Greenline

3

The Beginnings of Infatuation

To begin with, I had just sent Isaac a text with my name so that he could save my number in his phone. By that same evening on Friday, our responses were at most fifteen minutes apart and I was struggling to empty the dishwasher between messages that had me chuckling at my screen.

I felt a strange excitement that I wasn't familiar with every single time my phone's notification light flashed and it was revealed to be another text from the boy I had met in the diner. Even when I didn't have much of anything to say, I still found myself sending off something so that I would receive a reply.

At one point, he asked me if I wanted to tell him about my late best friend. For once, I did not shy away. I blabbed to him about a million things he probably didn't want to hear; how Carter beat me at every video game we'd ever played, how he always seemed to be able to find change on the cleanest street corners, how he had the guts to ask out the girl he had a huge crush on last year. It hurt to share. I suddenly felt bad for thinking it was an exaggeration to say one felt like their chest had been torn open, sewn back together, and ripped apart once again. Because that was exactly what remembering someone I had hardly accepted was gone felt like.

I apologized to Isaac for the obvious emotional toll of the issue. He apologized for bringing it up. I surprised both of us when I instead thanked him for doing so. It wasn't as though my parents hadn't tried, but something felt safer about talking to this barely-more-than-stranger. As if to shoulder the burden in between pictures and links, Isaac tempted me with an explanation of why he didn't consider himself a "regular kid", and why he did not go to the local school. He revealed that he was too sick, although he refused to tell me what it was.

I was glued to my phone whenever we struck up another conversation. I'd almost had it taken away during a chemistry lab because I couldn't ignore its vibrations. Even the danger of forgetting whether to put acid into water or the other way around could barely keep me away from the device.

When Isaac called me for the first time, my heart felt like it was going to escape from my chest. And for the first time in a long time, this was not a terrible thing. I think my voice even cracked when I answered the phone. It took us a few moments to find the pace we had kept up in writing. Pretty soon, I was perched comfortably at the end of my bed while an ever present grin strained my cheeks. I didn't fall asleep until the next morning, when the sun was just beginning to crest over the tree-spiked horizon.

We finally made plans to meet again. It was the most excitement I'd had for what the future held since I lost my best friend.