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39
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Hey!
I got up in a good mood today, don’t ask me why; there’s no reason. And since I know what you’re going to say, no, it’s not because I’m sleeping with James sometimes. I can’t stand the way guys say that: What you need is a good fucking . Honestly, I think what most guys need is a chastity belt. Anyway, where was I going with this…? Right, happiness. I woke up, I grabbed my project (I had already printed everything I did the other day), and since Kate was still asleep, I went to a café for breakfast. I hadn’t done that in ages. Sometimes something as simple as getting up on a Saturday, taking a walk, and sitting alone at a table is enough. I ordered toast and coffee. It’s still a little chilly here, but I sat outside. I’ve been looking over the interview I did with Lilian Everden a few weeks ago. The waitress probably thought I was insane when she saw me there smiling by myself, but it was so inspiring…
I’m really happy with the outcome.
I realize I have everything I need. I don’t know why we sometimes get lost in complications instead of just looking around and seeing how fortunate we are. Think about it. I’ve made new friends. I have a good relationship with my ex (whenever we see each other in class, he always says How are you, Ginger? , and we’ve sat together once or twice, though I can’t say we talk much). Then there’s my family: they’ve got their good and bad points, but they’re there and I love them. I have a friend with benefits. In a wink, I’ll be done with school, and I’m lucky enough to be able to jump right into a job. That’s huge, right? Did you ever look at things that way?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Save some for me
The one thing I’m asking myself is where you bought those magic mushrooms that are making you feel so good. If you want to send me some, I won’t say no. BTW, my birthday present still hasn’t gotten here. What did arrive was a package my mom sent me a million years ago. Inside was a bunch of canned food (she must think I live in the middle of the jungle) and new socks (why do mothers always think, wherever you are, you can buy anything you need except socks?). I also asked her to send a picture from when I was in high school to show you. You’re going to laugh. It’s me with the football team after winning the championship that year.
Ready…it’s attached. Don’t be mean.
I do think you owe me something in return.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: [No subject]
Can you hear me laughing from here? Because I am. I can’t believe THAT BOY is you. Your hair is layered, Rhys. LAYERED. Like in an eighties movie. You look so preppy in that uniform and that pose… Who’s the cheerleader leaning on your shoulder? Your ex-girlfriend? The prom queen?
Why should I give you something in exchange?
That’s coercion. I’m still laughing.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Fine, it’s coercion
Yeah, that’s my old girlfriend. What do you think? She was a little superficial. But she wasn’t a bad person. I think. To tell the truth, we didn’t talk much. We basically just hooked up in the back seat of my car every time we had a free moment.
I made an effort, before you start chewing me out.
I absolutely hate photos.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Deal
I can see you two connected on a very deep level.
Okay, let’s make a deal. Tell me why you hate photos so much, and I’ll share something pathetic about my childhood. That seems fair.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Deal
I don’t know, I don’t like the idea of freezing a moment. It doesn’t mean anything. A stranger could look at a photo from a family reunion and not feel anything. Just seeing faces or smiles, noticing a haircut or clothes, is nothing. I like keeping memories for myself, because I know what color and scent they had, you know? An image can’t convey that. It’s just flat. A piece of paper. I prefer taking mental photographs.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: Deal
“Mental photographs”? How modern, Rhys.
Look, I know what you mean, but I don’t agree. I know a photograph can’t convey the sensation of a real memory, that tingle you feel when you look back, all those subtleties…but it’s also nice in its own way. For me, it’s like the prologue to a real memory. Sometimes I look at the pictures I have hanging on the corkboard. I just realized I don’t have any pictures of you. Worse, I don’t have any of us together. I don’t know if we’ll see each other again, but if we do, you better be sure I’ll take a bunch of photos, even if you complain and scowl at me.
I’m sending you my part of the deal.
Don’t laugh too much, okay?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Little Ginger…
Is that you? For real? It doesn’t look like you. It’s funny, I didn’t see any pictures like that on the corkboard in your room when I was at your house. You should know, you’re a serious cutie with those round little cheeks… And those huge braces! I felt the urge to tug on the ponytails of that studious little girl.
Of course we’ll see each other again.
But no photos, Ginger.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Little Ginger…
I know, my braces were horrible. It didn’t help that I smiled like a horse. If I think about it, I’d have to say that if we were in the same class, you probably wouldn’t have spoken to me. You’d have been busy being prom king, and I… I was always invisible. I lucked out having Dean as a neighbor and son of my parents’ friends, because relationships just weren’t my thing. Not that they necessarily are now, but at least I don’t blush every time someone talks to me. Studious is right—I was a total nerd.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: Little Ginger…
Why do you feel that way? I think we would have been friends.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: You know we wouldn’t
That’s not true, Rhys. You’d have been too busy staring at those giant round perfect breasts that your girlfriend seemed to be trying to stuff in your face in that photo from the football championship.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: You know we wouldn’t
So? The one thing has nothing to do with the other. I could stare at her boobs and be your friend at the same time.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: You know we wouldn’t
I doubt it. Teenage guys have exactly one neuron. And that neuron is usually busy with things that are stupid or gross. It doesn’t matter, Rhys. We’re just theorizing about things that never happened. I wasn’t even being serious.
I need to let you go. I’m seeing James tonight.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Speaking of realities…
Maybe we don’t need to overthink it when we talk about who would leave whom. Look at who doesn’t have time to write lately because she’s busy with something that back in the day would have taken up my one neuron. (Also, I’ve always had more than one neuron. Surprise: I’m not one of those guys who can only focus on one thing at a time.)
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Speaking of realities…
Are you jealous, Rhys? Don’t make me laugh.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: [No subject]
So what? I can be jealous.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: [No subject]
Okay, I’m guessing you got home drunk a few hours ago after having fun with your friends (and banging some chick), and now you’ve opened one last beer and turned on your computer. Probably you thought it would be fun to mess with me because I’m the type of girl who blushes when she says the word fuck . Let’s not talk about that stuff. I’m over the attitude, Rhys. I’m writing you less because I’m busy with James, my exams, and my final project. But don’t pretend I’ve abandoned you.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: [No subject]
Yeah, I got home drunk. Yeah, I banged Tracy in the bathroom at the bar. Yeah, I cracked open a beer when I got here. Am I that predictable, Ginger? I wasn’t trying to tease you though. I think we usually understand each other through email. I guess you thought I was making fun of you for sleeping with James, but for me, it was just a remark. We’ll work it out.
I understand you’re busy…
But tell me, Ginger, what other words make you blush? Don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been wondering since yesterday.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: RE: [No subject]
You’re not predictable; it’s just that I know you better than you think. And I get your jokes. They’re just not funny.
Stop trying to get on my nerves.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: [No subject]
Come on, fess up.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: [No subject]
What do you want me to say? Yes, there are words and expressions that make me uncomfortable. So what? I don’t know what they are when you put me on the spot; it’s not like they’re something I think about. Can we change the subject?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Assumptions
So I’m supposed to believe neither Dean nor James is the kind of guy to whisper dirty talk in your ear in bed. Weird. I have the feeling that’s exactly what you’d like. That it would turn you on. Obviously you won’t admit it.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Assumptions
Since you can’t drop it, I’m going to start sending you long emails with reflections about life, what we’re going to be doing in ten years, pure romantic love that lasts forever, having kids…
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: Assumptions
Fine, Ginger, you win. I give up.