21. Bailey

twenty-one

Bailey

It’s been a long week, my brain can’t take another second of studying so I throw my books on the countertop and melt into the couch. I check my phone again, hoping he’s messaged me. Pathetic, Bays.

When I find my inbox empty, I decide it’s time to grow a pair. Come on, dude. Just send it. I pull in a deep breath, close my eyes, and hit what I hope was the send button. So fucking dramatic.

Me: Got any plans this weekend?

I stare at the phone, palms sweaty, stomach churning. Jesus. My cheeks warm imagining how ridiculous I must look right now.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the three dots pop up.

Oliver: Jay and another friend of mine want to go to Disco tomorrow night, but I don’t have any other plans. You?

Me: Nope

Does that make me sound lame? Probably. I wince, dragging my hand through my hair.

Oliver: Do you like Sushi?

Me: Only the deep fried, unhealthy rolls

Oliver: I’ll pick you up at 5.

I laugh, smiling at my phone as my cheeks get a few degrees warmer. Fuck me. This really feels like a date. Am I going on dates with him? Are we dating?

I shake my head. Fucking stop it, Bailey. You’re going to put yourself into analysis paralysis with that shit.

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