“Girl, I think you can get locked up for those thoughts,” he warns.
Hope continues to giggle uncontrollably for another minute before gaining enough composure to reach over and squeeze my arm. “This’ll be good for you.”
“If it crashes and burns, do I get to say I told you so?”
“I’ll write it across my forehead in black magic marker for you,” she vows.
As my friends head for Hope’s car, I gather all the courage I can find and text Tucker before I talk myself out of it.
If I say yes, it doesn’t mean anything.
His answer is immediate.
Him: It means yes.
Me: But I’m not committing to anything beyond this one date.
Him: Kinda presumptuous, no? I only asked for one date.
I stare at my phone. Had I read this whole thing incorrectly? The guy talked about love at first sight, wanting to be married and have kids, and he only wants to see me one more time and fuck me?
Him: Kidding, darlin. I’m holding back the marriage proposal until the 3rd date. When?
Me: I’m bringing my friend Carin and u need to bring the hottest guy u know.
Him: I’m the hottest guy I know. Will look for 2nd hottest guy on campus. She have any preferences?
Me: Someone who knows how to use his tongue.
Him: Again, that’d be me. Not sure how I’ll find out how good the other guys are w/ their equipment. Not a topic that comes up a lot.
Me: That’s the price of my time.
Him: On it.
There’s a short delay, and then another message pops up.
Him: You won’t regret this.
*
I have the perfect date idea, Carin texts an hour later. It’s eleven and I’m getting ready for bed because I have to be up at four to sort mail. The text is followed up with a slightly blurry pic. I pinch and zoom until I manage to make out a few words.
Me: Paint night out? I have no artistic skills. Even my stick figures look terrible. U know this. U mocked my hangman once.
Her: That was NOT a hangman. That was…I mean, the arms shld come out from the side of the body, not the neck. Anyway this is EZ. It’s like a paint by numbers thing. We drink/paint/enjoy ourselves. If the date is crappy then u and I can drink ourselves into oblivion.
Me: Fine. When is it? I’m only available Sun, M, W, Thur.
Her: I know. It’s why I picked this, dummy. It’s every other Sunday, as in tomorrow night.
How would I know? The picture she sent is small and blurry and could say it’s a church group meeting on Saturday morning.
Me: I’ll see if T is available.
Her: Bet u he is.
I’m not taking that bet. Instead, I text Tucker.
Me: You in 4 some paint by numbers?
My phone dings the message alert just as I’m pulling on my sleep shirt and boxers.
Him: Is that like naked Twister?
Me: I have no clue.
I send him the picture. Maybe he can make some sense out of it, because I sure can’t.
Him: Was this taken with an actual camera or drawn by tiny leprechauns?
Me: Carin’s a scientist, not an artist. Btw did u find someone?
Him: Yes. My buddy Fitz is coming and b4 u ask, I have no idea re: his oral skills. But he’s hella smart, has a mean slapshot, and I’ve never heard any complaints.
I take a screenshot of that text and send it to Carin.
Me: Is this OK?
Her: Can I have a pic?
I text Tuck, Can she have a pic?
Him: Of what?
Dear God. This is a ridiculous game of actual telephone.
Me: Tucker says: of what?
Her: Face, abs, ass. No dick I take yet another screenshot and shoot that off to Tucker. While he considers the request, I wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I climb into bed, there’s a message waiting for me. A picture of a gorgeous dark-haired guy flipping Tucker off fills my screen.
Wow. It’s incredible how hot these Briar hockey players are. Is that a requirement of making the team? Be able to slap the puck a hundred miles an hour and also star in the calendar?
I forward the picture to Carin, who sends me a thumbs-up emoji in return. Then I text Tucker again.
Me: We’re good to go.
Him: Time/place? Srsly can’t read this thing.
Me: Tomorrow. 8 p.m. Carin says there’s booze.
Him: K
I’m about to put my phone away when three dots appear. And then disappear. And then re-appear again. Finally, the message comes through.
Him: Dick pics that bad?
I smother a giggle. That’s his question?
Me: Why? RU going to send me one?
Him: Feel like that may be a trick question. Do u want one?
Me: Depends on context. Random dick pics = no. Otherwise? I dunno. I haven’t gotten one that I’ve really liked. U’ve sent one? Or several?