Caclass="underline" Is this all just a joke to you? A sorority prank?
Grey: Is WHAT a joke???
Caclass="underline" Sexy sexy beast? Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK, GREYSON?
Grey: WHY ARE YOU SO PISSED OFF?! CALM DOWN
Caclass="underline" You can’t say shit like that. It makes you sound like a goddamn…
Grey: A goddamn WHAT
Caclass="underline" Forget it. Just don’t say shit like that.
Grey: I will NOT forget it. Tell me what your freaking problem is.
Grey: And for the record, you overreacting jackass, I MEANT IT.
Caclass="underline" Oh.
Grey: Oh?
Grey: Hello? You there?
Grey: Cal?
Grey: Okay then.
Greyson
“I don’t understand. You tweeted that he was a sexy beast, and then he goes radio silence on you? That’s so messed up.”
I drum a number 2 pencil on the wooden table, and blow a puff of air at my bangs to move them out of my eyes. “I guess I don’t get it. I thought that maybe, when he kissed me, we were… I don’t know.”
“Becoming more than pen pals?”
“Yes. Because I felt that kiss everywhere, Mel. Everywhere. That wasn’t a kiss between two friends.”
Melody speaks slowly then, choosing her words carefully. “I mean, I know it’s a weird thing to ask, but do you think you scared him away?”
I give her a hard look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! I just wonder if he thought maybe you were… making fun of him? Lying?”
I ignore that she just called me a liar, but my mouth still gapes in indignation. “Making fun of him? Why would you even say that?”
“Well, jeez, Grey. Look at him. He isn’t winning any beauty contests.”
My mouth falls open even wider, and the rash on my chest shoots up my neck at a breakneck pace, coloring my cheeks, nose, and forehead. My face is flaming hot, which I bet it looks spectacular against my light blonde hair. “Melody! What the hell. I think he’s gorgeous!”
“Well, yeah—you do. But you didn’t think he was so hot when he showed up at the house. You think he’s hot because you’re finally getting to know him. That’s why you think he’s attractive; he’s grown on you. Everyone else, erm, not so much.”
“You—that’s so mean.” I stand abruptly, knocking a cup of pens over with a curse. Tears threaten to spill out of the corners of my eyes. I wipe them away angrily. “Not all of us want just want to date pretty frat boys.”
Melody sighs, her eyes pleading with me. “I’m sorry. That’s not… this is coming out all wrong.”
My bottom lip trembles.
“Grey.” Melody stands. “You’re beautiful. And sweet. And funny. Of course everyone expects you to hook up with some GQ model. Not some… Not a busted-up rugby player from SMU. I’m just trying to be honest.”
“I do not like you right now.”
“Grey, you don’t even know this guy.”
“Yes I do.” I cross my arms and stare out the window into the yard, tuning her out. Softly, I whisper, “I know enough.”
To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
From: grevkeller0143@state.edu
Subject: Please talk to me.
Calvin,
It’s been two days. Why are you shutting me out? I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you over reacted to the tweet, but I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends. I called you sexy and I meant it. I wasn’t making fun of you—how could you THINK that??? I thought we were becoming friends. I miss you. I miss my friend. Grey
To: grevkeller0143@state.edu
From: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
Subject: I’m an ass.
You’re right. I overreacted. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a complete douchenozzle, so can we just forget about it? I feel like a tool. And since we’re friends and I’m being honest, this is exactly how I would treat you if you were a dude. I’d give you the silent treatment until I got over myself. So you should feel pretty good about that. – Cal
To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
From: grevkeller0143@state.edu
Subject: Best Friends 4Eva
Cal,
Yes, I’ll forget about it, but… You know what, never mind—I’m just so relieved you emailed me back. I’ll keep this light hearted. After all, we hardly know each other. As for you treating me like one of your guy friends, well—I’m flattered. Kind of? Have you ever had a girl that’s a friend before? The distance between us certainly makes it easier to have that kind of relationship, yeah? I doubt I could manage to be friends friends if we were at the same school—if we were in the same town. Grey
To: grevkeller0143@state.edu
From: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
Subject: Huh?
Greyson, I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean.
To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
From: grevkeller0143@state.edu
Subject: Seriously?
Read between the lines, Calvin. And why are you emailing me this? Wouldn’t it be easier to text? Grey.
To: grevkeller0143@state.edu
From: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
Subject: Still don’t have a clue. Sorry.
Grey. I’m not texting because I had already composed the email. And last time I checked, I was a guy—and one that gets concussions on a regular basis. You need to spell it out for me. - Cal
To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu
From: grevkeller0143@state.edu
Subject: Forget I said anything.
Cal,
I’m not in the mood to explain myself. Maybe some other time.
Caclass="underline" This is going to get ridiculous if we don’t talk.
Grey: What’s going to get ridiculous?
Caclass="underline" You know what? Never mind. I’m not playing games with you.
Grey: Time. Out. Why are you being so stubborn about this? I don’t know what flipped your switch, but you need to explain it. Answer me, Calvin.