The Summer I Said Yes

by Tess Harper

  “God, I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

  “I know,” Sophie beamed, “isn’t it exciting!?”

  I looked at the text.

  I smiled. “He said he had a really great day at the museum.”

  “Aww,” Sophie sighed, “that’s really cute.”

  I smiled for a moment longer, then panicked.

  “OMG Sophie what do I say? What do I say?” I pleaded.

  “Um,” she started, “you should say ‘Hey baby, I had a great time too, wanna come over and make some real art?’”

  Sophie laughed.

  “Sophie that’s stupid.”

  “No,” she giggled, “but you gotta say something sexy. You’ve got to catch his attention.”

  “Sophie he’s not like that. I can’t just send him text messages like that.”

  “Alright, then you should tell him you want to see him again.”

  “No,” I whined, “I can’t say that, that’s too forward.”

  I thought for a moment.

  “I’m gonna say, ‘Hey :) I had a really great time too.”

  I sent the message.

  “Emily! You can’t send a smiley face to a guy.”

  “What do you mean? Why can’t I?”

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, “you don’t know anything.”

  “Shit. Did I screw up?”

  “It’s okay. I’ll see what I can do, we’ll see what happens. I might have to do some damage control.”

  “Damage control?!” I felt all of the blood leave my face.

  “Smiley’s are so 2000 Emily. No one flirts with emoticons.”

  “But I always send smileys in my texts.”

  “Yeah, with girlfriends. Not with guys you want to bang.”

  “Sophie!”

  “I’m just sayin…” she trailed off.

  I stood staring at my phone.

  “Oh god, what if he doesn’t text me back?”

  “He’s gonna text you back Emily,” Sophie reassured, “he texted you first.”

  “But what if the smiley did screw everything up? I feel like such an idiot.”

  I put my phone down on the coffee table and sunk into the couch, crossing my arms and feeling pathetic. I sniffed the air.

  “Mmm, something smells good…” I perked up, “what are you cooking?”

  “Oh!” Sophie said excitedly, “we’re gonna do Asian Night!”

  “Oh yay! I love Asian Night! Especially with a chocolate cake appetizer.”

  I looked back to the coffee table and saw my phone.

  “Ughh,” I whined hopelessly, “he’s never going to text me back!”

  “Okay, you need to chill out Emily. Come in the kitchen and try a won-ton.”

  “Alright.”

  I followed Sophie into the kitchen. It smelled amazing. She had pans full of won-tons with homemade wrappings and dumplings. She’d made a sweet and sour soup and fried rice crinkle things. And she’d made an Asian dressing for our salad with mandarin oranges and more rice crinkle things. I tried a won-ton.

  “Mmm, Soph, this is amazing!”

  “Thanks,” she curtsied, “my boss wanted me to try switching things up. He told me to try experimenting with some Asian style dishes.”

  “Well, these won-tons are killer. You’re gonna do great.” I smiled.

  “Aw, thanks roomie. Tender moment!” She giggled.

  Buzz. I heard my phone go off in the living room. I tripped over my feet…and the counter, trying to get to my phone, but I caught myself before I hit the floor. Sophie was right at my heels. I grabbed to my phone. Sophie’s head was over my shoulder. We opened the message. It was a smiley.

  “Oh my God!” I squeaked “he sent back a smiley!!”

  “Eeeee!!” I squealed and did my happy-spazzy-flailing dance.

  Sophie rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, at least we know he’s obviously into you.”

  I kept doing my happy-spazzy dance.

  “OMG OMG this is so exciting!” I said smiling.

  But then horror struck me.

  “Oh shit, Sophie, what am I going to say?”

  I racked my brain for ideas.

  “Yes! I’ve got it!” I squeaked excitedly, “I know just what to do!”

  Sophie looked at me puzzled.

  “I’m gonna send him two smiley’s!!” I beamed in satisfaction.

  Sophie grabbed the phone out of my hand. “Hell no you won’t.”

  “What? I thought it was a good idea?”

  “No. Emily, this is your chance, the ball is in your court. You need to do something. He’s obviously shown you that he’s interested and he’s wanting to see where you’re standing. Guys love a girl on top.”

  I pinked.

  “Guys love a girl who makes the first move,” she reiterated.

  My cheeks pinked pinker. “But I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t even know how to make the second move!”

  Sophie smirked. “Don’t worry girl, you’re talking to a pro.”

  “Alright, Sophie not everyone has your killer confidence and killer bod and can get away with being like ‘I want you’ to a guy and have him fall all over you. And I definitely can’t do that.”

  “Yes you can Emily.”

