by Sara Ney
Grey: Okay, now I’m less concerned with my “touch of the crazy” than with your emerging violent streak and wanting to beat people’s asses.
Cal: Oh, come on. I haven’t actually punched anyone in… hours (wink). Fine. It was at last Friday’s rugby match, and he deserved it.
Grey: Oh lord, Cal…
Grey: BTW, no, I’m not wearing a skirt. I’m wearing a dress.
Cal: Well, shit.
Grey: Is that all you have to say???
Cal: No, that’s not all I have to say. What else are you wearing?
Grey: Oh, heck no, buddy ^^^ I’m not falling for one of those creepy “What are you wearing” sexting messages that lead to no good.
Cal: Shhhhhhh. Shush. Just tell me what your dress looks like so I can close my eyes for a second and visualize you sitting in a lecture hall. In a little sundress like the one you were wearing at your house?
Grey: Did you seriously SHUSH me via text???
Cal: Lol. Shush, woman! I’m not done with my visuals yet.
Grey: Wait. You noticed what I was wearing at my house?
Cal: Of course I noticed. You’re somewhat good-looking.
Grey: Cal!!! You brat.
Cal: Just stop arguing and send me a selfie.
Cal: Please.
Grey: Sigh. Fine, here. Since you asked nice.
Cal: Shit, wow. I forgot how cute you are.
Grey: Cute? Ugh, the kiss of death. Cute is for kittens and grandmas.
Cal: Well I can’t very well say you look smoke-fucking-hot, can I? That would be weird.
Cal: See? That was weird.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Crappy night
Calvin,
Can I vent to you about my crappy night last night? I don’t want to dump on you, but… Sometimes it’s hard to talk to my friends about certain things. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one with problems—well, not really “problems,” but I don’t think I’m handling the stress of all this responsibility well. Sometimes I wish I… had someone to share it with, you know? Anyway. A group of us went out last night (Wasted Wednesday and all that) to this bar, Major Dingby’s. And even though I have a “boyfriend”—go ahead, make fun—all anyone did was try and set me up with people!!!! Pretty sure they’re not convinced you’re real? Why would they try to SET ME UP when they know—I mean THINK—I have a boyfriend??? It’s so disrespectful. How is that for ironic? There was this one guy who wouldn’t leave me alone, and all I wanted to do was leave. I also wish I hadn’t worn a skirt, because, HELLO, ASS GRABBING. It did nothing but make me feel less… less whole. Less in control. Less special. It’s not that I mind being single, but I will admit, when I see other people in happy relationships, I get… Ugh, whatever. So that was my night. And now that I wrote that all out I feel so much better, even if I am being a big baby.
Grey
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Crappy night
Grey. First of all, I hope you didn’t just stand there letting some prick cop a feel of your ass. Hearing you talk about it makes me feel shitty and like a dick, because I’ve groped an ass or two. You’re not saying it, but I can hear the frustration in the tone of your message, and on behalf of all douchebags, I apologize for the guy who made you feel violated. Is ‘violated’ even remotely accurate? – Calvin
Grey: Thank you for that email. It made me feel really, really good.
Cal: Really? I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I should double major in counseling.
Grey: Calvin, has anyone told you you’re a very good listener?
Cal: No one—in the history of everybody—has EVER told me I’m a “very good listener.” Let’s not start any rumors to the contrary.
Grey: Well, it’s not like you have a choice but to listen when it’s just me in an email. I’m sure you would have zoned out if you were sitting across the table from me.
Cal: I seriously doubt that.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Sunday-not-so-Funday
Grey. Feeling any better? I hate weekends. I always feel so fucking restless. Itchy to do something. Just went for a jog, and I think I’m going to take my kayak down to this small lake (that’s more of a pond) nearby, blow off some steam. We don’t practice on the weekends because sometimes we have matches, so when we don’t have anything going on I tend to get cagey. “Calvin has too much energy” is what my teachers used to say. Drove my mom up a wall. I was always up at dawn, rooting through the kitchen in the dark before school, eating everything in sight before taking a run. At least once a week, my parents thought they were being robbed. My mom’s grocery bills were ridiculous when I lived at home. Costco has a plaque in my honor from all the pasta my mom used to buy there. So, yeah. On that awkward note—I’m going kayaking. Kind of a bummer that I’m going alone. It’s an awesome day out, yeah?
