3. SYDNEY
3
SYDNEY
This is the last time I’m checking his online status and then I’m shutting my computer down for the day. I have been doing homework, but also flipping over to the forum and refreshing his profile every five minutes.
It’s fine that he hasn’t messaged me today. Not everyone has the same addiction to the forums like I do. I know this. I’ve accepted it.
Most people have lives. I shouldn’t expect him to be online every time I am, despite how much I want him to be.
I found the forum the summer I graduated high school. After everything happened with Koa, I couldn’t talk to him anymore. He was my only friend who didn’t make fun of me for all the books I read which meant he got all of my daily reading updates. He never complained once. Sometimes I think he even enjoyed all of my rambling.
“And we’re done thinking about the past,” I mumble to myself. It needs to stay in the casket I buried it in. I don’t need to be dredging up old feelings. “I am moving on.” I nod in half-hearted agreement.
Sighing, I close my laptop and plug the charger back in. “I’m not going to look for him again until tomorrow.” Grabbing a few clothes I have draped over my desk chair, I walk over to my closet to put them away. It’s a failed distraction attempt. “ Maybe not tomorrow. Tonight. I’ll check later tonight.”
Now I just have to keep myself occupied until then. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of things to do. I can go to the lab and work on some assignments. I can read the book I just downloaded. Or maybe I’ll spend the day with Lauren. It’s been awhile since I’ve visited with everyone in her neighborhood for Sunday dinner.
Or …I could stay here and get caught up on my reviews. And if he happened to show up, it would be a lucky coincidence.
My addiction to the Fiction Forum is even more out of control than before. It’s not my love of books that has me searching the chat rooms for good conversation.
It’s him. NotYourAverageJoe19.
Ever since he made me laugh with his comment about Viren’s hair, I have intentionally sought him out online. I’ve gotten lucky a few times over the last week. I either found him in a room already chatting with other people or he would show up at some point before I logged off for the night.
I’m used to striking up conversations with strangers on Fiction Forum . It’s easy to feel a connection to a fellow book lover. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve typed the word ‘ same ’ after someone posted an opinion about a character, book, or author they love.
I rub at my sore jaw thinking about how much he’s been making me smile. There is something about this man that feels different. I have absolutely no idea how or why. His name appears on the screen and my heart starts pumping a little bit faster.
I wish I knew more personal details about him. It’s a little concerning that I have no idea who he really is and I already feel a deep connection to him.
One night he left the chat saying he had to do homework. Does that mean he’s in college? God, I hope he’s not in high school.
Or maybe he’s a psychopath or a kidnapper looking for their next victim. I think I would prefer this to some kid in high school.
“You look like you’re spiraling,” Lauren says, her voice laced with concern.
“Huh?” I glance at her as I walk into the living room. She’s frozen in the kitchen holding a slotted spoon in one hand. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Charlie says from our couch.
“What are you doing over here?” I ask.
“I’m bored and lonely,” she admits. “Wren went home for the weekend. Lauren said I could come over and help with Sunday dinner.”
“How are you helping cook dinner in the living room?” I ask.
“She’s helping by staying out my way,” Lauren says.
“Exactly. Now tell us why you’re spiraling.” Charlie pats the empty couch cushion. I exhale a long sigh, before taking a seat.
“I met someone.”
“Joe. I know. I was there. You’ve been texting, right?” Charlie asks.
“We have,” I say tentatively. Joe and I have exchanged a few texts. His schedule is just as busy as mine. He’s currently traveling with the baseball team as their athletic trainer. If he was here on campus, we might have hung out this weekend.
“He seems nice,” Lauren chimes in as she works her magic in our small kitchen.
“He is nice but I’m not talking about him.” I spare them both a quick glance. Charlie leans forward desperate for me to continue my confession. “I met someone online in the Fiction Forum .”
“Oh,” Charlie says, void of emotion.
“Oh? That’s all you have to say.”
“Syd, you meet people in those chat rooms every day. You talk about your different book friends you’ve met online all the time. You know, your friend who’s not really your friend but the friend you know online ,” Lauren says, while waving the spoon around in the air.
“Right. But this is different. He is different.”
“He? Ooooh. How? Tell me more.” Charlie crosses her arms over her chest.
I shrug. “He just is. I can’t explain it. He reads a lot of the same books I do and he’s actually into them. He picks up on all the little details that a lot of people gloss over. But even more than that he pays attention to me.”
“Do you know anything about him? Where he lives? How old he is? What he looks like?” Lauren fires off questions at me. “You could be getting catfished.”
