Chapter 5 Weslyn
Weslyn
I was so exhausted last night, that as soon as my shift was over, I took off toward the apartment, racing to get to my bed.
I stayed even longer than my extended shift but it didn't bother me as much.
But I will say that I regret it just a little bit after my boss asked if I wanted to work a shift today and I have this really annoying trait of not being able to say no.
So I said yes. I don't even think I wiped my makeup off last night before I face-planted into my sheets and fell asleep.
My shift today starts in three hours, and my boss promised me it wouldn't be longer than a four hour shift this time, meaning I'd be off in time to go to the house party I was invited to.
Parties aren't typically my scene, or at least they weren't in high school—hence the semi-social life.
But I do like to get some social interaction outside of the bowling alley occasionally and I do love music.
As I crack my eyes open, smelling the fresh laundry scent of my pillowcases while the window curtains dance in the slight breeze from my open window, I think about the stranger in my text messages.
I don't know why it's the first thing I think of.
Maybe because I couldn't think of anything else for most of the night while I worked last night and now that I have some time to breathe and with proper rest behind me, I'm curious to know if he even responded.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and I reach for my phone off the side table next to my bed and unlock it blindly—the sun too bright peeking into the room for me to see properly just yet. But as my vision clears, I see an unread text.
That's a beautiful name.
I read the message, probably ten times over, and something that resembles butterflied tickle against my stomach.
I don't get complimented often, or like ever.
I've always been one to stick to myself and I only really do the bare minimum in group settings if I can help it.
Even at this party tonight, I'll likely just nurse my drink by myself and people watch.
I reread Kyran's compliment, and it takes me a moment too long to decide that he did not have to say that to me.
He didn't have to respond at all actually.
But he did. And something foreign grows in the way that feels.
Accepting a compliment from someone you know is one thing, but from a complete stranger is another.
How do you even say thank you to someone you don't know?
8:57am
That's really nice of you to say. Thank you.
I stare at my text and wonder if it's enough and that's when I notice that his message came through almost immediately after I told him my name last night and part of me feels the need to defend why I didn't respond right away, though I doubt it bothered him too much.
8:59am
Also, sorry I didn't see this right away. I was way too tired after work last night. I came straight home and passed out.
I decide to save Kyran's contact information in my phone, if only to stop seeing an unknown number pop up when he texts.
But as I do, I wonder if it's even worth it.
Maybe he'll decide that enough is enough, and after learning my name and texting me the sweetest compliment, he's done with this silly little accident.
But when my phone buzzes in my hand, a slight smile spreads on my face and I feel nervous as I open the message.
9:03am
No need to apologize. I fell asleep reading Pride and Prejudice shortly after, so no big
What kind of nerd reads Pride and Prejudice for fun?
Shit, sorry. That was very judgmental of me. Intrusive thoughts.
Wow. I got comfortable really quick just blabbing my thoughts to a stranger. First name basis or not, it's not enough to be myself yet. But really, what's the harm? Maybe not knowing each other is the reason why I can actually be myself without restriction.
I roll over and sit up in bed to stretch my body.
When I see the response dots dance up and down, I actually dread the message that will soon follow, wondering if he'll scold me for my rude comment. I close my eyes and throw my head back into the pillow, waiting for the vibration to hit my hand. When it does, I squint my eyes at the screen.
9:07am
You're cute. But truth be told, I actually am kind of a nerd.
My heart races.
You're cute.
You're cute.
YOU’RE CUTE.
Me. Cute?
It's the only thing I can see. I reread the words over and over.
This isn't right, is it? In no way should I be caught up in this text conversation with someone who was looking for another woman to begin with.
But I can't help but think that nothing has to come of this if I don't want it to. I can stop texting at any moment. We don’t know each other so what’s going to happen if we just . . . stop?
It's a little forward—you're cute—but it doesn't have to mean that. Maybe I'm just taking it that way. Maybe I want to. He doesn't know what I look like. But also, I do like the way it feels to have some anonymity behind this situation, accidental or not.
9:12am
:) No, but really. Sorry for the insult.
I read Pride and Prejudice one time. At least I was required to for a school project and I'll be honest, I wish I would have actually paid attention.
There. No big deal.
Avoid the compliment like it means nothing.
Because it doesn't. Or maybe it does. But also, I do like having this—whatever this is—to look forward to.
Right now, I'd probably be sitting in the shower long enough for my fingers to prune, singing some kind of sad song like my heart's been broken—which it really hasn't been—before dragging my feet to get dressed for the day just to fall back into bed before work.
But this, this is interesting despite how foreign it feels.
I stare at my phone for a few more minutes, waiting for a response. It doesn't come. At least not right away. But after walking over to my bathroom and starting the shower to allow the water to get hot, a text response does come through.
9:17am
Are you in school?
I read the message, and I tilt my head. I guess I didn't think about what part of our lives we're in; our age and our jobs.
Is he married? Does he have kids? Does that really even matter right now?
Who knows which way this could go. It's harmless banter between two strangers.
Something slightly forbidden, enticing, and scary all mingle with my emotions as I type out my answer to question and hope that it doesn't scare him away.
Not that I should care, right?