Chapter 20 Claire
Claire
Ileap for my phone on my bedside table, nearly throwing my computer from my lap. I gave Jay my number at Monroe’s and have been waiting for him to use it ever since. I even kept my phone on loud during my tutoring sessions, and I haven’t done that since the Spring Break incident of last year.
The week we had off, Chloe went to Cabo with her then-boyfriend, Connor.
He was older than her and completely loaded.
After just two weeks together he surprised her with a trip to an all-inclusive on the coast. She was gone from Monday to Saturday and afterward, came right to my house from the airport to give me all the details.
The details turned out to be a half hour of her filling me in on all of the wild places they banged, most of which I can’t unhear.
After a repulsive thirty minutes, she went home, and I left for the library.
I was only halfway through my tutoring session when The Lonely Island’s I Just Had Sex, started playing from my phone on full volume.
Apparently, Chloe thought it would be funny to change my ringtone without letting me know and introduce little Johnny to one biology lesson I wasn’t prepared to teach.
Karma got Chloe back though just three days later, when she got a call from the resort saying that Mr. Seth Landon’s credit card had bounced for their room.
Turns out Connor was not so loaded after all.
He was also not only unemployed and living in his mother’s basement, but he was a criminal who frequently committed credit card fraud. After that, I called us even.
So here we are, over forty-eight hours after giving Jay my number and a full year from the last time I had my volume on loud, and my phone finally dings with a message from him.
JAY: Hey, it’s Jay. Party is at Neon Nights on Friday at 9. Cool?
Okay so not a complete confession of love but it’s more than three words so I’ll take it.
ME: Sounds good to me. Do we want to meet there?
I hit send before I have a chance to edit it a hundred times.
I mean, it’s a ride — does it really matter how he answers?
But as soon as it’s delivered, I realize which way I want him to respond.
It’s like when you toss a coin into the air and as soon as it’s out of your hand, you’ve already chosen a side you hope it lands on.
JAY: I can grab you on my way if you want.
Heads it is.
ME: Perfect.
Realizing he’s only ever been to my parent’s house, I send my address too.
The three bubbles appear showing that he’s typing and then disappear again.
I wait for him to respond — to text back anything to keep the conversation going.
But he’s a man of few words and after enough time has passed that I know our exchange has come to an end, I silence my phone, put it back on my nightstand next to my laptop, and hit the light.
As I snuggle under the covers, I think about the collection of conversations that I’ve had with Jay over the last week.
I realize that I don’t mind that he isn’t the chattiest of guys.
With him, he says what he means and he means what he says.
There’s no fake chit-chat, no sugarcoating things.
His words are like shooting stars — rare and fleeting but if you’re lucky, you just might catch a glimpse.
“I like classic cars. And you.”
I roll over and grab my phone to send a text of my own. There’s a notification for one new message already waiting.
JAY: See you then, Claire.
Smiling, I close out our chain to type out the text I planned on sending.
ME: Be here tomorrow to shop for a new outfit. Guess who finally has plans Friday night.
Almost immediately I get a response.
CHLOE: IT’S HAPPENING!
I send a thumbs-up emoji as another text comes in.
CHLOE: Jay boy wants to rev your engine, doesn’t he?
Then another.
CHLOE: Tap your bumper?
And another.
CHLOE: Flick your headlights?
Laughing to myself, I set my phone down again and roll back into bed.
I drift off to sleep humming the tune to I just had sex and thinking of shooting stars.
I get back from my run to see Chloe sitting on the steps to my apartment with two coffees from Busy’s in her hand.
I feel bad that she’s starting to sweat from the morning sun, but to be fair, when I said I wanted her here to go shopping, I thought she’d come when the stores were actually open. I should have known better.
Chloe and I treat our summers very differently.
Where I like to keep routine, she is very much go with the flow.
Sometimes the flow means sleeping in until 10 am and sometimes it’s hitting hot yoga before the sun comes up.
Today, the flow led right to my apartment door when she realized I have a date (are we calling it that?) and she is lacking details.
She hands me my iced butterscotch latte, slurping up the last sip of her mocha cold brew.
“Were you waiting that long?” I ask, signaling to her empty drink.
“Nah, I was just super thirsty. You’re lucky you got here in time. Yours was next.”
Fake gasping, I pull my drink back. “Never!” I take a long sip of my latte and close my eyes in bliss. “These truly are the best.”
“I know I am. Now tell me everything.”
I fill her in as we walk into my building and to my apartment. Starting at the beginning I tell her all of it, from pizza at Enzo’s to our text chain last night. She listens intently, nodding here, gasping there, and asking for step-by-step details of our kiss including sound effects and role play.
When she finally sets me free from my story, I leave her in my bedroom and step into the shower. From the bathroom, I hear her yell.
“So let me get this straight. You get this mysterious, sexy mechanic if I may add, to feed you, openly admit to liking you, and kiss you up against the wall like the intro to an adult movie?”
“Okay, I wouldn’t take it that far.”
“And now you are going to Neon Nights with him and a bunch of his hot, greasy friends?”
“I never said his friends were hot or greasy so I’m not sure…”
“And you’re just telling me about it now!”
“I’m sorry! It all happened so fast.”
I hear her scoff, and I can picture her eyes rolling as clearly as her being in here with me. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re forgiven. But I better receive regular updates from here on out.”
Laughing from the shower I stick my head out of the curtain. The view from the bathroom leads right through the door to her sitting on my bed. Her grumpy expression would look right at home on a toddler who hadn't been allowed ice cream for dinner.
“You will be the first to know if there is anything else to tell, okay?”
“Fine," she fake sulks.
I go to pull my head back into the shower as she starts again.
“Hey, Claire…”
I look at her, waiting for her to finish.
“Sorry for interrupting your pizza porno the other night.” She breaks into laughter as I pull my head back and snap the curtain shut.
“Ass!”
Once I’m dressed and ready to go, I check the time.
Stores should just be opening up. We devise a plan of attack for finding the perfect outfit and both decide that hitting the mall will probably give us the most bang for our buck.
So, we’re off to the Center Springs mall to score a knockout dress and an Auntie Anne’s pretzel.
Honestly, I’m not sure which I’m most excited about.