9. What Are Friends For
NINE
WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR
ISABELLA
“Have a good night, Jamie!” I call out with a wave as I walk out of the compound into the parking lot where Jordan should be waiting on me.
I make it halfway across the lot to her car before I notice mine isn’t where I left it last night. I stop abruptly and turn in a full circle, confirming that my car is nowhere in this lot.
Oh my god.
“Che cazzo,” I swear under my breath. How the hell does a broken-down car get stolen?
This is honestly just my luck.
It’s been such a long day that I can’t fight back against the tears stinging my eyes.
No, no fucking crying right now. Not around people I work with. Not around people, period.
Climbing into Jordan’s car, I let out an annoyed screech once the door is shut.
“My fucking car was stolen!” I start fishing around in my bag for my phone.
“I need to call the police. I need to report it.” Her hand shoots out, halting my movements.
I look up at her for the first time and see the biggest grin on her face.
“Okay, why do you look like the damn Cheshire Cat?”
She doesn’t say a thing, simply hands over a folded piece of paper. I raise an eyebrow and stare at it.
“Fucking take it,” she practically shouts, shoving it into my hands.
I sigh and drop my phone to unfold the paper. My eyes widen from the greeting alone.
Firecracker,
Your car is fine!
Sorry if I caused you any panic. Your friend said you might panic.
Your car is in the shop. I stopped by your place on the way into the stadium this morning and she gave me your spare key. They should’ve fixed it up today and it’ll be ready for you to pick up first thing tomorrow morning.
See you in a week and a half ;)
Ryan
His phone number is scribbled below his name.
“Jordan.”
“Yes?” she drags out the s and pitches her voice up, ignoring the murderous tone of my voice.
“What did you do?”
“Oh, come on Isa! He’s hot. And he wants to be your friend. There’s nothing wrong with being his friend. Or you know… his friend with benefits.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“How do you know about that?” I ask. He only asked me last night, and she was already holed up in her room by the time I got back to our apartment.
And I was up and out before she woke up this morning.
I haven’t had the time to tell her about our conversation at In-N-Out last night.
In fact, the only conversation we’ve had was the text I sent her before the game asking for the ride home.
“He told me all about it when he stopped by this morning.” She smirks at me. “You have a lot to fill me in on, young lady.”
Of course he did. I let out a sigh and drop my head to the dashboard. “Okay, mom. Let’s go home.”
I sit back in my seat as she pulls out of the parking spot. I hesitate for a second before I make what will probably be one of my biggest mistakes.
Isabella
Please tell me you didn’t pay for my car repairs
Fletcher
Does it look like I’m made of money???
Isabella
A little bit, yeah
Fletcher
Ha ha. You’re SO funny Isabella
Isabella
I do try
But seriously
Did you pay for it?
Fletcher
No, firecracker. I didn’t
I knew you wouldn’t take well to me doing that without your say so
But say the word and it’s covered
Isabella
I can cover it
Fletcher
I knew you’d say that :)
Isabella
*rolls eyes*
Goodbye, Fletcher
Fletcher
Goodnight firecracker
Talk to you tomorrow!
Isabella
GoodBYE
Fletcher
GoodNIGHT
I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?
Fletcher
Did you pick up your car yet?
Isabella
I’m doing that right now, DAD
Don’t you have practice or a flight to catch?
Fletcher
Do you even know our schedule at all?
And you can call me daddy whenever you want ;)
This is the moment I know I should stop texting him. This is why. Because he says things like that. And yet… my fingers fly across my screen typing out a reply anyway.
Isabella
I know the things that impact me
Ew, stop
Fletcher
We’re playing San Diego so we’re driving down later this evening
Had an early morning batting practice, but now I’m enjoying some time in bed with a coffee
Isabella
And why is it that you’re texting me from bed?
I feel like that borders on inappropriate
Fletcher
Noooooo
Inappropriate would be me telling you what I’m doing in bed ;)
I choke on the sip of my coffee, coughing to clear the scalding liquid I accidentally inhaled.
“You good over there?” Jordan asks, sitting next to me in the repair shop’s small waiting room, an eyebrow raised.
“Yep. Fine. Totally fine,” I choke out before I turn around and hunch over, shielding my phone from view as I type my reply.
Isabella
Again
Ew, stop
Fletcher
I’m only messing with you
I’m having my morning coffee and watching some game tape to prepare
Isabella
Sure
“Game Tape”
That’s what they call it nowadays
Fletcher
It’s true!
