Page 16 of Electric Blue Love
I was certain it was a test and that I was meant to respond, but holy crap I couldn’t even get my brain to function enough to make coherent thoughts let alone text.
“Deep breath in and let it out. Deep breath in and let it out,” I chanted quietly as my fingers punched out a response.
Me: Want some company?
I added a winking smiley and pressed send before I could talk myself out of it. His response was embarrassingly fast… and embarrassingly hurtful.
Court: No, never respond with direct questions. Direct questions require answers which takes all the fun out of it. Keep it vague and detached. Try again.
Me: Good thoughts, I hope.
Court: Perfect. That was much better.
Me: Hooray!
Court: Don’t get too excited that was tame.
Me: I’ll take my small win.
Court: Fair enough. Just remember, keep it vague, keep it classy (no vag shots), and only send what you’re comfortable with.
I wanted to ask him about his sexting experience. Did he sext women or did he just know all of this from his younger days? And had women actually texted him photos of their vagina? I decided to steal his advice and keep it vague.
Me: How did you learn all this?
Court: What do you really want to know 8B?
Of course, it was just like him to know I wasn’t being direct.
Me: Are you some sort of player or something? How do you know all this?
Court: Nah, I’m not a player. I just crush a lot.
Court: That was a rap song reference for you, young pup.
Me: I know who Big Pun is and you completely dodged that question and used the radio version. He doesn’t say crush.
Court: Nice catch. No, Bianca I’m not a player. I just prefer casual dating to relationships.
Me: Why?
His response took longer this time and I tried to guess what he’d say next but couldn’t come up with a single reason why he wouldn’t be attached. Court was an enigma. Handsome, successful, smart – how had he not been swooped up by some beautiful woman in the city?
Court: Relationships take a lot of work and I’ve been focused on my job. I don’t have time for another one.
It felt like a bullshit response, but I didn’t pry, and I didn’t text back. I didn’t text Todd either, but instead crawled into bed filled with thoughts of two men.
The next day after classes, I decided to attempt a deliberate run in. After changing into yoga pants and a fitted shirt, I threw on my sneakers and headed out the door. I wasn’t much of a runner or even a jogger, but I could power walk for days and I knew that Todd would be finishing his daily work out about the same time it would take to walk to the courts.
Responding to Todd’s text message today had felt wrong, like I’d waited too long but I didn’t want to wait until our next class together to bump into him either.
I put my earbuds in under the guise of a relaxing walk on a Tuesday afternoon. Fate was on my side and Todd was walking out of the multipurpose building that housed the courts as I came around the corner, putting me in his direct line of vision.
“Bianca, hey.” He lifted a hand and walked over, bypassing his car.
Removing an ear bud, I forced myself to keep my facial expression as unaffected as possible. “Hey, Todd. What a surprise. Just getting out of practice?”
“Yeah. What are you up to? Classes done for the day?”