“Better to be catfished than capfished,” Charlie says.
“Capfished?” I question. “What is that?”
“It’s when you meet a hot guy while he’s wearing a hat. Particularly a baseball cap. Forwards, backwards, doesn’t matter. Then he picks you up for your date without one…and well, he’s not as hot. Capfished.” She shudders.
“But his face is the same,” Lauren says, slightly confused.
Charlie twists her body to face Lauren in the kitchen. “Picture Hart’s face,” she says. Lauren’s mouth curls. “Now imagine him wearing a hat.”
Lauren sways in place and flicks her tongue over lower lip.
“I rest my case,” Charlie says, turning to me and sitting back down in her original spot on the couch. “I won’t be deceived again by another man in a baseball cap. My grandmother always said fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me a third time, he had a big dick,” she says, with a shrug.
I bark a laugh. “She did not say that.”
“She still says it. That woman is an icon.” Charlie shakes her head. “Tell us more about this guy. When did you start talking?”
I readjust myself in my seat. “Last Saturday night after I got home from work.”
“What’s his name?” Lauren asks.
“I don’t know.” I nibble on my lower lip. “His username is NotYourAverageJoe19. Other than his interest in the same books as me, I don’t know anything else about him. I realize it’s silly to like him. He could live somewhere across the country.”
“Or he could live right here in Montgomery.” Charlie’s eyes go wild with excitement. “Did you tell Joe about this forum?”
“I did,” I draw out the word. “You think it might be him?”
“It’s a possibility. What are the chances you meet a guy named Joe in person and online on the same day?” Charlie asks.
“Joe is a popular name. Wouldn’t he have said something in one of his texts? Or in the chat?” Lauren questions.
“Maybe. Unless he’s assuming she already knows it’s him and doesn’t feel it’s necessary to bring it up,” Charlie counters.
“You should ask him,” Lauren says.
“Ask which him what?” I’m getting confused.
“Ask the Joe you know here on campus if he’s the same Joe online,” Lauren explains.
“And if he’s not?” Charlie asks. “That could ruin everything.”
“Or solve the mystery completely,” Lauren replies.
“You need to go out on a date with Joe. Then you can casually bring up a topic you and online Joe talked about in a conversation. If he acts like this is new information, then you know he isn’t the same guy,” Charlie says.
“That could work,” I agree .
Except for the whole date part. I haven’t been on a date in years. Not a real one anyway. I dated Seth last semester but we didn’t go out. We studied, did lab work, met up at the gym, and grabbed a pizza with classmates on occasion. Nothing serious. Nothing that would allow us to get too close.
The concept of getting dressed up and making small talk with someone new makes me feel like a phony. I know exactly what will happen. We will start off having a good time. We will talk and maybe flirt a little. But that’s where the night ends. No matter how many guys I date, or attempt to date, they will never be him. They will never be Koa. It’s like I’m cursed.
“We’ve talked about getting coffee but he hasn’t asked me out to anything official,” I say.
Charlie slaps her head. “That was him asking you out. You need to text him back and get something setup.”
Lauren catches my eye in the kitchen offering me a sympathetic smile. She may not know how deep my feelings for Koa go, but she knows me.
She’s seen me come home after every date I’ve been on over the past four years. When she would ask how it went, I would hit her with the ‘ he’s nice, but there’s no spark .’ It doesn’t take a genius to figure out a standard has been set.
If you can’t surpass the bar set by the man that ripped my heart to pieces, how can I trust you will be enough to put me back together?
The thought of Joe being my mystery guy online excites me. While I didn’t feel an intense attraction to him in person, the way he makes me laugh and smile when we chat online makes up for it. There is potential there.
“Alright, I’ll text him and set up a date.” I need to know for certain if they’re the same person.
If they are, this might be my chance to finally get over Koa Mahina once and for all.
“Scoot over, bro. I need to sit there to balance my plate.” Nash kicks Koa’s shin, forcing him to move to the middle of the couch.
I almost didn’t come over today but I was bored at home. Lauren was occupied with Hart since he just got home from the road. Joe was busy with school assignments and there were crickets on the Fiction Forum from my mystery man.
Nash texted and asked if I wanted to hang out for some brother-sister time. I didn’t expect Koa would be here, too, but I should have known. Those two will always be together if given the opportunity.
My plans for world domination and getting over him will have to wait another day.
Koa shuffles over and tries his best to stay within his designated cushion space. It isn’t a small couch, but he’s a big guy. I’m sitting with my legs tucked under me in my usual spot. I like propping my book up on the arm of the couch .