Isabella
Whatever you say, hotshot
Fletcher
Oooo yes, call me that again
Isabella
UGH don’t make it weird
Now I’m never saying it again
Fletcher
I’m not making it weird
You are
Isabella
God you are such a child
…
Um, Fletcher?
Why the hell are my repairs only $100???
A new battery alone is at least $150 or $200. They ran me through all the repairs they needed to make and based on my rather limited experience with mechanics, that should have cost me well over $1,000
You said you didn’t pay for my car!
Fletcher
I didn’t
Entirely
I may have asked him to only charge you for the labor…
I covered any parts
Isabella
Fletcher what the actual fuck
I’m paying you back
Fletcher
No, you’re not
Your money’s no good here
Isabella
*rolls eyes*
Did you really just quote The Shining?
Fletcher
Is that where that’s from?
I’ve never actually seen it
Isabella
Uhhh yeah. It is
I’m serious though. I’m paying you back
Fletcher
Nope
Sorry
That’s what friends are for
Isabella
We’re not friends
Fletcher
That’s what you think
But you’re wrong
We’re gonna be the best of friends
Isabella
Goodbye, Fletcher
Fletcher
Talk to you later, bestie!
I’m only five minutes into the latest rom-com when my phone buzzes twice on the nightstand. I groan as I roll to reach for it, expecting—and dreading—a work message at 10 p.m. But it’s not.
Fletcher
Seriously
Save me
Of course, it’s Fletcher. I had hoped the lengthy conversation he carried on earlier would’ve been the end of it, but I knew it wouldn’t.
He seems… persistent. And I’m not too sure if I like that or not.
I could lie and say I hate talking to him, but I don’t.
It’s why I keep replying each time he messages.
Even if I try to give him the vibes that I don’t.
I’m trying to scare him off. He thinks I’m some unicorn of a woman, when really, I’m a flawed girl who feels like she has no idea what she’s doing just as much as everyone else.
Maybe if he finally sees that, he’ll get over this fixation he has with me.
Isabella
Why are you texting me?
Fletcher
I’m bored out of my mind on this bus and Cooper is asleep on my arm
It’s got that whole pins and needles feeling because he’s cutting off circulation
I need my arm! My livelihood depends on it!
Isabella
Again
Why are you texting me?
Fletcher
I need my friend to entertain me!
Isabella
We’re not friends
Fletcher
Wrong
We’re best friends
Isabella
Nope
Not even close
Fletcher
You know what?
You’re right
We’re not friends
I catch myself smiling at his messages, and have to force the expression from my face.
No, Isa. No smiling at him.
Isabella
Thank you for finally understanding
Fletcher
Because friends know stuff about each other!
Let’s play 20 questions
Isabella
Oh dear god
Fletcher
I’ll go first
Hmmm gotta think of something good…
I already know your favorite color and movie
Isabella
Nope
We’re not doing this
Fletcher
Oh! I’ve got it!
If you were an animal, what would you be?
Isabella
…
Playing twenty questions opens up a whole can of worms where this whole getting to know each other thing is involved.
It means talking, frequently. Which we shouldn’t be doing.
I shouldn’t even be messaging him now. This whole thing is dancing along a gray space of my employment contract that I don’t want to test.
But the devil on my shoulder—who sounds suspiciously like Jordan—is shouting at me ‘what’s the harm?’
Fletcher
I’m waitinggggg
“Fuck it,” I whisper to myself in the dim light of my bedroom.
Isabella
I guess I’d say a cat?
Fletcher
You don’t seem very confident with that answer
Isabella
I don’t know!
I’ve never had to think this through before
Fletcher
Fine
Why a cat?
Isabella
Does that count as one of the 20 questions?
Fletcher
No
It’s part of the original question
Isabella
*sigh*
I guess they seem to have a chill life. They’re independent, and the cats I grew up with were treated like royalty. They were the fattest, most spoiled things in the world and I could definitely get on board with that
Fletcher
I think I accept that
Mine would be a golden retriever
Isabella
Of fucking course you would
Fletcher
I’m loyal, protective, and friendly
Plus they seem to live the best life
They’re the goodest boys
Isabella
And they’re incredibly high energy
Fletcher
I’m not high energy
Isabella
…
Goodbye Fletcher
Fletcher
What? No!
You need to entertain me
We still have another hour left
Isabella
Do you even know what time it is?
I’m trying to sleep!
Fletcher
It’s only 10:30
There’s no way you’re trying to sleep
Isabella
I could be
You don’t know
Fletcher
Mhmm sure
Before I can even type out a response, my phone buzzes in my hand. I’m expecting it to be another text, but instead I see Fletcher’s name flashing across the screen as an incoming call. I freeze, watching it buzz.
