Page 61 of What I Like About You

…

11:25 AM

Seriously?

11:25 AM

I type and delete and type and delete. The amount of tension conveyed in a… Seriously?is nauseating. Every interaction between Nash and Kels is on the same page, whether light or serious.

It’s never like this.

Can we hang out? And by “hang out” I mean can you help me paint my room?

11:28 AM

I thought I’m supposed to be leaving you alone.

11:29 AM

Maybe you should ask Molly?

11:31 AM

a) It’s Shabbat.

11:33 AM

b) I want to hang out with you.

11:33 PM

Fifteen minutes pass without a new notification.

Thirty.

Forty-five.

I am in a staring contest with my phone. My cheeks flush with embarrassment even though I am one hundred percent alone in this ugly AF more-orange-by-the-minute bedroom. I feel like an idiot for texting Nash out of the blue like this.

The rejection stings more than I expect, even though I deserve it.

My phone battery is running on empty, so I plug it in and place it screen-down on the night table. I will not obsess over it. Instead, I drown out the endless loop of anxiety with a new Lola Daniels book, because romance novels are perfect escapism. I get lost in the world of hockey boys and skater girls—until a knock on my door snaps me out of it.

“Hal?” The door swings open and it’s Ollie, dressed head to toe in his Middleton Market uniform. Khakis, forest green polyester shirt, and a matching green visor. At fifteen, he’s legally only allowed to bag groceries, but he likes having money of his own as much as I do.

I’m not sure what Ollie needs from me before his shift, but he looks pretty freaked out. His mouth is a straight line and his eyes are all bugged out like I’ve never seen.

“Ol?”

He shuts the door behind him and presses his back against it.

When he speaks, his voice is low.

“Gramps asked me to come get you. Nash is in our living room?” Ollie’s voice goes up at the end like it’s a question.

The hockey boys and skater girls fall to the floor.

“What? Why?”

---