I’m still in the beanbag, with pins and needles up to my ankles, when I wake. The bottle of booze is half-empty next to me and my mouth tastes like cotton. I pick up my phone from where it’s fallen into my lap, hoping for a text from Cynnie.
Lindy: Where are your slides?
Fuck, it’s Friday. I’ve completely lost track of the days, lost in Cynnie. I haven’t done anything for class today. Not myhomework, not the slides, not any prep for the presentation at all.
I could tell Lindy I’m sick and put it off.
But that’s not me. Never has been.
I’ll have them to you in an hour. Sorry for the delay.
I text back and haul myself upstairs to the shower.
I send a dozen slides to Lindy with six minutes to spare, then spend an hour doing my homework, before I let myself check my phone again.
Still nothing from Cynnie.
I cave.
Hope you’re okay?
The dots don’t bounce. She doesn’t respond. I turn off my phone so I don’t check it every five minutes and pack up for class.
My presentation’s only supposed to be for fifteen minutes, but I spend the whole hour answering questions from my classmates and Lindy, who grins like a loon as he lobs question after question. I swear he prepared more for this than I did. At the end of the hour, he dismisses the class but waves at me to stay.
“You got time for nachos?”
I probably have all the time in the world.
“Yeah, just let me check my phone.”
“Waiting for a girl to call?” he asks with an evil lift to his grin.
“Something like that.” I pull my phone out of my bag. An email from Logan with an attachment, but nothing from Cynnie. “Yup, plenty of time for nachos.”
Lindy waits until we’re seated before he says, “She didn’t call.”
“No, she didn’t.” I shrug it off.
“And you’re fine.”
“Of course, I am.”
“That’s why you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
I run my hand over my face. My eyes were bloodshot in the mirror after my shower, and my beard needs a trim, but I didn’t think I lookedthatbad. “Thanks.”
“Come on, nachos fix everything.”
Nachos don’t fix everything, of course. But nachos and an hour of tech talk with a guy who really speaks my language make me feel a little better about being ghosted. Lindy suggests a project we could work on together, not that I need the extra credit, but it’s nice to have him treat me as an equal. I agree readily and he says he’ll shoot me over what he’s coded so far so I can play around with it. That gives me something to look forward to.
The text I get as I’m heading back to my apartment makes me feel even better.
Master Chief: I’m at Manny’s. You up for a run?
Mac’s finally arrived. Hot damn.
Whup your ass, old man.
