Filed to story: Kissed by Claw and Fang
I laugh out loud, because who is this Zane? And how do I keep him around?
Me: Halloween and Alaska all rolled into one, huh?
Me: Color me impressed
There’s another long pause, but this time something tells me not to give up on Zane quite yet. That he isn’t not texting because he’s put down his phone but because he’s trying to figure out what to say next. Which…can you say mind-boggling? I can barely imagine a Zane who doesn’t know exactly what to do and say in any situation.
Finally my phone dings again.
Zane: You promised to tell me about your ankle
It’s not a great segue from the fun conversation we were just having, but I go with it, because the alternative is not answering, and I don’t want to do that. At least not yet.
Me: I don’t know. I’m just waking up. My uncle must have decided I don’t have to go to class again today.
Zane: I’d say lucky you, but…
Me: What, falling out of a tree not lucky enough for you?
Zane: Do you KNOW what lucky means?
The laugh hits me so unexpectedly that I nearly snort. Then slap a hand over my mouth in horrified amusement, even though there’s no one around to hear.
Me: I walked away, didn’t I?
Zane: eye roll emoji
Zane: Pretty sure I carried you away
Me: Oh. Right. Thanks again for that.
Zane: All the eye roll emojis
Now that he’s got me thinking about it, I’m curious how my ankle is, too. So I throw back the covers and try to climb out of bed-only to whimper the second I put any weight on my right foot. Well, that answers that. With the added problem that I really have to pee.
Zane: What are you going to do today?
Me: I think I’ll lie in bed and feel sorry for myself
Zane: Good times
Me: Yeah, well, turns out the ankle hurts a little bit
Zane: You ok?
Me: Of course
Me: brb
I use the promise of Advil to propel myself across the room to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my hands and grab two of the little round pills and a bottle of water before hobbling back to my bed. I force myself to take the pills before I pick my phone back up again, but it’s hard. I’m dying to know if Zane texted me back.
He didn’t. Which is cool, I tell myself. I mean. I’m the one who cut our conversation off so abruptly.
Me: I’m back
No answer.
Me: Sorry that took so long.
Still no answer.
Ugh. I blew it.
I’m pissed at myself for stopping our conversation. And just as angry for being pissed off. Zane showed me more of himself in the last fifteen minutes than he has since I got here. What do I have to be annoyed about that he stopped texting?
Absolutely nothing. I mean, the boy does have to go to class, after all.
Somehow, telling myself that only makes everything worse. Well, that and the fact that I’m starving, and the peanut butter is all the way across the room. Of course.
I lie back against my pillows and fire off a couple of messages to Heather. Then I check Snapchat and Instagram and even play a couple of rounds of
Pac-Man
-all while telling myself that I’m absolutely, positively not waiting for Zane to text again.
But eventually my stomach starts growling, and I toss my phone aside. A girl can’t live on peanut butter alone, even if right now I’m hungry enough to give it a try.
I start to hobble toward the fridge but get distracted halfway there by a knock on my door. For a second, just a second, I wonder if it might be Zane. Then common sense kicks in. It’s probably Uncle Finn coming to check on me and my bum ankle.
Except when I answer the door, it’s not Uncle Finn. And it’s not Zane, either. Instead, it’s a woman carrying a heavily loaded food tray.
“Ivy?” she asks as I step aside to let her in.