  “No I can’t,” I whined helplessly, “I’m just the girl who sends smiley faces.”

  “Emily! You are not just a girl who sends smiley faces! Pull yourself together!”

  I took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. After a few seconds, I looked up at Sophie. “Okay…so…should I ask him out?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Um…should I tell him he’s really hot?”

  She shook her head no again.

  “Well fuck. Sophie! What am I supposed to do? Tell me. Help me out here. You’re supposed to be the pro!”

  She looked at the phone, then back at me. “You need to do some dirty texting.”

  Dirty texting? “Like Sexting?!” I shrieked.

  Sophie nodded. “Hell yeah that’s what I’m talking about.

  I shot up. “I think you mean hell no! I don’t know how to do that. Besides, Peter is not that kind of guy.”

  “Emily, every guy is that kind of guy.”

  “Sophie you are so delusional. Peter is not that kind of guy, he’s—”

  “Then we’ll start off slow.”

  I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and sat back down. “Slow,” I repeated.

  “Yep. Slow. I think you should say: your butt looked cute in those—”

  “What?” I interrupted.

  Sophie interrupted before I could tell her a million reasons why I could never sext Peter, “Your butt looked cute in those—”

  Horrified at what Sophie was about to say and pissed that she had cut me off and taken my phone, I snatched it back from her.

  “—Fine!” I said defiantly, “If you think I need to do some dirty sexting, then I’m gonna do some damn good dirty sexting!”

  I sat down, took a deep breath and got ready. I put my fingers on the screen and started tapping out the sext:

  I want you.

  I exhaled and took another deep breath. Ok, good job Emily. What next?

  You looked really good today.

  Ok, doing great. Psh! And you thought this was going to be hard.

  Seeing your buttons undone made me want to reach up and unbutton the rest of them.

  Keep breathing.

  And your taupe khaki’s brought out the hunger in your eyes ;)

  “Okay, Sophie I think I’ve got it.”

  She looked at me. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot.

  “Yeah, about damn time! Alright, spit it out.”

  I read her the text message, “…brought out the hunger in your eyes, winky face.”

  Sophie smiled.

  Yes! She loved it. I hit send.

  Then Sophie started laughing.

  “That has
to be the saddest most pathetic sext I’ve ever heard in my life Emily,” Sophie said laughing hysterically. “Here, give me the phone. I’ll write it for you.” She smiled extending her hand toward me.

  Oh. Shit. My stomach did a flip. And then it dropped to the deep, dark, abyss of the ocean where that old lady’s jewel is that Leonardo DiCaprio couldn’t find.

  “Uh…fuck…” I said out loud.

  Sophie looked at me. Her smile fell.

  “You didn’t send that did you?”

  I looked up sheepishly.

  “Guilty.”

  “Oh my God Emily…Oh…” Sophie started laughing.

  And I started laughing because I was embarrassed and didn’t know what to do.

  “Okay. I’m sorry girl,” Sophie started, “I don’t know if I can help you out of this one. That was just—you might be too far gone—I don’t think damage control can fix this.”

  “Oh no…” I sighed.

  My face got hot. I was pinking. Sophie looked at me.

  “Emily you’re pinking.”

  “And I’m getting sweaty!” I whined.

  I started lifting up my shirt, airing out my chest.

  “I think I’m going to have a heart attack!”

  “Emily, breath!”

  “I totally fucked this up! This is so awful!”

  “Emily, breath. It’s going to be Okay. He’s just probably not going to text you back, or ever ever again. And he’s never going to call you. And he’s never going to hold your body, and kiss you tenderly. And you’re never going to touch his hot, sexy, strong, muscular frame with that perfectly tousled hair and Brad Pitt smile ever ever again. It’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s over.”

  “Nooooooo!!!” I screamed on the couch. I threw my hands over my face in despair.

  “Why am I so incompetent?! I seriously have the boy sense of an 11 year old? It’s so depressing!”

  Sophie sat by my head and started rubbing my forehead, “It’s okay Em. True Godly-like perfection is not meant for every girl.”

  “You’re not helping Sophie!!” I pouted.

  She laughed, “You’ll learn.”

  “UGH!!!” I groaned frustradedly, “but why did I have to learn this with Peter? With the most amazing dream like guy on the face of the earth?!”

  I sat up and turned to Sophie, “You knew I wasn’t ready for this! Why the hell did you let me hold the phone? You’re supposed to be in charge of this stuff, not me!”

  I glared at Sophie for letting me make a fool of myself. I opened my mouth to complain some more about how she’d let me down, but I heard my phone go off.

  Ding.

