Page 27 of Hot Girl Summer

Tears well in my eyes, and my attempt to blink them back proves futile.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I know, but I want to.”

We sit side by side, talking about nothing in particular and laughing like we used to until Kiki finishes every last morsel from her plate. It’s a slow process, and a tiny amount by anyone’s standards, but she’s eaten all of it.

“I’m so proud of you,” I say, embracing Kiki in a hug. I never want to let go. “I’ll see you soon.”

Chapter Seven

Onthissamesummerevening, I manage to fall down the proverbial rabbit hole of the Myers-Briggs type personality indicator while laying in bed, and I spend far too much time debating with my internal Summer as to whether I should slide into Danny’s DMs with the results.

I draft countless messages, and delete every single one. He probably isn’t interested, anyway. After a lot of second-guessing, I go for it, opting for something short and simple.

Sophia: Straddling the line between INFP and ENFP.

Again, I mull one kiss at the end, two, or none. In the end I opt for one. I sign a kiss at the end of every text I send; why should it be any different for him?

My finger hovers over the little blue arrow icon. For something that shouldn’t matter, I sure am overanalysing the shit out of it. I hit send, and a little while later, my phone chimes with his response.

Danny: You can’t be both. Pick one.

Sophia: It’s not that simple.

Danny: Go with the one that feels most natural to you.

After further research and deliberation, I make a decision, figuring that most likely, I’m an introvert. Correction: Sophia is an introvert; Summer is an extrovert.

Sophia: INFP.

Danny: Good girl.

Sophia: I’m not a dog.

Danny: Shit, I’m sorry. Slip of the finger.

My mind wanders to the times in recent memory when I’ve admired his hands, and I can’t help but imagine those fingers slipping somewhere else. Heat rises through my body, turning my cheeks crimson.

Danny: Fun fact: human personalities can always be attributed to that of our canine counterparts.

Smartass.

Three grey dots continue to bounce on the screen.

Danny: Stop rolling your eyes.

Sophia: I’m not.

I am.

Danny: According to Professor Google, the Cavalier King Charles matches the INFP personality type.

Sophia: I can’t believe you just likened me to a dog.

Danny: I happen to have a soft spot for Cavs.

A lazy smile spreads across my face.

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