Chapter 8 Boy Texts Girl Back
Eight
Boy Texts Girl Back
As soon as my friends arrived home, I brought an Ambien with me to Emma’s room and took it before going to sleep. The next morning Emma’s alarm went off full blast.
Thanks to the sleeping pill, I’d gotten at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. My back, however, screamed at me. Her cushioned chair that flipped out into a bed was the most uncomfortable thing to sleep on.
I rolled over and rested my gaze on my phone, laying on the floor next to me. Chills ran down my legs. Omigod. I’d texted Dallas.
My arm shot out like a frog’s tongue. I grabbed the phone. But there wasn’t a single new message on it.
I should throw this damn phone out the window. Or maybe take a hammer to it, break it into millions of pieces, ensure that no one could recover the data that proved how much of a loser I’d become.
“Good morning,” Emma mumbled, so softly it was like she’d put a towel over her head.
“Morning,” I said. My own voice wasn’t any better. It was deep and nasally.
I set my phone back on the carpet. I didn’t want to touch it. I wished I didn’t even own it. I wished…I wished cell phones didn’t exist.
Maybe that was what I should do. Give up my phone. No need to worry about guys or what they were thinking, or know what my friends were doing every minute of the day. Perfect.
“Are you okay, Ade? You look awful.”
“Thanks.” I glared at her. I didn’t really need her brutal honesty this early. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
I stood, slipped on my flip-flops, and trudged out of the room to the shared toilets.
After taking care of business, I stood at one of the sinks, washing my hands and looking at myself in the mirror.
I did look pretty horrible. The whites surrounding my eyes were red, my eyelids were puffy, and my cowlicks were making my hair stick out in all the wrong places. I was a disaster.
In the hall on the way back to Emma’s room, I decided I needed to pull it together. Maybe I should come clean to Emma. Admitting to her that I’d texted Dallas and hadn’t gotten a response might be the first step in freeing myself. If I could do that, it might be like nothing had ever happened.
I stepped into her room, and she was already dressed.
“I’m starving,” she said, putting on some mascara. “Let’s get Priya and Luke and go down to breakfast.”
The room turned on its side and spun like I’d just experienced g-force on an amusement park ride. I might be trying to forget about Dallas, but my embarrassment over him continued. I was not going to the dining hall. After that unanswered text, if I saw him there, I would die. Absolutely die.
“They’re probably not up yet,” I said.
“They are.” She switched to the other eye. “Priya just messaged.”
I walked over to my phone. “Since Luke’s here, maybe we should get breakfast somewhere else.”
“Like?”
“How about the diner on Stadium Street?” I opened my phone. There was a message from Priya saying they were awake.
A new text appeared.
Omigod…Dallas.
My arms went numb. My hands limp. A sickening feeling overcame me. Nausea, but at the same time, an electrical current running from my heart down to my toes.
DALLAS
How about today @ 3PM?
My body started to tremble uncontrollably. Get it together, Ade. Don’t let Emma see you like this. Think. Think. I managed to text back. It was clumsy, and my autocorrect had to do the bulk of the work.
I have to work. 5:30PM is better, where?
“Ade?” Emma said. “Did you hear me?”
She’d been talking, and I hadn’t been paying attention.
“What?” I asked her.
“I said let’s go ask them.”
Ding went my phone again. I glanced down at the screen.
DALLAS
Starbucks on Fifth
K
“Who are you texting?” Emma approached me.
My heart raced as I turned off the screen and slid it into the pocket of my pajama pants. “Jay.”
“Do you think he’d want to go?”
“Go where?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “To the diner for breakfast.”
“Oh.” I’d totally forgotten what we’d even been talking about. “I doubt it.”
“Is he busy?”
Shit. Shit. “He’s out for a run.”
“He’s texting you and running at the same time?”
“Yes. No.” Sheesh. Being a liar was hard when the person I was lying to wouldn’t stop with the third degree. “He’s going for a run.”
“Oh,” she said.
Together, we went back to my room so I could change and we could get Priya and Luke.
Because of Dallas, my hands were a sweaty, shaking mess. My whole body was sticky. I could hardly get my pajamas off and my jeans on. Five thirty. That was in eight hours. Eight long hours.
The four of us went downstairs to walk to the restaurant. As we were exiting the dorm, Jay and one of his teammates entered in their running pants, Saucony running shoes, and wicking layers, smelling of frozen sweat. Crap. I should have said he was done with his run, not starting it.
Emma stared hard at me, her brows dipping into a tight frown.
Clueless Priya yammered away. “We’re headed out for breakfast. You want to come with us?”
Jay politely refused. Something about showering and a group project. He left and so did we.
Emma came up beside me. “Strange that Jay was coming in from a run when you said he was going for one.”
“I must have mixed it up.” I kept on, not missing a step.
“Humph.” She didn’t say another word—all the way to the diner.
Thank God, because the lying had to stop.
I’d meet Dallas for coffee and figure out that I really didn’t like him, that he didn’t meet all five requirements on my list, that he was not a good candidate to cure my insomnia.
Then it would be over. No harm done. After that, I’d tell my friends the truth.
And we’d all have a good laugh about it. I hoped.