Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
I wonder if she has any nudes.
Ha! Yeah right.
She doesn’t seem like the sort. Besides, who would she send them to? As far as I know, she’s single. It didn’t seem like she was actively on the dating apps searching for love or dating or sex, wasn’t having a single conversation with anyone as far as I could see.
Not until I came along and began swiping for her, you’re welcome very much.
You’re doing the girl a favor, Jack.
Are you though? Or are you just bored?
I find an unoccupied table in the student union and set my full tray down, plop into a chair, resting my elbows on the tabletop even though I know it’s bad manners.
I’m sulking, obviously, trying to figure out the reason why.
I’m not jealous of this guy on the dating app. I’m not.
That would be absolutely preposterous! I don’t know him and barely know Eliza, nor does she know Jessie—they haven’t even gone out yet. The girl doesn’t even know what the lad looks like because she doesn’t have her bloody mobile!
Still, as I shovel French fries into my face, I stare off into the distance, over at the offices lining the walls within the union. The office of the student government and the young people inside. Watch through the glass as they go about their business doing whatever it is the student government does.
My eyes roam to the other side of the union, where campus clubs set up tables, inviting others to gather information about joining.
Fraternities.
The LGBTQ community.
Environmental clubs, a few intramural sports teams.
My gaze drops to my tray, and I send up a silent prayer of thanks that no one has approached or joined me.
This would be a first, and I’m happy for it; the last thing I want is company. I’m in no mood for it today.
If I had a fork, I’d be stabbing it into this hamburger bun. That’s how out of sorts I am with no reasonable explanation for it.
Finally, Eliza’s mobile makes the sound I’ve been waiting for this entire afternoon: it pings. It pings and I jump as if I’ve been startled or shocked by an electric current.
Halle-frickin-lujah.
Be cool, Jack.
Chill, bro.
Wiping my mouth and my hands, I set the paper napkin back in my lap and brace myself for whatever message I’m about to receive. Excitement courses through my veins. This is absolutely stupid. I’m just mates with this girl. She means nothing to me.
Why am I so eager?
Eliza: What are you up to?
Me: Eating a late lunch, how about you?
Eliza: Just finished a nonverbal communication class—are you still on campus?
Me: Indeed I am.
Eliza: Wonderful. We can meet and make the switch?
Me: Brilliant. When?
Eliza: Now?
Me: Sure, I can meet you once I’m done with this supper. I’m to be at the park for practice later. Where do you have to be?
Eliza: Nowhere. I was going to head home.
Me: Cool.
Eliza: So, Kaylee has texted you about 20 times…
Twenty times? Um…
Me: Doesn’t that seem excessive?
Eliza: No comment.
Me: Ah, so you agree that it seems excessive.
Eliza: LOL that’s not for me to say.
Me: Blah blah you’re agreeing with me without agreeing with me by not saying a word.
Eliza: Eh. Am I?
Me: Indeed.
Eliza: You sound so stuffy when you use that word. InDEED…
Me: Are you trying to change the subject?
Eliza: Indeed!
Me: Ha. Okay, I concede. 20 times messaging a bloke is perfectly normal and not at all desperate, so we can move on with our conversation.
Me: You’re ready to have your mobile back?
Eliza: So ready. You?
Me: No, I’m having too much fun with yours. A bit stodgy of you NOT to have any nudes, but that’s neither here nor there.
Eliza: Guess it’s rightfully stodgy that you have no dick pics, so there.
Me: SICK BURN, Eliza. Well played.
Eliza: *takes a bow*
Me: That a bow or a curtsy? I am British, you know.
Eliza: You can be awfully annoying, do you know that?
Me: I’m gathering I irritate you an awful lot, yes.
Eliza: Let me count the ways…
Me: Do go on, I’m interested.
Eliza: Well, you don’t actually irritate me all that much. You’re becoming like the annoying little brother I never wanted. Ha ha!
I’m sorry, what now?
Little brother she never wanted?
Excuse me?
My dick just shriveled. I swear my balls just crawled up inside my body. If ever there was a sentence in the category “things a man doesn’t want to hear from a woman,” those are the words it would be comprised of.
Little brother?
She’s comparing me to her…her…SIBLING?
No bloody fucking way. No.
Me: I’m sorry—what?
Eliza: You’re like the brother I never wanted.
Me: Your brother.
And, I’m not little, but far be it from me to point that out at a time like this. This feels very dire, and I’m having a hard time focusing my eyes on the tiny screen without tossing the bloody thing across the room so it lands in the aquarium at the far side of the union.