Page 6 of His Shy Girl

But it doesn’t feel so easy as I start to type. My fingers are stuttering over the keys like butterfingers. Typing. Deleting. Retyping. Finally, I hit send, feeling sick to my stomach as my nerves twist tighter. I’m such a freak. Normal people wouldn’t be this nervous.

Me:Sorry, I just thought Bren stood for Brenna or Brenda. My name is Willow, and the TE stands for Tyrant Exile.

And his RB doesn’t stand for Rogue Borg. It stands for running back. We both managed to assume the opposite.

Bren2025RB:My name is actually Brennon. Brennon Cartwright. And I’m guessing you thought RB stood for Rogue Borg?

Me:Yep

Sure did. Not only that, but I reconciled some of the funny things she—I meanhe—would say with having some dirty-talking cousins that she grew up around. I just pictured her being a little edgy and confident. But I was wrong. She’s a guy. Him calling me bro and dude sometimes is because that’s what guys do.

Bren2025RB:Hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me. Have to say, I think you’re even cooler now. Never met a girl who’s into football or is so badass at playing video games. Now, I’m dying to meet the Kanturian queen in person. I’ve got to know what the girl who’s got me aced in fantasy footballlooks like. LOL. Any chance you’d want to go out with me this weekend? We could go to Wild Wings and watch the Dallas game together.

And now he’s asking me out on a date. I can’t go out with him. I won’t be able to get a single word past my lips. Once he hears me try to speak, that cool opinion of me will turn into him thinking I’m a total loser. I’m clamming up in front of my screen right now. Face to face, I might faint. He’ll watch me spit my words out as I look like I’m having a seizure, and he’ll think I’m a Sputtering Carburetor just like all the other guys at my school. I don’t want his image of me to change. I want things to stay the same between us.

Me:Sorry. I’m busy this weekend. Hey, I need to log off. My mom is calling for me to come down.

Bren2025RB:Why do I get the feeling you’re giving me the brush-off?

Because I am.

Bren2025RB:You’ve become a really good friend, Willow. Just want you to know that your being a girl doesn’t change that for me. Hope it doesn’t change things for you.

It changes everything for me. He may be totally confident and smooth, but I feel so awkward now. I’m second-guessing every little word as I type back.

Me:I’m not trying to brush you off. I can’t get together this weekend because we’re going to my cousin’s house. And my mom just called me to come set the table for dinner. I’ve been hiding in my room all week playing video games with you, and now she’s demanding a family dinner. I’ll admit that I’m definitely shocked by this revelation, but that’s not why I have to log off.

My stomach plummets as I hit enter. I hate lying, and I just told three big fat ones. But I didn’t want to tell him that I need to go because I need a moment to wrap my head aroundeverything. To breathe through my nerves and calm down. It’s a lot to take in. For weeks, I’d been picturing a dark-haired girl with glasses, sitting behind her computer screen. I never pictured a big guy with muscles.

Bren2025RB:Will you be logging back on later?

No. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to log back on again. I wish I’d never learned the truth about him. I was blissfully happy in my ignorance. Now, I’m miserable in my reality.

Me:I’m not sure. I have a ton of homework tonight and a math test to study for. I may have to catch you tomorrow.

I’m hoping by then I’ll finally be able to speak to him without being so freaked out. Though, all nerves are pointing to doubt at the moment.

Bren2025RB:I’ll catch you tomorrow then. And in case you were curious, here’s a picture of me.

The image loads on my screen. Dark brown hair that’s a little unruly. Eyes nearly black, staring right at me, sending a shiver down my shoulders. My heart starts to race, and I have to look away, feeling intimidated by his good looks. I gather the courage to take another peek at him. He has a five o’clock shadow running along his strong jawline, which makes him look older than eighteen. His lips are parted into the slightest smile.

Brennon isn’t just good looking, he’s gorgeous. And the way he’s propped up against his headboard, shirtless, showing off his ripped abs, confidence exuding off him… It’s clear that he isn’t just popular, but probably the most gorgeous guy at his school. He’s better looking than any guy who goes to mine.

I close out the image, staring down at my keyboard as if the keys will burn me at the touch. My body is in flames. My nerves are strangling my thoughts.

Bren2025RB:Any chance you’ll send me a picture? I’m dying to put a face with the awesome girl I’ve been chatting with this entire time.

I see the message in the top corner of the screen, haunting me like a ghost. I’m not going to open it because then he’ll know I read it and blatantly chose to ignore him. The seconds tick by and my screensaver starts dancing across my monitor, just like the nerves dancing in my stomach. I swallow down my lump of confusion, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to handle this situation.

I don’t want to send him a picture because then he’ll be able to spot me on campus next year. I can picture it now. The smile splitting his handsome face when he recognizes me, but as soon as I try to speak, his lips will turn down, slowly morphing into a frown. The excitement in his eyes will then be replaced with that “what the fuck is wrong with her” look, or a look of disappointment. Guys think I’m pretty until I speak. And then, they can’t get away from me fast enough.

Bren2025RB:Did my face scare you off? Hoping your silence is only because you had to go help your mom and not because you think I’m just some dumb football jock now. Anyway, I’ll be logged on all night if you need to take a study break and want to join me in a mission. Hope you do, Willow.

Oh God. Reading his last sentence… It’s like I’m now sitting in front of a fireplace, feeling the warmth radiating off his words. They’re making me feel all hot inside. I don’t think he’s just some dumb jock. Over the last few weeks, he’s proven to be anything but dumb. He’s smart and quick-witted and fun to talk to. He gets my lingo and my stupid jokes. Not once did he strike me as being a jock. He never even struck me as being a guy. Which makes me feel like the dumb one.

I leave my computer alone, not wanting to accidentally open his message. I reach for my phone and start my search. As soon as I enter his name, an entire stream of videos come up. Most highlighting plays he made during a game. I click on one and watch him make an amazing catch, intercepting the ball with fiveseconds left on the clock. Running it straight to the end zone and scoring the winning touchdown. He does a little hip wiggle and the crowd goes wild. I bet all the girls at his school love him. All the cheerleaders on the sidelines are going crazy, chanting his name.Cartwright! Cartwright! Cartwright!

His last name suits him. Strong and sexy. I click on the next video. And then the next. His gorgeous face is the spotlight of so many game highlights. It looks like the Devils made a really good pick with him. His talent is all over the internet. I click on a newspaper article.

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