To the Beat of My Heart

Jaded

Boston. No shows till Monday. The weekend all to ourselves. So where do four guys find themselves on this auspicious Friday evening? The pub. 'Cause of course that's where you go. Do you know how many brain cells we've obliterated in the space of forty-eight hours? A lot, okay!

Kai scoffs at the beer the rest of us are cradling, content with his little assortment of shot glasses. He's not even buzzed yet. He's just his usual... Kai-self. That means being very loud, and very foul-mouthed. Clay laughs at all his jokes. Right pair, the both of 'em.

I tune them out, just as Ansel has tuned us out, staring deeply into his amber drink. I want to talk to him, but I also know the guy needs time. Time to... process shit. I dunno.

I keep my eyes down, on my phone, refreshing my email. Come on, Ava. You said this guy would get to me before the weekend. As of now, it is... I check the time on the top corner. Nine-fifty-six. So a few hours till the deadline. Do you really have to cut it so close, though, mate?

And then. PING. My phone fucking PINGS!

AAARGH! Sorry. Everyone's looking at me.

Guess, uh... guess my inward explosion was also outward.

"Just... never mind."

I open up the email and press my palm to my chest, feeling my heart hammer at a thousand miles-a-second. Shit. My tics are having a field day. I get the usual stares, but fuck them.

Okay, so I wouldn't say that to their faces. I settle for some serious side-eye volleyed back.

From: bulgogimonster@yahoo.com

To: flemingo69@gmail.com

Subject: Hey!!

Yo, flemingo. Noice. I like that. Top points for creativity. And 69? Hope this isn't your business email. ;P

Uh, maybe it is. So what?

I was thirteen. And that's what thirteen-year-olds do. Fart jokes, toilet humour of any kind... you discover sex. Your little brain is still piecing itself together and the internet is a curious place. You can't help but giggle over a stupid goshdarn number.

Fuck. I probably should have made a new email. I'm sure Ava was rolling her eyes.

Ava told me you were a super interesting guy, Fletcher, and I'm very trusting and gullible. Stupidly gullible. 

Hey, we have that in common. Sad face.

There, just handed you one big weakness. Now it's your turn.

Kidding. Kidding!

AAAAAAA. This is so dope. Like, can you believe we're doing this? Sorry to come off all dorky and OTT. Just so hyped to make a new friend.

"FUCK. OFF!" Kai roars, ripping me from the world of my new pen pal. Clay is showing him a video on his phone. Kai is wearing the biggest freaking grin. He looks halfway decent in this light. Ansel's face is aglow with the light of his phone, smiling with teeth. Everything is... normal. It's good. I like this.

I freaked, man. They told me if I didn't get back to you before the weekend, they'd kick me from our matchup, and I am not all about flunking on my first shot.

So, I'll wrap this up here. It's pretty obvi... shit, sorry obvious. Don't mind my stupid sayings. Anyway, pretty damn clear that I am super keen for this. I hope you are, too. Guess we should start to get to know each other, huh?