He’s calling? Why is he calling?
I shouldn’t answer.
But also, it would be rude to ignore his call. I don’t want to be rude.
My finger hovers over the green button, debating, before I quickly tap to answer right before he gets sent to voicemail.
“Uh, hello?”
“Hey there, firecracker.” Fletcher’s hushed voice floats across the line.
“Is there a reason you’re calling me?”
“Well, I can’t have you falling asleep on me.”
I honestly have no clue how to respond so I sit there speechless, staring at my laptop screen where the movie I had been watching is paused.
“It’s your turn, firecracker.”
“What?”
“Your turn to ask me a question, duh.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fletcher roll his eyes, but I can almost certainly hear the gesture in his voice now.
I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Fine. What’s your favorite movie?”
“We already covered that at dinner, silly goose.” He scoffs.
“Actually,” I say, drawing out the word, “we didn’t. You never did answer.” I smirk, even though I know he can’t see it.
“Oh… you’re right. How rude of me. Well, that’s easy. For Love of the Game.”
“Let me guess, a baseball movie?”
“You’d be correct.” I can hear the smile in his face. “And we’ve already covered that your favorite is a sports movie too. We’re meant to be.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t think that’s what it means.”
“Hater,” he accuses. “Okay, my turn. If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Oh god, that’s a hard question.” I take a moment to think about it. I’m about to give him my immediate answer, but I also don’t.
“Don’t think too hard. Give me the first thing that comes to mind,” he encourages.
“Ugh, I can’t do that,” I whine.
“Why not?”
“Because the first thing that came to mind is—” I sit up abruptly and hold the phone closer to whisper, as if she’ll hear what I’m about to say from across the country. “Before I say this, I need you to swear on your life that you will never tell my mother I said this.”
“Oh, firecracker, you think I’m going to meet your mother at some point? I’m so honored. I knew you liked me!”
“Fletcher?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.” The dick laughs. “I’m serious,” I hiss. “My mother is never allowed to hear about this.”
“Fine, fine. I swear, firecracker. Now what is it?”
I let out a sigh. “Tacos. It’s tacos. I’ve become obsessed with them since I moved out to California.”
“What’s so bad about tacos? Tacos are great.”
“Yes, but it’s not my mother’s cooking. I mean, don’t get me wrong, her food would be a close second. Her tiramisu might be one of my favorite things in the world. But tacos.”
He laughs. “I get it. Tacos are pretty great. Your secret’s safe with me.” I’m sure if I could see him, he’d be winking at me.
“What would your choice be?”
“Hmm, it’s a tough decision. Tacos sound great, but that was yours, so I’m going to pick something else. Maybe pizza? Yeah. Pizza.”
“That’s a solid choice,” I reply, closing my laptop and rising from my bed, officially giving up on my movie.
“You’d certainly be more likely to earn Mom’s stamp of approval with pizza as your pick.
” I walk over and drop the computer on my desk and climb back into bed, this time under the covers. “Dream travel destination?” I ask.
He hums thoughtfully and I can almost see him tapping his chin in the most exaggerated thinking position. “I feel like this is going to sound so lame, but honestly, either Hawaii or I’ve always wanted to do Oktoberfest in Germany,” he answers with a chuckle.
That makes me laugh. “Oktoberfest? Seriously? Why does that make the most sense for you?”
“Hey now! Don’t stereotype me. It just looks like such a great time, and we’re always so deep in the season, gearing up for playoffs so we miss out.”
“Alright, aright. I think my answer would be Australia. It’s one of those places that fascinates me but is also so far out of reach.
It’ll probably be one of those one and done trips.
I’ve done some different location shoots in the past, but nothing way out there.
Plus, when you’re working, you never have enough time to actually enjoy the place like you would on a vacation. ”
“That’s fair. I feel like I travel so much already for my job that I prefer to use my time in the offseason to kick back and relax. See my family.” As he explains, I try to fight back a yawn but fail. He falls silent. “Did you yawn?”
“I—no. Definitely not,” I lie.
“Were you actually trying to sleep when I called?” I can hear the worry in his voice that he overstepped.
“No, I was watching a movie. But it is nearing my bedtime.” I chuckle.
“I’ll let you get to sleep then, firecracker.”
“How kind of you,” I joke.
“Can’t wear out my bestie so soon!”
“We’re not friends, Fletch.”
“We will be. Just you wait and see.” I can hear his smirk.
“Whatever you say.”
“Goodnight, Isa.”
“Goodnight… Ryan.”
I end the call and slump back into the pillows. It might be harder to fight being his friend than I thought.