  Both of our eyes shot to the coffee table. We looked back at each other. Sophie’s mouthed the letters O M G. I sat up straight and regained my composure, taking a deep breath.

  “It’s Peter!!!” I breathed excitedly to Sophie.

  “No shit Em,” Sophie laughed, “who else would it be, your mom?”

  I laughed, “That’d be embarrassing.”

  I reached for my phone opening the text.

  “What the fuck?! It is from my mom!” I wailed.

  Sophie started laughing hysterically, “No freaking way! What’d she say?”

  “She’s just telling me that she’s going to Bermuda for a week with her new Cuban boyfriend.”

  Sophie mouthed the word, Nice.

  I tossed my phone back onto the coffee table and sank into the couch.

  “My world is over. I seriously don’t want to live anymore.” I sighed. “I blow it with the most incredible guy I’m ever going to be lucky enough to meet and my mom—my freaking mom!—is running away to Bermuda with some Cuban man-toy she met?”

  “Damn, that’s rough.” Sophie smiled.

  “Jesus, my freaking mom has better game than me. My 58 year old mother!”

  I closed my eyes and tried to breath, but I could just feel my heart crumbling.

  My phone went off again. Ding.

  My heart fluttered and a glimmer of hope shot through me. Could it be Peter? I scrambled for my phone once more and opened the text.

  “What the hell? It’s from my mom again!” (original version: “God damnit it’s from my mom again! What the hell does she want?”)

  Sophie coughed in a lame attempt to stifle her giggle.

  “What does she want now?” I groaned.

  Sophie grabbed the phone from me and looked at the message.

  “She sent you a picture!” Sophie said excitedly. “It’s of her and Ricardo.” She smiled.

  I grabbed the phone, “Give me that!”

  I looked at the picture and saw a dark, handsome Cuban man smiling and standing next to my tiny, petite mother. She was giving the camera a thumbs-up, and a winky face, and pointing with her other hand to Ricardo.

  “Ew.” I said pushing my phone away from me, “my mom is so embarrassing.”

  Sophie grabbed my phone and looked at the picture again.

  “I love your mom. I think she’s great.”

  “Yeah, that’s because she’s not your mom Sophie, she’s mine.” I groaned, “You don’t have to live with her.”

  I stood up and walked to the kitchen. “I need some food therapy. This has officially become the shittiest night ever.”

  I picked up a won-ton and shoved it in my mouth.

  Still chewing, “I fink I’m gomma jus eat until I burst.” I swallowed and picked up another won-ton, eyeing it adoringly, “and then I’m gonna grab my keys and run down to the corner market and buy a pint of ice cream.”

  I popped the won-ton in my mouth, “An ven I’m gomma com back howm,” I swallowed. “And watch A Walk To Remember.”

  I popped a third won-ton into my mouth and chewed thinking of how depressing my life had become.

  “Emily,” Sophie laughed, “you are so dramatic.”

  I heard my phone go off in the living room again. Ding.

  “If it’s my mom, tell her to keep her happy, sexy, Ricardo vacation thoughts to herself.” I called from the kitchen.

  I plopped another won-ton into my mouth. Damn Soph, these are seriously good.

  “Emily?” Sophie’s voice called out.

  “What?” I called back. “I’m serious, if she sent me another embarrassing picture, I truly don’t want to see it.”

  “No Em, I really think you’re gonna want to come here.”

  I tuned my head slowly…does she mean what I think she means? Could he have texted me back?

  I sprinted into the other room. “Is it Peter? What did he say? Wait!” I paused, “Is it from Peter?” I looked at her hopefully.

  She handed me the phone. I opened the text. It was from Peter.

  I read the message to myself. And then I read it again.

  The only thing hungrier than my eyes were my pants.

  If you like buttons, I’ve got a shirt with twice as many of them.

  When I saw your lips drinking your coffee today I wanted to be your cup ;)

  I was silent.

  Sophie looked at me expectantly. “What did he say?”

  I was speechless.

  “Emily you have to tell me what he said. What did he say!?”

  Still in a daze, I tossed my phone to Sophie.

  I saw her lips mouth the words silently she was reading in her head. She paused at the end of the text and looked up at me.

  She grimaced, “Winky face?”

  I was beaming.

  “He likes me! Sophie, he really likes me!!!” I squealed jumping up and down doing my spazzy-happy dance.

  Sophie looked like she was going to be sick. “This is the most mortifyingly horrible text I’ve ever read in my life. It makes me want to throw up all over puppies—adorable, fuzzy, Labrador puppies.”

  I stopped dancing. “Oh crap. Wait—” I looked up at Sophie, “what do I say back?”