The familiarity of the current seating arrangement isn’t lost on me. Nash on one side of the couch, me on the other, and Koa in the middle. We spent many nights and weekends just like this growing up.
“Sorry,” I say when I accidentally kick his thigh. I can’t seem to get comfortable now that he’s sitting so close. Amazing what two feet of personal space can do for a girl. It was bearable being in the same room with him when he was on the opposite side of it.
“You’re fine.” His arms stay crossed over his chest and his eyes glued to the baseball game on the television. He’s just as thrilled as I am to be sitting so close together.
I wonder what that is like. To feel absolutely nothing for a person you’ve shared some of your most vulnerable moments with. I must have embellished everything in my head. It’s easy to do when you read as many books as I do. Everything feels like a romantic gesture.
After the night we shared, I realized I was a fool for ever reading into any kind gesture he made toward me. A door being held open was simply that. Same with him serving me food or getting me something to drink. It meant nothing. We meant nothing.
“Did you ever get a call back from your agent?” my brother asks. I attempt to keep my mind focused on the pages of my book even though I am more interested in hearing what Koa has to say about his agent.
I turn the page even though I didn’t read it. I will have to come back to this part later. It’s not like I’m comprehending much of it anyway with Koa invading all of my senses. How is anyone supposed to think clearly when he smells so good?
“I talked to him while we were on the road. I have a few options available.” Koa drops his arm onto my calves, putting a significant amount of weight on them to keep me still. I didn’t realize my legs were bouncing.
“Who’s looking at you?” Nash asks, with his mouth full of his sandwich.
“Uh, I think he said Colorado, Texas, and maybe Chicago.”
Nash lets out a low whistle. “Damn those are some good teams. Do you have a favorite?”
“I don’t know. Nothing feels right. None of those cities feel like home to me,” Koa says, looking down at his hand on my leg.
“The contracts are good though?” he asks, meaning the money.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be starving.”
“What about you, Sis? Do you have your post graduation plans squared away yet?”
He knows I’ve applied for a few paid internships. One of which I’m really hoping I get. The company is doing exactly what I want to do—a Black woman owned beauty company specializing in developing products for people of color.
If I can learn the ropes under these women, I know it would have a big impact on my own company when I’m financially able of starting everything. That is the end goal.
“Not yet. I’m still waiting to hear from everyone. For now you’re stuck with me this summer.” I grin at him.
“I won’t complain about that, although I hope you hear from them soon. I’m going to be busy with football anyways,” Nash says, standing from the couch. “I have a feeling preseason is going to be a bitch.”
“You’ll be ready. You haven’t let up since the season ended,” Koa tells him.
“I don’t want to be the weak link on the team this time. My career is on the line too. I’ve got to do whatever it takes to get teams looking at me.”
“They will. I bet they already are. We got close to the championship game this year,” I say.
“No thanks to me,” he grumbles
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Koa says. Nash glances back and forth between the two of us before nodding and going into the kitchen.
I divert my attention back to my book, trying hard to ignore the way Koa is slowly invading more of my personal space. It isn’t easy to do.
“I’m going to go study,” Nash says, walking back into the living room. “I’ll order some pizza for dinner in a few hours. You’ll stay, Syd?”
“Yeah, I can stay,” I answer hesitantly. Does Koa want me to stay, too, or am I being the third wheel like usual?
“Cool. See you later.” He grabs a textbook he left on the coffee table and then heads downstairs to his room in the basement. Typical Nash. Always asking me to come hang out and then bailing on me. He’s been doing this more and more lately .
This isn’t awkward at all. Maybe I should go home. I can pick up dinner from the cafeteria and do my laundry. My room is a disaster and I should really clean up the bathroom before Lauren gets home. I left a few experiments out on the counter.
“What are you reading now?” Koa asks gruffly. The question is a direct hit on my heart. His tone is different but it’s the exact same question he would ask me almost daily in high school. For a time, I thought he enjoyed reading as much as I did but then sports took over his life.
I close the book and hold it up so he can read the title. He grunts, acknowledging he’s seen enough. And with that, I’ve had enough. I start to push off the couch.
“Stay,” he commands, tightening his grip on my leg. My eyes flutter and I let out a slow breath. For a moment my heart jumps in my throat at the thought that maybe he wants me to stay for him but I know better than that.
Wishing and hoping is a dangerous game. One I don’t like playing. Yet, here I am rolling the dice and allowing myself to get comfortable with him again.