how to catch feelings

49

Saturday night saw the return of our Bachelor and wine extravaganza.

That is to say we streamed an old episode of The Bachelor on Damaris's laptop in the upstairs hallway while drinking cheap wine out of SOLO cups.

Exactly how I liked my Saturday nights.

I went on my phone to scroll mindlessly through social media, as one does, and my tipsy brain was drawn to the Messenger app.

Perhaps against my better judgment, I opened it and went into Cole's messages.

Quite a few had piled up since I muted him, enough that I had to scroll a little.

"Nat, come on, you know what I mean."

"It just seems like everything ends up in the paper. I don't want this to be one of those things."

"Look, I know you would handle it with sensitivity and respect. I know that. I know you knew Dax too. I'm sorry if I made it sound like I thought you were going to make a mess of it."

"Nat, you good?"

"I'm sorry about what I said about getting views. I'm really sorry. That was a low-blow and not cool."

"Can you text me back? I need to talk to you about something?"

"Did you talk to Jared?"

"Nat, we need to talk. Please text me back."

"Okay, if you're not going to text me back, I'm just going to hope you'll at least see this. I don't know what Jared said to you, but he's not exactly... IDK he's not exactly the golden boy he makes himself out to be. Does that make sense?"

"All I'm trying to say is to watch out around him. I've seen his act before."

I was in no state of mind to determine if Cole was being protective or if he was jealous. Then again, I wouldn't have been able to figure it out sober either.

"Are you reading Cole's texts?" Meg asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I dunno."

She took my phone, read the messages, and then passed it to Damaris, who then passed it back to me when she was finished.

"Sounds like he's jealous."

"I dunno."

"It's only an issue if you like Jared. Do you like Jared?"

"As a friend."

"Do you like Cole?"

"As a friend," I said again.

"So I guess that's that. Are you gonna text him back?"

"I dunno."

"How about you text him back, and we'll finish this episode and sing some Disney karaoke?"

"Okay." My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I wondered what to say. Finally I decided on saying, "Jared was just helping me out with a lead. Chill."

Cole must've seen me go online, because he responded almost immediately. "I'm sorry. Really. About everything. It wasn't cool."

"Okay."

"Can we talk?"

"I am drinking and I have to get up early in the morning for work."

"So that's a no."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"It's a no."

"Gotcha. Alright. Well, have fun drinking."

"Okay. Thnx." I turned my phone off and threw it aside.

***

It probably goes without saying that production was a nightmare. Not because of anything the editors did, but because of the raging headache I had.

For the record, TMJ, not a hangover.

By time we got to edits, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on the floor in a dark room and have the devil himself come run me through with a pitchfork.

The section editors gathered their things and left, leaving me and Jess.

It might not have been my best decision, but I rushed her through design checks and did a cursory last skim-through of my own.

"Can you please export the files and send them out?" I asked Jess. "My head is going to explode."

"Yeah, sure. I'll text you when they're in. You already did payroll?"

"Mmhm."

"Gotcha. Okay. Go take some Advil."

"That's the plan." I grabbed my water bottle and lanyard and made a run for it.

An Excedrin, some chicken nuggets, and a nap. That's all I wanted.

And that's what I got.

***

The headache had abated some when I woke up an hour later, but I still sent a text to the rest of the editors saying they were going to run the show tonight.

There was a brief panic, but I reminded them that they had all sat through dozens of meetings. They knew what to do. I trusted them wholeheartedly. Besides, they'd have to do it after I graduated.

I went downstairs to the living room, where the girls were studying.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty, how was production?"

"Hellish."

"We figured. Headache?"

"You bet."

"Sorry, pal, that sucks."

"Sure does. What have y'all been up to?"

"Just studying."

"Wow. Lame. Just kidding. I'm proud of you rats. I can't study to save my life."

"We know."

Yeah, they knew.

"Just gonna keep studying until bed?"

"No, we were going to take a break in a bit."

"Ah."

"Why? Did you want to do something?"

"Nah." I laid down on the couch and went on Tik Tok. Needed to get caught up on the bathroom rants and the gluing-craft-crap-on-my-face series.

It had maybe been fifteen minutes when I said, "You know, it's been a while since we went out to eat."

I heard their pencils stop.

"What, like Olive Garden?" Damaris asked. That girl would probably eat Olive Garden every day if she could.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Wait, don't you have a meeting at seven?"

"No. I told the others to take care of it. They know what they're doing."

"Alright, sure. Are we getting dressed up?"

"We can, if y'all feel like it."

Our simultaneous grimaces were enough to establish mutual agreement.

"How about we study until six, and then we'll get ready to go?" Damaris suggested.

I checked the time. It was only a little after four.

Ugh.

"I'ma go upstairs and watch a movie."

"Have fun."

"Right back atcha."

*** ***