Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Royal
After the final bell rings, my students call out rambunctious goodbyes as they file out of the room. I wave to them from behind my desk, reminding them of their homework in a voice loud enough to be heard over the noise.
I straighten my desk and shove the papers I need to grade into my messenger bag before plopping down into my chair to check my work email one last time before I leave. My brow quirks up when I see a new email from Callie, and when I click it open and read it, a bark of laughter bursts through my lips.
From: Calliope Barnes
To: You
Subject: Dinosaur Impressions
Dear Royal,
Your Gallimimus impression could use some work. You looked like a drunk chicken. Also, thank you for keeping the kids quieter today. My class appreciates it. As do I.
Sincerely,
Callie Barnes
My eyes scan the message again, getting hung up on the greeting. Last week, her email was more formal, addressing me as “Mr. Manning,” and the word “Dear” was definitely omitted. And teasing me so overtly like that?
This weekend obviously softened her toward me a bit. Maybe offering to share my room with her wasn’t such a disaster, after all…that almost-kiss notwithstanding.
My smile widens as I click the reply icon and start to type.
From: You
To: Calliope Barnes
Subject: re: Dinosaur Impressions
Dear Callie,
Spying on me, were you? And I’ll have you know the Gallimimus did, indeed, walk like a drunk chicken. My impression was spot on. And you’re welcome. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am capable of compromise.
Your Favorite Drunken Poultry,
Royal
After sending the email, I stare at the screen for several beats, savoring the light, happy feeling in my chest before shutting the machine down and standing. Pulling my messenger bag over my shoulder, I leave my room and head straight for Callie’s. Her door is propped open, and when I pop my head in, the room is empty and the lights are off.
I don’t dwell on the disappointment stinging my chest, smiling and waving at the other staff members I pass on my way to the exit. When I step out into the afternoon sunshine, I take a quick glance around the lot. I can admit I’m looking for Callie. I can also admit I feel that same twinge of disappointment I felt earlier when I see her car leaving the lot and pulling out onto the street.
I watch until the vehicle disappears around a bend in the road, then I blow out a long breath and head to my own car. Deciding tomorrow is soon enough to see Callie, I convince myself I’m not that disappointed to have missed her. Turning the radio up, I sing along with it as I put the car in gear and head home.
After I let myself into my apartment, I drop my bag on the kitchen table and head straight for my bedroom. Stripping down, I hop in the shower to wash the day off, then dress in a pair of athletic shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. Walking to the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping myself on the couch to relax for a while.
I lean back and close my eyes for a few moments, then pop them back open with a sigh. My apartment is like a tomb. Lonely and silent.
I pick up my phone and open my text message thread with Elle. Reading through this morning’s texts, I feel my mood lighten. Tapping at the screen, I type out a new message.
Me: Do you ever hate the quiet moments? Like when you’re all alone with only your thoughts for company and the silence is deafening?
I watch the screen for a “read” receipt for several beats, then decide I’m being pathetic. Closing the app, I drop my phone beside me and grab the remote, instead. Turning on the television, I search for something, anything to watch that’ll take my mind off the strange loneliness I’m feeling, but nothing interests me. Clicking the T.V. off, I call out my AI voice assistant’s name and ask her to play some music.
I’m just starting to relax when my phone chimes with an incoming text message, and I eagerly snatch up my phone. When my face unlocks the screen, I open the app and read the short message.
Elle: Every. Damn. Day.
Her response leaves me feeling twisted up inside. Glad that she texted me back. Relieved that she can empathize with me. Sad that she feels this way so often.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly type out a message asking her if she’d ever consider meeting in person sometime. Halfway through the question, I grunt and delete it. I can’t suggest that.
If we meet, it could ruin the easy, anonymous friendship we’ve built. I like chatting with her, and wouldn’t want to lose that if she turns out to be a different person, entirely, in real life. What if she’s intolerable? What if she’s really a grown ass man living in his parents’ basement?
Even if she is exactly who she seems to be, asking to meet could scare her off. She could have the exact same concerns about me and decide our short little daily conversations should end if she thinks I’m pushing too hard.
