First Text
Maggie
Five Years Ago
UNKNOWN: Have I already been ghosted?
MAGGIE: Who is this?
UNKNOWN: OUCH ??
UNKNOWN: After everything we’ve been through?
MAGGIE: Gonna need more details, babe. Your number isn’t saved in my phone.
UNKNOWN: Aww, pet names already? I guess I’m doing better than I thought. ??
UNKNOWN: I’ll forgive you for ditching me last night, if you let me take you to dinner tonight. I nearly dropped my phone, remembering the boy I’d drunkenly humiliated myself in front of the night before.
Brody.
Oh, God.
Liam’s cute friend and teammate, Brody Callahan.
How was it possible that this man saw me nearly tumble over myself while drunkenly singing ABBA songs, and he still wanted to see me again?
It didn’t make sense.
In my defense, I knew last night hadn’t been a good look, but I had been as powerless to stop it as anyone.
I’d gotten a message from my dad. An email, if we were being specific. For the first time in fifteen years. Said he saw me on LinkedIn and wanted to reconnect, if I was willing.
Fucking LinkedIn.
The message took the breath out of my lungs in a way I’d only felt once, when I got hit by a softball flying straight at my chest in high school.
Hearing from my father honestly rattled me to such a degree that I stormed Liam’s apartment immediately and dragged Cassie out, because I just needed her for moral support.
She made me feel lighter. Less chaotic. Like the world wasn’t caving in on itself just because something unexpected and somewhat painful happened.
I think it was because she dealt with so much shit with a smile on her face that it made my problems seem so insignificant in comparison.
Not that she ever made me feel like that.
And I knew she’d listen if I told her about the email, but how could I do that when Cassie had so many bigger things to deal with?
Especially at the present moment. Especially when I stuck her into an apartment with my moody, temperamental brother who had already made her cry.
And I knew I couldn’t tell Liam, because he’d been suffering from chronic emotional constipation for the last decade and would offer me zero support when it came to figuring out what to do about our father.
So, I did what I always did.
I chose the escape route. Don’t think about it. Don’t dwell on it. Just drink and escape. At least for one night.
I hadn’t been counting on Brody, though.
He reminded me of Cassie in the way he was all sunshine and smiles. Being near him felt like basking in the sun on a summer day.
I chased that feeling. Craved it.
And that had scared me, even when I’d been too drunk to remember why that was dangerous.
So, dinner?
It definitely didn’t sound like a good idea.
UNKNOWN: I know you’re ignoring me. But I promise if you give me a chance, I’ll make you laugh even harder than you did last night.
MAGGIE: You didn’t make me laugh. It was the alcohol.
UNKNOWN: Then, I’ll have to accomplish that feat before you get any alcohol in you tonight. I’ll see you at seven.
MAGGIE: Nope.
UNKNOWN: Yes.
UNKNOWN: plssssssss
MAGGIE: ….
UNKNOWN: I’ll be there at seven.
MAGGIE: If you can find out where I live, then I’ll go with you. (without asking my brother.)
UNKNOWN: pfftt, as if HE would tell me. But challenge accepted. See you 2night.
UNKNOWN: babe ??
I held in the laugh that threatened to come out at his last message. I wasn’t going to let him win that bet of making me laugh that early, even if it was in the privacy of my own home.
Still, I saved his number in my phone for reasons I couldn’t quite admit and pocketed it away.