Just thought I’d see how your spirits were. – Calvin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: The countdown continues.
Calvin,
Well, we’re less than six weeks from the gala, and tonight we have our sorority meeting. We always have them on Sunday nights. I’ll stand and give an update to the entire chapter on the Philanthropy meetings progress, yada, yada, yada… I have a test tomorrow in my Contracts Law class worth half our grade, so before our Chapter meeting—and after—I’ll be cramming for that. Spending the day outdoors sounds (long wistful sigh) divine. It’s so gorgeous outside. Perfect day, and I’m stuck inside Greyson
Cal: Here’s a pic of the lake I’m talking about. Picturesque, hey? See that little island? Sometimes I paddle over and sit on the log hanging over the water. #nofilter
Grey: That is STUNNING, Calvin! So jealous.
Cal: I’ll admit, it is gorgeous, but today for some reason I’m kind of bored. Like I’m missing something.
Grey: I wonder what that could be…
Grey: Here’s a photo of me NOT on the lake :(
Cal: Man, you’re pretty.
Grey: Here’s another one.
Cal: Shit, I have to stop texting from this kayak. I just knocked my hat in the water with my paddle because I’m distracted.
Grey: Ok. TTYL. Don’t fall in!
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Flying solo this weekend definitely sucked.
Morning, Grey. Gotta say, I’m feeling a little guilty I sent you that picture from Lake Holloway yesterday, because you were trapped indoors, but it was so beautiful on the lake. Quiet. There was no one else there except this one couple—they had a tent and were camping on the peninsula of the little island you saw in the picture. Not to be a peeping Tom/creeper/stalker, but I sat and watched them for a little bit before paddling on. Just chilling and lying around in the grass next to their campfire. Looked awesome. It bummed me out though for a second, because it’s like you said in one of your emails; I don’t mind being single, but seeing that couple made me feel weird. And I’m only telling you this because you’re a chick, and I know you have no one to tell—but now I sound like a girl, all whiney and complainey. Haha. – Calvin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Lurker on the lake.
Cal,
Good morning!!!! Yes, I was jealous that you were out on the lake without me. Maybe someday we could… Um. Yeah. LOL. I actually think it’s sweet that you were creeping on those campers. It gives me hope that not all guys are commitment-phobes. YOU’RE not a commitment-phobe, are you, Calvin? Sorry, is that too personal? I don’t mean to pry, but now I’m curious. Anyway! Moving on—any big plans for the week…? Greyson
To: [email protected]
From: cal.thomp
[email protected]
Subject: Resting up and trying to heal.
Grey. Am I a commitment-phobe? The short answer: no.
Big plans for the week? Not really. Just more of the same shit, different days of the week. Studying, homework, studying, practice, and a match this Friday. It’s a home game—our first of the season. Taking advantage of the nice weather, because soon it will get shitty and we’ll be playing in snow flurries. Which blows. Speaking of which, my foul language doesn’t offend you, does it? I keep forgetting you’re classy and not some slutty barfly. – Calvin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Little Miss not-so-Prim-and-Proper
Calvin,
No, you’re swearing doesn’t offend me. At all. So no worries. Don’t censor yourself around me or you’ll exhaust yourself. Besides, clean mouth and proper isn’t who you are, and I don’t want you to pretend you’re something you’re not. Who are you playing this Friday? Anyone I would know? Grey
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Assholes and away games
Grey, we’re playing a little school called Notre Dame. Ever heard of them? ;) It’s a home game, and thank God they’re coming to us. I hate being stuck for hours on a bus, even if they’re charter with DVD players and shit. You have no idea what these rugby guys are like, myself included. LOL. Bunch of loudmouth assholes. Don’t know how we’ve never been blacklisted by the bus company. I guess there’s always still a chance. Glad I can say shit like shit around you and that you’re not easily insulted. Gotta say though, if I watched my mouth for anyone, it would probably be you. But maybe that’s just the lack of sleep talking. - Calvin
Grey: Saw the date stamp on your email last night. What were you doing up so late???
