Chapter 28 #2
Another whoosh echoed through the living room.
Then again. And again.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Willow tapped the phone, desperately trying to stop the succession of repeat messages, but the text was sent out a fifth time.
Then, finally, everything went quiet.
It was too late to undo it; Scottie had probably already seen them.
Groaning, Willow covered her face with her free hand. Great. Now she looked as if she really, urgently wanted to find out if Scottie would bring someone to the party. Which, of course, she did.
Fiona looked up from the present she was wrapping. “What? Is she bringing a date?”
“Don’t know yet.” Lips pressed into a tight line, Willow held out the phone, showing Fiona the five identical messages.
“Wow!” Fiona chuckled. “Someone’s a little eager to find out!”
“I didn’t send all of them! My phone glitched! It sent out the same text five times, and now I seem like an obsessed stalker!”
It was another reminder why dating Scottie for real was not a good idea. She spread digital chaos wherever she went. Nobody wanted to deal with that for long.
Willow fumbled with the phone, then typed: Sorry! My phone is being weird. I only sent it once, I swear.
No worries, Scottie replied. And to answer your question, I’ll be flying solo this year.
It was a silly office holiday party, not a not-guilty verdict being handed down by a jury. She shouldn’t have been so relieved.
“You’re beaming,” Fiona said with a grin of her own. “Let me guess: She’s not bringing anyone.”
“No, she’s not.” Willow tried to sound cool, calm, and collected but knew she was failing spectacularly.
With a triumphant “whoop,” Fiona grabbed a handful of ribbons and tossed them into the air like confetti. “Ask her if she wants to go together!”
Another text from Scottie arrived, so Willow ignored her sister.
You? Scottie had asked.
Was she waiting with bated breath, hoping for a negative response too? Willow wasn’t sure and didn’t want to read too much into it.
Flying solo too, she typed. Then, with her gaze glued to the small screen, she waited. And waited.
Fiona’s off-key humming and the crinkling of wrapping paper sounded overly loud.
Spice stalked in, sniffed the wrapped boxes, and batted at a dangling ribbon, but Willow kept her attention on the phone.
What was taking so long?
Several minutes ticked by without another text from Scottie. Was that the end of the conversation for her?
Just as Willow was about to give up and go back to her typewriter, her phone buzzed again.
So neither of us is bringing someone, Scottie’s message said. Do you want to go together?
Willow froze. She waited for a second text bubble to arrive. One that said: Just as friends, of course. Or maybe: So I can save you from the evils of small talk again.
But no such message came.
Did Scottie think adding an explanation wasn’t necessary because it should be obvious after she had told Willow this morning how much she valued their friendship? Or had she not added anything because she wanted it to be a date, not two single friends hanging out at an office party?
A spiraling sensation started in Willow’s head, then spun down her chest and into her belly. What was she supposed to answer?
She wanted to go to the party with Scottie; that much was clear.
But if she said yes, what would she be agreeing to? After kissing Scottie in the elevator two months ago, she had promised herself to stop sending mixed signals.
If she went with Scottie, she had to be open to whatever it would mean.
Was she?
Or, of course, she could be the one to clarify and add a “just as friends” or make a joke about needing to bring Scottie as a human shield to keep away their chatty colleagues.
But when she tried to type something like that, her thumbs refused to move.
No, that wasn’t what she wanted. Scottie was so much more to her than a human shield. But did she have the courage to admit it?
“You’re doing that thing again,” Fiona said. “That overthinking thing.”
Willow didn’t look at her. She stared at Scottie’s last message until the words blurred before her eyes.
But they still echoed through her mind. Do you want to go together?
Her heart thudded. I’d love to, she typed, then froze with her thumb hovering over the send button.
Don’t, a voice in the back of her mind screamed. It wouldn’t work. It never did.
But maybe it would with Scottie. Or maybe Scottie really meant it only as going together as friends. Either way, she would never find out if she didn’t try.
Before she could chicken out, she pressed her thumb down.
The whoosh sound of the message sending filled the living room.
Another one followed. Then a third one.
With wide eyes, she watched as three identical text bubbles appeared in a row.
I’d love to.
I’d love to.
I’d love to.
Willow groaned. “Oh come on! Not again!”
“Not what again?” Fiona asked.
Willow’s phone buzzed with another message from Scottie.
“Give me a minute,” Willow murmured, all her attention focused on the device.
Great, Scottie had written, followed by three beaming emojis—probably one for each of Willow’s texts. Want to pick me up?
Despite her tension, Willow couldn’t help laughing. You’re just suggesting that because you hope I’ll let you drive my car again, she replied.
Well, there’s that, Scottie answered.
Okay, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six thirty. At least if Willow picked her up, Scottie wouldn’t run into Fiona again. Her sister couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut. Plus if Willow drove, Scottie wouldn’t end up with another dead car battery.
“Willow?” Fiona waved to get her attention. “What’s happening?”
She looked up from her phone, no doubt with a stunned expression on her face. “We’re going to the party together.”
“Yes!” Fiona threw herself backward onto the floor and flailed her arms and legs with a triumphant squeal.
Spice let out an indignant hiss and darted from the room, her tail puffed up like a bottlebrush.
“That’s so amazing!” Fiona kicked her leg in the air again. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Hey, I didn’t say it’s a date,” Willow protested.
Fiona grinned. “But you also didn’t say it wasn’t.”
Willow slumped against the back of the couch and clutched the phone to her chest. Oh God. She might be going on a date with Scottie—and if she was, this time, it would be a real one!