1
Reagan
Cancer: Today you might feel overwhelmed. Get over it. Seriously. Everyone is overwhelmed these days. Don’t stress or make any major decisions. Practice self-care, meditate, and reserve energy for exciting things coming later this week. You’ve got this!
Few things are scarier than that moment when you wake up hungover and the events of the night before wash over you with sober clarity.
My stomach twists and turns, and it isn’t the bottle of wine I consumed late last night with Ginny. Though, it probably isn’t helping. Neither is the lack of sleep.
We drank, laughed, crafted elaborate and daring plans, as one does when they’re drunk, until our late night crept into the very early hours of the morning.
I sit up in my bed and squeeze my eyes closed. My head pounds.
Flakes of gold glitter dot my bedspread. Construction paper and markers are tossed haphazardly around the floor and on my desk. Several prototypes have also been discarded around the room. Hearts of varying sizes in six different shades of red. It’s like the Valentine’s Day card aisle and a Michael’s store had a baby, and that baby threw up all over my room. Never underestimate the ingenuity of two girls after a bottle of wine.
Oh no. No, no, no, no.
No more online dating. At least the guy from last night hadn’t been fifteen years older than his profile stated. What can I say? My standards are low, expectations even lower, thanks to several dates that ranged from boring to flat-out cringe-worthy. I’m giving up on dating, focusing on my friendships or whatever cliché thing people say when they cannot go on one more bad date. Besides, my friends kick ass. Case in point, last night. Ginny is always a blast, but after another failed date, my friend really came through for me, showing up within the hour ready to console me with wine and ice cream.
I really should have known better than to get out of bed yesterday. My horoscope said I should look for the good in the worst situations. The good of last night’s date—well, I’ll figure that out when my head stops throbbing.
The apartment is quiet as I walk out of my room to the kitchen. My roommate Dakota is already at class. If she’d been around last night, she would have stopped us. Damn her busy schedule this semester, working and taking eighteen credits. She’s the rational one in our friendship trio. Ginny is the optimist, I’m the dreamer, and Dakota is our dose of reality.
I find my phone buried in the couch cushions and call Ginny. I need a little of that optimism right now.
“Good morning,” she answers. Her voice is scratchy and less bubbly than normal.
“Are you at the guys’ apartment?” I peek out of the front door across the breezeway to our neighbor’s door.
“No. I went back to my dorm when Heath left for conditioning this morning.”
I check the time. “How long before it’s over?”
“They should be finishing up now. Sometimes they go a little over. Why?”
“Why? Seriously, why?”
“Uhh...”
“The note,” I whisper-screech.
She’s still silent on the other end. Maybe I dreamed the whole thing. Nope, I’m not that lucky.
“I wrote Adam a letter last night. Heart-shaped and covered in glitter. Ringing any bells yet?”
“Ooooh. I forgot about that,” she says like I didn’t just tell her about my most embarrassing moment in recent memory. “I mean, I remember now, but I’d completely forgotten. What did he say?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. I’m hoping that he hasn’t found it. If he has, I’m moving and changing my name.” My skin goes clammy, and I take several deep breaths through my nose.
“So dramatic.”
Seriously, I don’t think she understands how bad this is. I just told a man I like him via a drunken craft project. Nothing makes a man fall harder than a homemade secret admirer letter. Groan.
“I’m going over there to grab it before he comes back.”
“Why? I thought you were ready to tell him how you feel.”
“Do you really think a red heart cut out of construction paper with glitter is the way I should do that?”
She giggles. “We were going for fun and heartfelt. My brother is a romantic.”
“He’s also a twenty-one-year-old man. I don’t think bedazzling the sentiment was my best-laid plan.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
“Well, when I decide to tell you how much I like you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I prefer chocolates.”
“Helpful.”
“What if he’s already seen it?” she asks.
“Then I’ll send a postcard when I get settled in my new town. I have to go.”
“Relax. If he saw it, then he finally knows, and if not, then we’ll figure out another way to tell him. You have to tell him.”
“Promise me you’ll never let me craft for a man again.”
“I can’t promise that. Two glasses of wine and my judgment goes right out the window.”
“Again, helpful.”
She laughs into the phone. “Text me and let me know how it goes.”
After saying our goodbyes, I toss my phone back on the couch and cross over to the apartment where Adam, Heath, and Rhett live. I try the door, finding it thankfully open.
The living room is empty and quiet as I rush toward Adam’s room. Their apartment has a similar setup to mine and Dakota’s place with bedrooms on either side of the living area. Heath and Rhett are on one side and Adam on the other. I glance over my shoulder toward the hallway that leads to the other bedrooms to make sure Heath or Rhett aren’t home.
As I get near the closed bathroom door, I hear the shower going. Crap! He’s here.
My heart races as I hurry into Adam’s room. His scent temporarily stops me in my tracks. Old Spice deodorant and Calvin Klein cologne. I’m not some sort of creeper; it’s just that he’s worn both as long as I’ve known him. There are always at least two different scents of the deodorant on the vanity in the bathroom right next to the cologne, Obsession, which stuck with me for obvious reasons.
The next thing that causes me to freeze is his bed. His white sheets are rumpled, covers thrown back. My imagination runs away from me creating vivid and amazing scenarios that include the two of us wrapped up in those sheets. Sweaty, but like that glowy, dewy look, not gross sweat.
My crush on Adam knows no respectability. For the past two years, I’ve had it bad for my neighbor. He’s just… everything. Smart and sweet, caring, protective.
He could easily be a conceited jerk. I mean, the guy is seriously hot. He’s the captain of the Valley University hockey team, and he’s ridiculously smart. Like straight As, premed smart. But he’s not conceited or a jerk. Sure, he’s a bit of a playboy. He jumps from girl to girl, but not the same way his friends do. Adam is a relationship guy. He goes all-in with every girl. Those relationships just don’t seem to last very long. He was with his last girlfriend for just over three months.
Three very long, heartbreaking months. For me, at least.
Giving my head a shake, I scan the room for the note. We slid it through the crack at the bottom of the door sometime very early this morning. A vision of Ginny and me on all fours, giggling and shushing one another, as we pushed my heart-shaped confession through to the other side makes me wince. What the hell was I thinking?