Cal: Studying. We must have some of the same classes because it’s Contracts Law. Actually really love it.
Grey: Me too. I wonder sometimes if I should be pre-law LOL.
Cal: I don’t know. I think you’re probably too soft to be a lawyer.
Grey: What’s THAT supposed to mean??
Cal: You don’t have the killer instinct. I could tell when you were all ‘sorry this’ and ‘sorry that’ when I came to kick Greyson’s ass. You should have stood up to me.
Grey: And said what? What I did was wrong!
Cal: Yeah, but still. Most girls would have at least screamed and yelled at me for showing up on their doorstep.
Grey: Well then, I guess I’m not like most girls.
Cal: Yeah, I’m beginning to see that.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Dentist on call
Greyson. Okay, this week is already going to shit. We had practice today, and I almost got a tooth knocked out. Remember the guy I had with me at your house in the red shirt? His name is Aaron, but for all practical purposes, we’ll call him Shitbag. Moron fucking knocked me in the mouth when I wasn’t wearing a mouth guard, which was a stupid thing for me to forget. Definitely chipped my tooth, blood everywhere. Emergency visit to the dentist. And let’s just put it this way: it’s a good thing I’m only your fake boyfriend, because you wouldn’t want to kiss this mouth. - Cal
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Face plant.
Calvin,
Does it hurt? I’ve only been nailed in the mouth once, and it was by my brother when I was 12. Which would have made him 19. We were playing football in the backyard with some of his friends when he came home from college for Easter, and he lobbed the ball right at my face. A spiral toss, full force. Nothing was knocked out but me. Laid me flat out. Fat, bloody lip for almost two weeks. My parents were so pissed. I still refuse to toss the ball around with him LOL. He’ll never live it down. Speaking of bloody lips, who’s to say no one would want to kiss you? I bet SOME girls get turned on by beat-up-looking athletes. Do you still have that black eye? That’s bonus points. Brings your average up considerably, and I definitely find that sexy. Grey
Cal: My face still hurts.
Grey: Rub some dirt on it.
Cal: I don’t have any. I live in a concrete jungle.
Grey: Poor baby.
Cal: >tear<
Grey: LOLOL
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Nurse Greyson Keller at your service…
Calvin,
How’s our patient today? The lip and teeth any better? I hope Aaron hasn’t mysteriously disappeared, because that would make me an accessory to a crime. And then I would have to report you to the authorities. Grey
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Naughty Nurse Keller? Yes please.
Grey. Wow, you would make the world’s shittiest nurse. I’m sensing all your sympathy lies with Aaron, and I won’t stand for it. We’re not supposed to rough each other up in practice. I swear to fucking God he’s pissed that I haven’t gotten Melody’s number for him. I don’t know where he thinks I’d GET it from, because I haven’t told anyone you and I have been talking. – Calvin
Grey: So now I’m your dirty little secret?
Cal: No, that’s not what I meant at all. You’re more like…
Grey: More like…? Come on, tell me. Don’t be shy.
Cal: Me, shy? Yeah, right.
Grey: Don’t change the subject. If I’m not your dirty little secret, then what am I?
Cal: You’re more like—this is going to sound really fucking dumb.
Grey: SAY IT OR I SWEAR TO GOD CALVIN I WILL COME FIND YOU.
Cal: Well, in that case I’m going to zip my lips shut.
Grey: Aww, you are so cute.
Cal: You’re not my dirty little secret. You’re my guilty pleasure.
Cal: Oh my god, that did sound fucking dumb.
Grey: Hold on. I’m going to pass out now from shock. That wasn’t dumb—it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
Cal: And THAT’S ^^^ the reason I shouldn’t have said anything.
