You know what I call you? Guy. Because I don’t know your real name so I just made one up. I check my app constantly wondering if you’ve responded or sent me a new message. And I yell at myself for being so impatient. You have other things going on in your life. I’m sure you’re not refreshing your app every two minutes to see if I’ve gotten back to you.
I’m sorry about your mother. It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s mandatory that I say it. That’s what people do when they learn of a death. We apologize even if that’s not appropriate because we have to say something and that’s the only thing we can think of to say. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom. She’s my rock. She’s my inspiration. She’s my best friend. Losing her would destroy me.
Sometimes when I write to you, it’s just a string of thoughts in my head, and I’m afraid that it might scare you off. But you’re right, we can be unbridled through messages. We can say what we think without worrying about how the words make the other person feel because we can’t see each other’s reactions. And we can think about how we’re going to respond before we do. We can be open, and honest, and wild, and passionate, and free. Would I be like that with you in person? I don’t know. Do I want to find out?
Maybe.
Yes.
Definitely yes.
But (isn’t there always a but in life?) can we wait a bit?
With finals, finding a place to live, and starting a new job, I’m overwhelmed and terrified. I was afraid I’d have to move home until yesterday. I finally got an offer. It’s not what I was looking for, but it’s still in my field. Now I need to put the deposit on the apartment and move in. I’m just happy that I can get this place. It’s not close to the dream job, but it’s still close to the real job. And I want to live close so I can sleep in. LOL. Sorry, I like sleep and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
The bottom line is yes, I’d love to meet you. Can we plan something after graduation?
Zac’s fingers froze around his phone. He swallowed hard. She said yes. His heart raced, and it took effort not to email her back and tell her where he lived. She could come over right now. As much as that sounded like a good idea, he knew it was definitely not one. She wanted to wait until after graduation. He could be patient. She wanted to meet. That’s what mattered. He hit reply and responded that they would meet when she was ready. It was short, to the point, and fast. He almost added his phone number but decided against it. They’d kept up the game of anonymity for this long, why not wait a little longer? She replied just as quickly with an okay. He stared at the screen, at that one little word. It was on her, and he was fine with that. He could wait. The anticipation was thrilling and terrifying and annoying all at the same time.
Zac didn’t want to lose this good mood, but he had promised Ford.
He picked up his phone and found Macie’s number under the name ‘Chomper’.
It rang three times before she picked up with a very pleasant, “What?”
“We need to talk,” he said. No sense in beating around the bush. Another cliché he had looked up. Hunters still beat bushes to shoot birds flying out in this day and age. It was old and modern at the same time. He appreciated that. “About the shower.”
“Not showering with you, Zac. We’ve had this discussion before.” A sniffle punctuated her sentence.
Zac ran his hand down his face. She’d been crying. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” At least she hadn’t lost her defensive tone.
“You’ve been crying.”
She sighed loudly into the phone, probably so he would know she was irritated. Such a Macie thing to do. “Not that you care, but it’s a good thing.”
“Crying is a good thing? Since when?” He let the confusion fill his tone. Women didn’t make sense and he wondered if they ever would. He also wondered if his mystery girl cried a lot.
“Since forever. Ever heard of tears of joy?”
“Yes, but I never understood it.” Why bother to cry when you could just smile?
“You’d have to be able to feel joy to understand.” She sniffled again. “Women have no problem expressing it.”
Talk about an ice pick to his chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Men can express their feelings just fine, Macie.”
“Of course, how silly of me.” Her bite was back. He could almost see her nostrils flare. “Thank you for mansplaining. My silly little female mind just can’t comprehend such a thing.”
One of the things they fought about most was women versus men. Macie always had to throw her feminist weight behind everything. Zac understood most of where she came from—women made less money than men in the same field, women aren’t respected for their athletic ability, women aren’t allowed to stand on their own. He got that. But he also hated that she made him feel like crap about it. It wasn’t Zac’s fault. He supported Macie’s favorite causes on campus ‘Lafayette Liberties’ a women’s rights group, and donated to her technology drive for students who couldn’t afford laptops or tablets. Macie accused him of just throwing his money around.
“Can we not fight about this again?” He rubbed his forehead. How was he going to handle this for the next month?
“Fine. What do you want?”
“I told you, we need to talk about the shower.” Zac stood from his couch and stretched. “The invites are too ... girly for
