6. Nate
SIX
nate
“Your call. Nate?”
Four members of my unit and I sat around an old card table on a Friday night. Three days a week when we were inside the wire, we played cards, which was a respite from long days training, in meetings, at the range. . . life in an active combat zone. Some days were boring as hell. Others, we wished for some monotony.
I looked at my cards. They were shit. Tossing them in, I folded and picked up my phone. Checking text messages had become a bad habit lately. With a burner phone and data-double VPN, I was able to text back to the states. Which passed the time—exchanging crude memes with some of my buddies back home and getting updates from my former partner about his new life in an old hometown.
It was from that town I waited for a text now. Though not from Lucas.
“You alright over there?” one of the guys asked.
“He met a girl,” another said. Let the ribbing commence. I ignored it until someone called her by name. Zoe was hard to miss. I snapped up my head.
“How do you know her name?”
“Your phone, dude. It’s always out and buzzing with updates from Zoe.”
As the guys went round and round, I pushed back my seat.
“Uh oh. Looks like someone got a text.”
Ignoring them, I stared at my phone. It was, indeed, a message from Zoe. A question about what I’d been doing today. Done with cards, I made my way through the base. It was dark now, but during the day I could see smoke fires, villagers, goat herders, and glaring sun. . . among other things.
It had been more than ten months, and I was ready to get the hell home. What I wouldn’t do for a slice of pizza or a big, juicy cut of steak right about now.
My room, with enough privacy for some things and not enough for others, awaited. Sitting down on the bed, figuring enough time had gone by, I thought about how to answer her question without compromising OPSEC. Any time I sent a message back home, operational security was in the back of my mind.
It was hard to believe Charlee had given Zoe my number less than a week ago. At this point, we texted multiple times a day. Another came through from her.
Oh, sorry. I forget you can’t really answer that.
The woman was either one of the nicest I’d ever met or just really liked to apologize. She did it often.
No apologies necessary. If you ask me something I can’t answer, I’ll just tell you.
Sounds good. So it’s like ten o’clock over there now. Bedtime?
Almost. Just got back from playing cards.
Ahh, fun. That’s cool you have stuff like that to do over there. In between fighting terrorists and all.
And before I got a chance to respond. . .
OMG I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to give anything away.
Chuckling to myself, I responded.
You didn’t. That’s no secret.
She made me laugh at least five times a day.
At first, we’d messaged once. Then the second day, almost all morning. After a week in, we’d gotten into the habit of texting quite a bit. For me, mostly before the day started and when it wound down. For Zoe, she jumped on when she could, and a certain rhythm to our communication had been established.
Then yesterday, the question.
Curious about something but it’s. . . personal.
Send it
What’s the dating situation over there?
The dating situation or my dating situation?
There was a difference, and so the question had to be asked. I already knew from Lucas she didn’t currently have a boyfriend and assumed she already knew I wasn’t in a relationship either.
I waited what felt like hours for that response. And then finally she texted.
Yours
So maybe she hadn’t asked Charlee and Lucas after all.
Ah, well. No girlfriend. If that’s what you’re asking.
It is.
She didn’t follow that one up, so I dove in next already knowing the answer.
How about you?
Nope
And with that, the stage had been set. Whereas our messages all week were innocuous, getting-to-know-each-other type stuff without really knowing where this was headed, since yesterday, our texts had taken on a much flirtier tone.
This was getting interesting, that was for certain.
I texted her now.
Speaking of secrets, tell me one about you.
Either she didn’t want to answer, was momentarily distracted, or I’d pushed too hard. It was difficult getting to know someone over text. I envied Lucas, who had gone about finding a girlfriend the right way. Moving back home. Reconnecting with his ex. Falling in love with her again. Though I personally didn’t think he had ever stopped loving Charlee.
Ever since Lucas and I met, I’d heard her name way more often than I should have given that the woman was just a high school sweetheart. Now the two of them practically lived together, and Lucas had admitted he wanted to ask her to marry him but was just waiting to figure out how to make it perfect. He wanted to “think of something good,” which should be interesting, since I wouldn’t normally put Lucas and romantic grand gestures in the same sentence.
She was typing.
Those text bubbles taunted me morning, day, and night, especially when I could see her on there, knowing something was about to come through. Who said long-distance relationships were dull? Not that we were in a relationship. Yet.
Here’s one. I like you. A lot.
Hell, yeah.
I like you a lot too.
Bring. It. On.