Grey: I’m taking a screenshot of that and saving it for eternity so I can stare at it at night when I’m alone.
Cal: Wow. Spoken like a true stalker.
Grey: LOL.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Worse than a bunch of women. No offense.
Greyson. My roommates are driving me fucking crazy. If they don’t stop asking about you, I’m moving out. Mason checks his Twatter constantly, looking for my name in your feed, and mopes around like a sad puppy dog when he can’t find one. It’s annoying. Could you do me a favor and get him off my back by throwing the dog a small bone? – Calvin
@Grey_VKeller Tweeted: The countdown to Gala continues. Thanks 4 dinner last night @calthompson3192 the poem & wine & roses & chocolates were 2 MUCH! Kisses to my big SWEETIE POOH #bestboyfriend
Cal: I hate you so hard right now.
Grey: *blank stare* Was it something I said?? I tried to use every available character #140
Cal: That was really fucking rude. They are RIDING MY ASS right now. Calling me pussy whipped. Hope you’re happy, you brat.
Grey: Oh, don’t be a baby. You asked me to send the tweet.
Cal: You know damn well that’s not what I meant. Who’s moving out of state and changing their name? >> This guy <<
Grey: Changing your name? *claps happily* Ooh, ooh! Let me help you pick one!!!! What about Chet Montgomery? That sounds sporty and badass.
Cal: No.
Grey: Allan Thouroughgood
Cal: Oh my god.
Grey: Randolph Christian Kuttnauer
Cal: WHERE the HELL are you coming up with these?
Grey: Those don’t sound regal to you? Or manly?
Cal: No.
Grey: I
’ve got it!!! Dark Gray Keller.
Cal: LOLOL Okay. I’ll admit, that one was funny.
Grey: :) I try. TRY. GET IT? GET IT???
Cal: Honestly, Grey. What am I going to do with you…
Grey: I might have some suggestions.
Cal: No comment.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: We’re becoming THAT couple ;) haha
Calvin,
You’re not still mad about the tweet, are you? Believe me—I got as much shit from my friends as you probably did. Apparently, when you publically call someone Sweetie Pooh, it makes people want to toss their cookies inside their preppy monogram tote bags. Or so I’ve been told. Multiple times. Jemma, your roommate’s cousin, has been getting the scoop on you from Mason, and now she wants me to stay away from you. Says you’re only going to break my heart because you don’t “do” relationships. Oh, and you’re a total dickhead. (Mason’s words, not mine). Oddly enough, I ended up defending you like this charade is real. What’s THAT all about?! Grey
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Admit it. I’m growing on you.
Greyson. No, I’m not still mad. Actually, I wasn’t mad to begin with, just surprised. Want to know the truth? I don’t actually mind the teasing. What’s THAT all about? - Calvin
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Bats in the Belfry
Dear Calvin,
Do you realize we’ve been emailing and texting for over three weeks now? Every time I giggle at my phone—at something YOU said—my roommates and sisters give me the weirdest looks. At this point there is no doubt they think you’re real. It’s going to make things that much more awkward when Gala night arrives. I cannot wait for this thing to be over. Which reminds me, pretty soon I’m going to have to publicly break up with you. Don’t worry, it will be mutual, even though having a real life boyfriend would have been handy last night. We had a BAT in our house. I swear to God, Calvin, the screaming coming from Melody… My eardrums shattered. WHAT? Did you say something? I CAN’T HEAR YOU! We must have called our landlord five times, and he never showed up. Finally, Beth, my other roommate, called one of the guys from our brother fraternity, and not one but THREE of them showed up—three of us, three of them. See how they planned that?—with tennis rackets, of course, like THAT was a smart idea. One of the brothers kept asking all these questions about you. His name is Dylan, and if he touched my leg once he touched it six times while grilling me about you. Or the Cal I made up. Anyway, he kept telling me about how long-distance relationships never work. I wanted to smack him. Grey. PS: The bat is gone. FOR NOW.
