Page 83 of Just My Type
Hannah
Even if it’s not for real?
Me
Hannah, there isn’t one single thing between us that isn’t real.
Hannah
Is it weird that I just saw you this morning and I kind of miss you?
My heart thuds painfully in my chest at her last message, my arms aching to get around her as I wonder how to respond to that. SayingI miss you even when you’re sitting in the same room as mesounds dramatic as fuck, even though it’s the truest thing in the world. I’m still wrestling with what to say when my phone dings again.
Hannah
Cece just handed me another drink, so I’m pretty sure I’ll see you never because my legs don’t work anymore. I live in this couch now.
Me
Live it up, baby. I’ll come pick you up and carry you home later.
Hannah
Whose home?
That painful thud again. The desperate need to tell her it doesn’t matter whose home because her home is with me.
Me
Your apartment. The place with 400 bags of Twizzlers, a lifetime supply of Sprite, an entire wall of books, and a desk where you sit and write magic.
Hannah
It’s a pretty good place. Will you knock on the ceiling before you go to sleep? I like it when you do that.
Me
No need to knock on the ceiling if I’m sleeping right next to you.
Hannah
You’ll stay?
I rub a hand over my heart at the thought that she would still need to ask that question. At the desperate need I have to tell her that I want to stay every night. That I never want to leave. That the idea of her leaving has a gnawing ache clawing at my chest.
Me
Try and stop me.
“Put the damn phone down. No texting girls on guys night.” Cooper slaps my shoulder and sets a beer bottle down in front of me.
“What about them?” I ask, gesturing to Jordan and Elliot on the other side of the high-top table where we all sit, faces buried in their phones.
Cooper glances over and scowls. “No. No way. No fucking phones. Give them to me.” He grabs Jordan’s phone with one hand and Elliot’s with the other, smirking at them when they protest. “Here, Dad, you take them. You’re the only trustworthy one here.”
He gives the phones to my dad and then holds a hand under my nose. “Give it.”
“Why me? I put it away when you asked me to.”
