“Oh. Well, you do. Anyway.”
He furrowed his brows and brought his phone closer to his face. “Who is that behind you?”
I jumped and rolled over, almost screaming with fright. “Lilly!” I quietly yelled, trying to get my heart to calm down.
She, like a little creeper, was standing over me and just all in my business. “Are you talking to a boy?”
“Shhh! What are you doing? You scared me to death.”
“You’re not supposed to be talking to boys. Who is that?” She leaned down to look at my screen and excitedly asked, “Is that Aladdin?”
Neal laughed and waved.
“Oh my god,” I muttered, and ushered her away. “Go back to bed.”
Then I said to Neal, “I gotta go.”
—
I’d showered, washed my hair, and shaved, just in case…ya know, Neal wanted to video call. What if I accidentally dropped my phone and he got a look at hairy legs? I checked out my reflection. Ew. This growth on unkempt brows. I deftly plucked my eyebrows and made sure my clothes were fresh and clean.
“Since when have you begun drinking coffee?” Ma asked as I poured a mug for myself in the kitchen and grabbed a waffle hot out of the toaster. I smothered it with butter, no syrup.
“Just want something not sweet. My gums are starting to hurt.”
She frowned. “Yes. We need to limit sugar. Quarantine is not an excuse to go sugar wild.”
“Where are you off to in a hurry?” Dad asked as he helped Lilly with something on the laptop.
“Going to eat breakfast on the balcony.”
“Good to get some fresh air. Make sure to water those poor plants while you’re out there.”
“Okay.” I closed the bedroom door and hurried to the balcony, throwing a pillow and my sweatshirt out to make myself as comfy as possible.
Everything was set up, my shades on, relaxed and leaned back on my pillow-cushioned folding chair with coffee in hand and half-eaten waffle on a paper towel on my lap.
In about four minutes, Neal texted.
Guitar Boy: Hi! I’m going to be out on the balcony in a bit if you want to come out. Some real-time face time? Maybe?
Me: Sure
When he emerged, he beamed and waved. Then he leaned his forearms against the railing and we just watched each other. There was something very rewarding about being able to check out a boy from afar. And the shades hid my gawking now that I knew what he looked like close up. There was an entire conversation between us without uttering a single word.
He eventually sat down and pulled a book from the windowsill before asking for a video call.
Sure. Why not?
My stomach tied into little knots in anticipation as his image appeared on my phone. The shades stayed on, though.
“Hi,” he said, simple but so thrilling. He was even cuter in the daylight, his skin glowing.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound as chill as possible.
“Whatcha up to today?”
“Oh, you know? The usual. Eating, drinking, watching my friends’ TikToks. I might play a game with my fam later. Waiting for a certain boy to hand over my shoe.”
He chuckled, sending a pleasant flutter through my belly. Wow. Calm down, woman.
“Why’d you throw it at me in the first place?” he asked.
“I needed quiet and the balcony is the only place I can find it. I asked you to stop. You ignored me.”
“Ah. But throwing something at me was kinda extreme.”
“With everything going on in quarantine, all the noise, being stuck inside, glued to screens, I was getting bad headaches and just needed quiet. I shouldn’t have thrown anything at you.”
He knitted his brows. “I’m sorry. I probably added to that stress.”
“At first, definitely.”
“Not anymore?”
“I think the music you play actually helps.”
He nodded. “It helps me.”
“You’re stressed, too?”
“Who isn’t? Worried. Bored. Irritated. Playing the guitar helps.”
“Where did you learn how to play?”
“YouTube. Gotten much better since quarantine, though. It’s harder to play songs already out there, so I just make up my own stuff, sometimes.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “It’s really nice. Thanks for sharing your music with me.”
“Anytime. I can be quiet, too, though, if you need.”
“Thanks. So. What are you up to?”
He held up the book. “Summer reading. Dinner with my mom later. Maybe indoor workout. Play some music. Consider returning a certain shoe later.”
He reached over to grab my sneaker. “What’s up with the scribbles, though?”
“Those are not scribbles.”
He made a face. “Are we talking about the same shoe?”
I sighed, longing for the other half of my white sneakers with colorfully inked words and drawings. “When the pandemic hit up north, we had a feeling that it wasn’t going to just end and life be normal after spring break. We knew it would hit us, too. Kinda saw it coming when school sent us home early for spring break and told us not to come back until further notice, especially when other states were going into quarantine. Anyway, my friends and I bought shoes before we got quarantined, and we signed them and wrote little doodles and pictures and…um…yeah, fine scribbles.”
I’d expected him to laugh or mock me for such a childish, girl thing to do. Instead he half smiled, the right corner of his lips arching upward in a perpetually adorable, dimple-inducing look. “That’s pretty awesome. Wish we’d thought of that. Was it your idea?”
“Yeah. Definitely got into trouble with my parents for ruining brand-new shoes,” I said. “So…what are you doing all summer, besides holding shoes hostage?”
“TikTok videos.”
“Of what? Playing the guitar?”
He seemed a little embarrassed. “Dancing.”
I gasped. “To what? I want to see.”
“Nope.”
“Um, yes. You can’t keep my shoe and not give anything in return.”
He tried to change the subject to summer quarantine hobbies, but I kept reeling the conversation back. He relented. And I spent the rest of the day watching, rewatching, and triple-watching some hilarious, amazing, and swoon-worthy videos.
I, of course, shared with Marly and Janice, who conceded with all the heart-eyed emojis that Guitar
