I was on a clean streak. My search history was in a weeks long vacancy of that gold medal earning performance. My mind was, well maybe not vacant, but at least severely less frequented by the thought of her, with the exception of the dreams. I had not left my house since I got back from the Ball and that was about two weeks ago. I had been doing everything I could to keep myself busy and if I kept this up for a couple months, I'd be in the best damn shape of my life. I turned off the treadmill and kept pace with it until I was able to jump off. My feet stepped to either side as a bead of sweat gathered and then dropped onto the belt below. I swung my leg over and hopped off grabbing a white towel from the stack and used it to wipe my face before slinging it around my neck. I quickly made my way out of the gym and climbed the stairs up to my kitchen. I then opened the fridge and pulled out a water before unscrewing the cap and taking a big gulp of the liquid. I glanced down at the counter noticing some mail and my heart nearly stopped when I saw the name on one.
Carter Castillo.
I approached the stack of letters like they could potentially contain a bomb, my heart and mind racing in equal parts as they often did when she was involved. I shakily reached out and grabbed the envelope staring at it as though it couldn't possibly be real. I turned it over and tugged at the corner before sliding in a finger and tearing it open. I gently took the letter and pulled it free, finding only a single sheet of paper. I unfolded it and held back a laugh as I saw scribbled in the messiest handwriting I'd ever seen.
In case you lost it, I know you have my number now, so I DARE you use it. (;
Her number was listed below and she had signed it bar girl. Every ounce of false pretensed self-control I had tricked myself into believing was gone in a flash. The memories of a thousand replays of the same dream swirling with the all too realistic and fresh memory of her eyes, her vanilla scent, her melodic laugh and the undeniable magnetic field that drew me to her even now when she was nowhere to be seen. Every cell of my being yearned for her, my mind, heart, and soul all in agreement that I was in fact the problem, not her. I let out a breath and dropped the letter onto the counter before I plucked my phone from the pocket of my shorts and unlocked it. I went into contacts and clicked her self prescribed nickname. I clicked the messages icon and felt goosebumps forming on my arms.
Me: Hi Bar Girl... calling in your dare I see.
Her response was almost immediate.
Bar Girl: I'm assuming you got my letter?
Me: Yes
Bar Girl: Did I type in the number wrong or was it something else?
Me: Craziest thing I totally just learned how to use a phone
Bar Girl: ...
I bit my lip and leaned against the counter.
Me: I'm sorry I didn't text you sooner.
Bar Girl: I felt a bit desperate sending a letter tbh... felt like I was one of your fangirls or some shit...
Me: I panicked. I'm sorry.
Bar Girl: Why did you panic?
I let out a sigh, why had I panicked? Maybe because I literally want to jump your bones every time I see you but accidentally start a fight and also apparently rumors about us dating!
I tapped my fingers on the counter trying to think of a response that I could actually send her.
Me: Did you see the article?
Bar Girl: Which one?
I groaned and went to the Safari app, searching it before copy and pasting the link into our messages. A few minutes passed and I sighed before locking my phone before putting it in my pocket. I then walked upstairs to my room to shower and change. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I nearly tripped on the top step as I frantically grabbed it and unlocked it to reveal her message.
YOU ARE READING
What's a Heart to a Soul
RomanceWhat's a heart to a soul? What's a memory to reality? What's lust to love? And what differentiates fact from fiction? How can we ever truly know love and confidently scream with all our being that we are sure that this, this is the one? As memories...