Page 15 of Cakewalk
I deleted it and typed again.
Me: Yes, I’m free tonight. Need help with something?
Ugh, no! That was terrible! That was clearly telling him, “You’re in the friend-zone, buddy.” Though it would be a less desperate response if it did turn out that all he wanted was help with the apartment.
I deleted it again. What would my sister have me write? I put on a haughty expression and typed as if I were her, answering for me.
Me: Yes. I’m hopelessly single, which means my night’s totally free and your odds of a one-night stand are through the roof, if that’s what you’re asking.
It was good to laugh every once in a while, right? But now it was time to compose my actual response.
As my thumb hovered over to the “delete” key, King Kong decided now was the opportune time to whip my ankle so hard it made me double over.
And I hit “send” instead.
“King Kong!” I gasped, then I desperately double-tapped the sent message, hoping to pull up an option to delete it. The option came up, and the relief I felt was borderline orgasmic, but that was when a check mark appeared below the message, signifying that it had been read.
And now that Griffin had read it, the option to delete it disappeared.
Fuck me.
But not in the fun way.
I considered putting my phone into the nearby blender and wondered just how difficult it’d be to assume a new identity in Costa Rica or wherever criminals escape to. Some place that didn’t have an extradition treaty with the US, because the message I accidentally sent was criminal as far as I was concerned. Poor Griffin was probably dying of secondhand embarrassment, or maybe he was laughing his ass off. But either way, he’d probably never see me the same way again.
Maybe I could tell him my sister stole my phone and sent that. I mean, Ididwrite it while I was role playing what Courtney would say for me.
King Kong whipped me again, and I yelled down at him, “All right! Jesus!” I set the plate of veggies down for him, then I ran off with my phone, heading for the sofa in the living room.
I sat down on the frayed piece of furniture, various pieces of fiber sticking out from King Kong’s claws. I guess it wasn’t just my life that the lizard left in tatters. “What do I say? Fuck!” After another moment of game planning, I decided it’d be best to blame my sister.
As I unlocked my phone to begin my damage control, a response from Griffin appeared.
Griffin: Okay, but I’ll have you know I’m not the type of girl who puts out unless I’ve been wined and dined first. That little Italian place down by the ocean seems nice. Interested?
Oh my God. He actually respondedpositivelyto that? Do I still tell him that was my sister? Or do I just take on this new, bold identity? Do I act like a brand new Jade who says what she wants and doesn’t care if she gets rejected?
Well, I had nothing to lose, now that I had lost all of my dignity.
Me: I love that restaurant. Meet you there?
Griffin: 7 sound good?
Seven? That was like midnight in Calhoon time.
Me: Works for me.
Griffin: Great. See you then.
I exhaled and tossed my phone to the side, my entire body deflating on the sofa.
I somehow blundered my way into a date with Griffin, the hottest bachelor in town. And maybe there was even an implied understanding that we might get it on afterward?
Sweet Jesus, I didn’t know how to react to that.
King Kong hopped on top of my chest, knocking the wind out of me, licking his chops as he eyed me again.
“No,” I groaned. “You’ve had plenty to eat, and you’ve caused enough trouble tonight.”
