I must be insane.
After hours of work, I stand and stretch my tense body and jump in the shower, so I can grab a quick bite to eat. I’m not really in the mood for leftovers or frozen pizza, and a walk outside would be nice to clear up the fog of adware, SEO, and bandwidth. I love what I do, but sometimes I need to take a step back before I start thinking as analytical as a computer does.
As I sit at a table in Meat Me, my favorite sub shop, I replay my conversation with Ally. Googling the time difference between Richmond and Madrid, I make a mental note of what she might be up to at seven in the evening and smirk to myself when I see the poll on her Instagram story asking people if she should have a beer or glass of wine. Forgoing the poll, I go straight into our chat, asking her straight up which one she went for, seeing as she posted the poll over an hour ago.
@AllyinSpain: <picture of wine glass>
@CamSteeleIT: Good choice although I’d go for the beer
@AllyinSpain: Typical guy
@CamSteeleIT: More than just a typical guy <wink emoji>
@AllyinSpain: <eye-roll emoji>
@CamSteeleIT: That’s not a denial tho
@AllyinSpain: That’s true but you’re still annoying
@CamSteeleIT: Annoying but sexy *waggles eyebrows*
@AllyinSpain: LOL jerk
@CamSteeleIT: I think you’re sexy too
@AllyinSpain: Camden…
@CamSteeleIT: Ally…
@CamSteeleIT: You’re just gonna ignore me? I can see when you read a message
@AllyinSpain: Ugh! You annoy me from afar too
@CamSteeleIT: Can’t help that you’ve been on my mind
I watch the typing bubbles appear and disappear, wondering if I pushed too far. I shift on my chair and take a bite of my sub while I wait for her to respond. This back and forth was fun until I’m on the receiving end of silence.
@AllyinSpain: What’s your deal?
@CamSteeleIT: Blunt and straight to the point huh?
@AllyinSpain: I’m not one to be caught in games
@CamSteeleIT: No games, sweetheart
@AllyinSpain: Really? How many girls have you called sweetheart before?
Busted.
@CamSteeleIT: You’re right. No games, Kiwi
@AllyinSpain: Kiwi? WTH?
@CamSteeleIT: Yeah cuz your eyes are as green as the inside of a kiwi
@AllyinSpain: …
@CamSteeleIT: So KIWI no games. You wanna know the truth?
@CamSteeleIT: I really can’t stop thinking about you. You’re on my mind at all times and it’s fucked up because you’re Easton’s little sister and he has no idea what we did
@AllyinSpain: First of all I’m not a kid. I’m a damn adult despite being his younger sister. Secondly he doesn’t have to know. It was one night and that’s it. No harm no foul
@CamSteeleIT: What if I don’t want it to only be one night?
I hold my breath as I wait for her response, waiting for the message that will follow the bubbles that never appear after she’s read it. Rejection doesn’t taste so good when you’re on the other end of it.
chapter 8
Allyson
I stare at my Instagram feed, and my eyes flicker to the small paper airplane icon where my messages are. One week I’ve avoided Camden’s message. He is insane. I’ve decided it. Who in their right mind thinks they want to go another round in sexyville when they live thousands of miles away from the other person? Crazy.
And Camden of all people? Puh-lease. As if he really hasn’t already been with a few other women these last five weeks. Things would get messier than an unsupervised toddler with a rainbow of permanent markers in a white room if anything more happened. I’m sure the only reason it isn’t messier than it already is is because Easton now lives in Everton, and Camden doesn’t see him every day.
And yet, after all these thoughts, I still think about his unanswered message. It’s best to leave some things to die in a social media abyss, and this is one of those things. The chances of me seeing Camden in the near future are slim. I’ll be home for the holidays when the time comes, but my mom and I will fly out to Everton for most of my vacation time.
I’ll be safe from the Camden charm. Who knows? Maybe by then, I’ll have met someone, and Camden will be the distant memory of my first one-night-stand.
A text message notification drops down on my screen, stealing my attention from my Instagram feed. Opening the message, I smile as I read Rubén’s message. He’s a co-worker and one of the people that has become a friend these last couple of years. He’s a riot to hang out with, and every time I’m with him, I’m guaranteed to laugh until I pee a little.
Typing back quickly, practicing my Spanish as I do so, I let him know that I’ll meet him at Nos, a bar near Plaza Mayor. I head to my room and get changed, swapping my sweats for a short, floral dress and sandals. Throwing my hair in a sleek ponytail, I grab my purse and lock up behind me, making the walk to the bar. My favorite thing about Spain is that you’ve got bars that serve drinks and tapas, and then you’ve got your club-type bars with music and drinks that have a more low-key vibe than a full-on club.
When I walk into Nos, I see Rubén, Vanesa, another co-worker, and Dawn, one of the girls that worked in our Richmond branch who also took the opportunity to work in Madrid. Rubén and Vanesa have been heaven-sent