I type out a new message, instead.
Me: I know texting doesn’t exactly break the silence, but I’m here if you ever need a distraction from it.
Elle: Thanks, Emmett. The same goes for you. I’m here.
I stare at the last two words, and my eyes start to sting. This whole thing started because I was texting Hope, trying to find a way to ease the pain as the anniversary of her accident drew close. She’s not here anymore, but Elle is, and I’m feeling a bit guilty for enjoying these text exchanges. I know it’s silly. Hope has been gone for two years, and I know she’d want me to move on and be happy.
Not that I’m moving on with Elle . This is just a friendship, of sorts.
An image of Callie pops into my mind, and I grunt and shake my head. I can’t deny I’m attracted to her. And after spending time with her this weekend, I can admit I might even like her. But nothing is ever going to happen there. Besides the fact that we work together and it would be a terrible idea, the woman barely tolerates me.
But speaking of Callie…
I close out the texting app on my phone and open my work email to see if she’s responded to my earlier message. My chest expands, and my mouth parts into a wide grin when I see she has. Clicking it open, I bark out a laugh as I read.
From: Calliope Barnes
To: You
Subject: re: re: Dinosaur Impressions
Dear Drunk Chicken,
I wasn’t spying. Your classroom was too quiet, and I was just making sure your students hadn’t tied you up and gagged you before escaping to the playground, or something. Also, I was wondering if I could pick your brain sometime in the next week? I want to make my lessons a bit more fun for the kids, so who better to ask than a big kid like you?
Sincerely,
A Grown-up
Calliope Barnes is asking me for help? Is the world ending? Did hell freeze over? Whatever the cause, I don’t care. My lips feel like they might split open, my smile is so wide.
Being around me this weekend obviously had a greater effect on Callie than I realized. She doesn’t just barely tolerate me. She might even like me, a little. And that makes me feel like a fucking king.
My thumbs fly over my phone’s screen as I reply to her email.
From: Me
To: Calliope Barnes
Subject: re: re: re: Dinosaur Impressions
Dear Adult Woman Who Longs to be a Child Again,
You think I’m fun? Of course, you do. I am, in fact, incredibly fun. And I’d be honored to help you plan your lessons for next week. You free on Saturday?
Sincerely,
Completely Sober Chicken Who Thinks You’re Fun, Too
My thumb hovers over the icon to send the email as my eyes scan the signature part of the message. Is it too much? Will Callie think I’m flirting with her?
Am I flirting with her?
I’m overthinking it. I tap the send button before I can change my mind. Maybe I was being flirtatious, but there were good intentions behind it. Callie is fun, and if she wants to learn how to incorporate that side of her personality into her classroom, I will help her.
Dropping my phone to the couch beside me, I stand and head into the kitchen for something to eat. Grabbing a snack-sized bag of pretzels from the pantry, I walk back to the couch and plop down. Before I open the bag, though, I pick up my phone and refresh my email.
A new message pops up, and I open it without wasting a second.
From: Calliope Barnes
To: Me
Subject: re: re: re: re: Dinosaur Impressions
Dear Questionably Sober Chicken,
*Insert eye roll here*
Fun, and oh, so modest about it, too. And yes, I’m free. Do you want to meet at my place around six? I’ll order some food.
Sincerely,
Callie Barnes, Adult Woman Who IS Fun, But Really Has No Desire to Go Through Puberty Again, Thank You Very Much
I bark out a laugh as I finish reading. I sober quickly, though, as I reread the body of the message. We’re having dinner? Is this a…date?
I shut the thought down, not ready to process my excitement over the prospect. Plus, it’s not a date. Callie’s just feeding me as payment for my help. Nothing more.
I shoot back a quick email telling her I’ll be there and asking for her address, since I don’t actually know where she lives. Then I drop my phone and open the pretzels before digging one out and popping it into my mouth.
Chewing slowly, I play that whole exchange over in my head. It makes me feel…good. After all this time, Callie and I are becoming friends. And that can only improve our working relationship. We should be helping each other like this.
We should have been all along.