12. Corey

Iwake up to a message from Fallon that has me unlocking my phone and skipping past my other alerts. Since Anna shared her diagnosis, my thoughts have been consumed with fear and memories of the past, and exchanging messages with Fallon yesterday eased some of the stress that has had me in a vise.

Fallon: Were you at the beach for vacation?

Me: A quick weekend.

It was a fluke, a last-minute trip I took with Grey, Palmer, and Mila because my parents’ beach house had a picture window that needed replacing. The memory feels like it was a lifetime ago, as though everything prior to yesterday and Anna telling us the cancer might be back was on a different timeline.

I roll out of bed, scrubbing a hand over my face. I’d be making coffee at home right now, preparing to hit the gym with Palmer, Nolan, Hudson, and Grey. We have three and a half weeks until June 1st, marking the unofficial start of football season. I wish I were there, wish this was some horrible dream. Instead, I’m realizing that life might become my past.

Fallon: What are your hobbies? I know you’re an athlete, but what do you like to do outside of that?

Me: These days, I don’t have time for much else. I used to be into cycling and mountain climbing.

Fallon: Only sports? Not reading? Art? Travel? Anime? Something that brings out your inner geek?

Me: Inner geek?

Fallon: Tell me you have an inner geek, or we have to stop talking. I’ll begin so you can decide if you want to ghost...

Fallon: I love board games. My family and I play board games every Wednesday, and we’re super competitive. Geocaching would be my job if they paid me. And I have a secret obsession with the color pink.

Me: I like your inner nerd.

Fallon: You liked my tight black dress.

Me: It should be framed.

Me: I used to do logic puzzles and crosswords daily. My sister and I did them together.

Fallon: Do you just have one sister?

Me: And now a brother-in-law.

Fallon: I have three brothers.

Me: Older? Younger? Both?

Fallon: All older.

Me: Do you get along?

Fallon: I think I’m supposed to say no. That they’re annoying and nosy and overbearing (they are), but we get along really well. At least most of the time. What about you?

Me: My sister is the main reason I miss Colorado.

Fallon: Is Colorado where you’re from?

Me: It is.

Fallon: I’ve never been. Is it as cold as movies always make it look?

Me: I grew up in Vail, which is at a pretty high elevation, so yeah. It can get pretty cold. Do you like the cold?

Fallon: I think I would, but who knows? I’ve only experienced the singular snow days we occasionally get here. Do you like living in NC?

Me: It’s become home.

Fallon: Do you plan to stay in NC after graduating?

Me: Probably not, but anything could happen, right?

I pack my bags and then shower before heading to Anna’s. Although she and Vic have enough animals to constitute a small zoo and are remodeling their kitchen, I want to be close to them so I can ascertain my next steps.

Me: Think of what you want to exchange to tell me your last name.

Me: Telling you my last name would skip so many steps. I don’t even know what your favorite cereal is, or if you like pineapple on pizza, or what your thoughts are on the concept of time.

Dark-Haired Stranger: Considering I’ve seen you naked, I think it’s safe to say we can put the steps in whatever order we want.

I reread his message three times before turning back to my laptop and finalizing a detail on the menu so I can send off the proof.

“Why are you frowning?” Lexie asks, carrying two mugs of coffee as she steps into our apartment.

“He asked for my last name.”

“So give it to him and then ask for his.”

“We’re not at that stage.”

“What stage?” Lexie asks. “You’re not some fae princess. Names don’t hold power here in the human realm.”

“What have you been reading?” I accuse.

She grins as she hands me one of the steaming cups of coffee. “What harm comes from telling him your last name?”

“I like him, and a part of me is really freaked out because I was completely blind to all of Tobias’s red flags. I couldn’t see them, or maybe I just didn’t want to, and with this guy, he’s so flipping attractive and so damn good in the bedroom that I worry he could tell me he didn’t think women should hold political office and I’d find excuses for him. I don’t want to know his name. Not yet, because I don’t want to form more attachments. For right now, not knowing his name keeps that small anonymity factor and allows him to remain a stranger, so if he suddenly ghosts or becomes a jerk, it won’t be a big deal.”

Lexie lowers her brow as though doubting my explanation or possibly finding it foolish as she sits beside me. “Tobias was a manipulating little shit who put forth effort every time you backed off, long enough to lure you back in. Tell Daddario you want to take things slow, and if he doesn’t accept that, then we’ll go back to the beach to find a new hot rebound.” She squeezes my hand.

“How do I tell him I want to go slow?”

“Honestly.”

“How about that I’m a cynic, and Chrissy just set my recovery back another six years?”

She lifts a shoulder as though it’s a valid consideration. “The only way you’re going to find out if you can trust him with your feelings and emotions is to give him a shot.”

“I don’t want to give him my name, but I’m supposed to trust him with my emotions?”

Lexie shrugs again. “If it were me, I’d give him both.” She stands. “There’s a strawberry festival today in Oakdale, and your horoscope said you need to get outside, so we’re going. Get dressed. We’re leaving in twenty.” She heads for her bedroom.

I don’t argue. On this rare occasion, my horoscope sounds accurate. I do need to get outside and distract myself.

We spend the afternoon posing in ridiculous strawberry cutouts, sampling a dozen strawberry dishes from food booths, and going on every terrifyingly unstable carnival ride together. The sun and laughter pull me out of my thoughts, though Lexie attributes it to being outside in nature as my horoscope claimed was needed.

I wish I could stretch the day, but before either of us is ready, we’re heading back to Oleander Springs with a flat of strawberries that will likely spoil in the fridge, but we weren’t ready to part with the strawberry-perfumed air or the fun. We make mac ‘n’ cheese for dinner, and I don’t pick up my phone to message the dark-haired stranger until we finish watching Hocus Pocus for the millionth time and Lexie is asleep beside me.

Me: Honest answer: A lot of people have shown their true colors this year, and I’m a little jaded/apprehensive and have been seriously considering the role of collecting stray animals and living on a farm until the end of forever. So how about this? We spend the next 2 weeks casually texting. No rules. No expectations. At the end of 2 weeks, if you still want to know my last name or where I live, I’ll tell you. That way, neither of us is chasing a feeling.

Dark-Haired Stranger: Cocoa Pebbles is superior. I lived off it in middle school. I’ll eat anything on pizza. As for the concept of time, I’ve never given it much thought, but right now, I’m holding onto the dichotomy and counting down the hours of the next two weeks.

His answers to my previous questions have me swooning as I lie in bed, wondering if Lexie is right and he really is perfect, and fate did push us together.

We spend the next three hours texting about nothing consequential, but somehow it feels beyond substantial.