Page 59 of Shots Fired

I fucking miss her and hate even more that I don’t know when we’ll next meet up.

Sitting up on the bed, I curl my biceps and take a picture, sending it to her.

Doll: Was this supposed to impress me?

I burst out laughing.

Me: Brat. Yes, it absolutely was.

Doll: The visual only winds me up. I like to feel it.

Me: Funny you should say that since that’s why I was texting. When can I see you again?

Doll: You’re insatiable—you know that?

Me: Yes. Tomorrow night? We land back from Boston at lunchtime.

Doll: No can do.

Me: Girls’ night?

Doll: Chess club.

Fuck me. This girl and her brains.

Me: I have a confession.

Doll: Go on.

Me: When you were sick, I snooped a little bit and found your sudoku book.

Doll: Oh, well, that would explain why it wasn’t where I’d left it.

Doll: Did you try to solve one?

Me: Bahaha! Baby, I got an F in math. I couldn’t solve it, even with the answers you had written down.

Doll: Sudoku isn’t centered around maths; it involves the application of logic and deduction. I can teach you sometime if you’d like.

Me: Is that your kind of foreplay?

Doll: Problem-solving is my favorite thing.

I huff a laugh out into the empty hotel room. I wonder if she’ll be any good at fixing my broken heart when she shatters it into a million pieces.

Me: Sure, if you’ve got the patience of a saint, then go ahead and teach me how it works.

Doll: Okay, this is such fun! We can start at the beginner level and progress from there.

I don’t need to ask her to send me a picture to know how big her excitable grin is right now.

Me: How about I pick you up from chess club? Unless you think I’ll cramp your style?

Doll: And do what afterward?

Me: I thought you were supposed to be smart …

Doll: Fair point. Chess club is at Franklin Park and finishes at eight. Just stay in your car or something, and I’ll meet you outside.

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