. Mondays were always crowded at the Fresh Start. The tingles of a minute earlier were replaced with annoying shoves. We both rolled our eyes at the obnoxious commuters and walked out. Still, I felt like we shared a moment, even if my new confidence stemmed from the weekend’s conversation with Garrett.
Just before opening the door of my car, I turned to catch a last glimpse. He was checking his phone with a frown and put it back in his pocket. I wondered what or who could be make him look so sad.
Back at the office, Bree and the other co-workers told me about their weekend, and I listened with jealousy. Josh didn’t show up on Friday night at the bar, so they stormed his apartment and found him licking his wounds and pints of ice cream in the wake of another break-up with Sam. Clare later told me this wasn’t the first time they had to drag him off the couch and fill him full of Margaritas and roast the unfaithful boyfriend. I wanted to be part of this loyal group of friends.
Though still not feeling my best, I trudged through the work day, microwaving soup from home for lunch instead of venturing out in the cold and wind for a salad. Guilt hit about not telling Garrett I was feeling better or thanking him for asking about me. Suddenly, I felt the confidence to initiate a conversation for the first time. I looked around the break room to make sure I was alone and selected his contact.
Me—thx for checking on me Friday. I’m better, at office & among the living
A moment later, my phone pinged.
Garrett—yay, I’m sure you’re happy to be back at work
Me—wouldn’t go that far. Going to Superbowl party?
Garrett—that’s the plan, c u there?
Me—yup, I’ll be the stranger
Garrett—I’ll find u
Me—☺
I never knew when to end a text conversation, but this one felt right. I sensed we were close now, flirting at a higher level. I liked our exchanges but was careful not to cross a line. Since we were both at work, ending it with the smiley face emoji I usually found cheesy seemed appropriate.
I treated my bold move to reach out to him by opening a new box of candy hearts and spilling them out on a paper towel.
“Oh, candy hearts! I love those.” A friendly voice filled the silence.
“Here, share the calories with me,” I told Clare.
She entered the communal room mid candy-dump. “You can’t just eat them, you have to sort first.” She removed a container from the refrigerator.
I laughed and pulled out the chair next to me, inviting her to sit. “Well, of course, come on and help me.”
We sorted by color, creating several piles, and then separated out the doubles of the same sayings. She only liked the pink ones, but for me the fun was in the meanings. At least, that’s what had happened over the last couple of weeks. “Do you have a guy?”
“We’re kind-of on again, off again.” She sighed and popped a Love Ya into her mouth. “Long distance, you know?”
“I hear you.” I scooted a pink Smile toward her in a gesture of good will.
“He says he’s coming here for Valentine’s Day, but we’ll see. I’m not holding my breath. This might be the last test, but I’ve said that before.” She stirred through her rice and vegetables, and selected a peapod. “What about you?”
“No boyfriend, but there’s a new guy I think I like. It’s still weird.”
“That’s the fun part. Here, take a First Kiss, maybe it will bring luck.”
I liked Clare, she was sweet and easy to talk to. I’d have to remember to bring her a box of hearts on Valentine’s Day. I felt badly for her, she didn’t sound too optimistic about long-distance guy.
On Tuesday, I drove straight to a client’s office to perform an audit. The review took all day and required a return visit on Wednesday to present the bad news to the CEO. I was back in the office Thursday after a coffee and a quick, “How’s it going?” exchange with Connor.
January was quickly slipping by, and I wasn’t feeling so “new girl” anymore. The comfort level at the office both professionally and socially was improving and with it my spirits. There were no plans to go out on Friday as Bree was organizing for Sunday. Clare offered going to a movie, and I agreed to meet her and Abbie. Girl-time was exactly what I thought I needed after a long week of recovering from my virus.
Garrett—Hey
Me—Hi
Garrett—sorry it’s super late
Me—no prob. Just got home from a movie w/ Clare and Abbie
Garrett—cool, I’m still out with guys from college
Me—drinking and texting?
Garrett—yup!
Me—and you thought of me, I’m honored
Garrett—I’ve only been thinking of you
Oh no. I remembered he was out drinking and it was probably harmless, uninhibited fun, so I joined his banter.
Me—what have you been thinking?
Garrett—R U sure u want 2 know?
Did I?
Me—maybe?
Garrett—I can’t wait to meet you Sunday, I’ll leave it at that
Me—k, me too
Garrett—GTG, another round of shots
Me—be careful!
Garrett—☺
I slept soundly that night, pleased with the friends I’d made and the direction the text conversations were going with Garrett.
Saturday brought a mild, yet cloudy day. I shopped for appetizer ingredients to make my contribution to Sunday’s party and stopped at a boutique for a new top and splurged on a manicure. I had it bad for Garrett and hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed when he met me in person.
I had to laugh though when the next text came in late Saturday night.
Garrett—you’ll never believe this
Me—try me
Garrett—seriously, I don’t even believe it. I have to tell the group and will switch to them in a second, but want to apologize first, Andressa
Me—for what?
Garrett—I won’t be there Sunday
Me—oh. This better be good
Garrett—I hope you think so
I saw his contact disappear and then the group one pop up.
Garrett—hi guys
Alec—dude, did you seriously drive straight to New Orleans?
Garrett—technically, no. We were too smashed, Brad hired a b
us, and we rode all day and night with massive hangovers
Bree—sounds like fun
Garrett—don’t be mad, Bree, it was a crazy spur of the moment thing, you can look for me on TV
Ethan—Superbowl! I’m so freaking jealous
Me—you’re nuts
Josh—not usually, you must’ve been coerced
Garrett—actually guys, I haven’t told you but it’s my 30th
Me—today?
Garrett—if today is Saturday, then yes
Bree—u dork, I would’ve had a party
Alec—maybe that’s why he left the state
Maggie—ouch, but Happy Birthday, Garrett
Clare—HBD
Abbie—have a blast, old man!
Me—have fun, be safe
Josh—what is going on?
Josh—oh, caught up now, wow! Have a great time!
Garrett—thx for understanding
Immediately following the group exchange, he texted me privately.
I told him he shouldn’t feel bad at all and to have a great time at the game. They hoped to buy tickets from a scalper, but would likely tailgate regardless and return by Tuesday. None of my guy friends back home would ever pull a crazy, spur-of-the-moment antic like driving to the Superbowl. I found his sense of adventure an encouraging sign he would be different from the guys I was used to.
I had a good time at the party anyway and let down my guard slightly, but I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Pulling out a candy heart that said, 2 Good 2B True didn’t help.
Chapter Seven
Even after my recent banters with Garrett, I still looked forward to seeing Connor on Monday, causing major inner-conflict. Eagerness at seeing his smiling face and hearing his cheery humming or whistling filled me. I was mainly interested in Garrett and believed I’d never get to really know Connor. Then again, I’d never seen Garrett. What if no sparks lit when we finally met? Thinking it best to keep my options open until we did meet, remaining friendly with Connor still felt worth the effort.
Before leaving the apartment, I checked my bangs in the mirror. They needed a trim—the downside to a real haircut. I retreated to my bathroom to add extra blush to combat my winter paleness before heading out to face light flurries and a long line at the coffee shop. My appearance worries were unwarranted, because he wasn’t there. I shuffled through my usual routine at the counter, my footsteps suddenly heavy.
