paper rings (l.h.)

4

"Don't think about it," my Mom used to whisper to me growing up. She had a sixth sense I think, and growing up I feared she could read my mind. She always knew when my worst days were, and when a joke made on the TV reminded me of it. It sent me into a spiral growing up. "Don't think about it, honey."

And so that's what I did.

I snuck out the back door once my Grandma had been feed and was tucked peacefully in her bed, gentle snores filling the entire house as my footsteps inched towards the back door. I pulled it open quickly, cringing at the loud hiss that came from it as it closed, and I brought myself on my perch on the rail. Although the house was asleep, the sky was not. It was just hovering above the horizon as I made my escape outside. I almost missed it. I crack my book open to the bookmark I had placed as my shift ended. But as I find the post mark I had stuck at the top of the page, written at the bottom was:

in case you ever needed it ;)
514-914-2426
Luke

I run my fingers across the post it he had somehow infiltrated when I wasn't looking. I scoff when I begin to realize I had something like a fluttery sensation in my gut, one I hadn't felt in years. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket, dialing the number before texting:

Why do you think I'd ever want your number?

I smirk as I lower the phone down from my face after rereading the message a thousand times, praying that he has a sense of humor. I still had his voice ringing in my ears from yesterday. Carefully, I place the post-it between the cover and the first page, as I begin to read where I had left off.

It had felt like hours, but it only took him a few seconds to respond. I grabbed my phone from where it laid on my lap faster than I'd care to admit. His text across my screen read:

For work. In case you needed someone to cover you or vice-versa. I thought a post-it between the cover of your book would be appropriate for that. Was I mistaken?

I feel my heart race as I can sense the smile that was probably painted across his face as he sent that. I could be delusional, thinking this man was flirting with me. But maybe I was overthinking it all. Something in me said it was genuine.

I think before I respond, suddenly I find myself settling on:

My bad. I thought you were asking for something else.

Luke responds quickly.

Maybe I was.

I smirk at the confirmation I had sought for. I delete my message a thousand times before sending it. But I could hear my Grandma's snores from all the way down here. The stove was off, so were all the lights. The kitchen was clean, the laundry was done. I am an adult, and as I felt my stomach flip I tried to talk myself out of dropping everything and throwing my phone into a lake.

And what is that?

My heart stopped as I asked this, I felt as if there was only one answer I could receive. It didn't scare me like it used to, now that I can separate wanted affection from unwanted affection. It took me a while to be able to do that. My last relationship got me halfway there. It had been a while, but I had grown a lot since then. If he wanted it, I would not say no.

Do you have plans tomorrow?

I let out a shaky breath.

I do not.

Would you want to grab coffee then?

My heart skips a beat yet again. I feel like I could fall off of this rail. But before I am able to respond, he sends another text.

Before work. I could pick you up if you'd like. I'd hate to see you ride home in the heat.

Alright. I give in. But I don't have work tomorrow.

I don't either. Just coffee then? At ten?

Ten works, I feel my cheeks grow red at the thought of someone thinking of me romantically. It had been so long since I felt what Luke had caused, the butterflies were there since yesterday. I just wasn't sure that they were warranted. I'm looking forward to it. Goodnight, Luke.

Goodnight, Mary. Sleep well.

And I placed my phone beneath my book, fighting the urge to find a way to strike up another conversation with the stranger on the other side. But I don't, although I like to daydream about what he might say. His eyes were so blue, I wonder if the glittered like that all the time.

I went to bed not too long after, since my mind was far too busy on the possibilities of tomorrow. I hold my face in my hands as I sit on the edge of the railing, trying to get over the jitters that come far too often nowadays.