LJ Idol Week 19: Invitation
Her fingers were unsteady as she deftly tapped the keys on the smartphone, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz. The little vibrations are always comforting. Hey! I just received your e-vite! It sounds like such a good time! I think I can make it, but I would need a place to stay the night, since it is such a long drive! Anywhere you can recommend?!
Her eyes skimmed over the sentences, her face flushed. She always used too many exclamation points when she was nervous. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz. Hey, I just received your e-vite. It sounds like such a good time! I think I can make it, but I would need a place to stay the night, since it is such a long drive. Anywhere you can recommend?
She read it out loud and groaned softly to herself. Does she sound not that interested, or too interested? “I think I can make it,” sounds like she isn’t sure she wants to come, which is definitely not the case. “Anywhere you can recommend,” sounds like she desperately wants him to invite her to stay at his place. Which she does, but in a chill, I- want-you-to-want-this-too way, not in a flamboyantly coy way. She rapidly hits the backspace key. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
As a reflex she opened up Instagram. At the top, his icon was first, so automatically she clicked it to see the story. He was having coffee, and there were two mugs. She clicked his icon again and it redirected to his page. Her eyes wandered down all the familiar images. He hadn’t posted in weeks. She wondered if he is seeing someone, maybe that blonde who was in his story last week, or the brunette who has been replying to his tweets lately. She sighed, she tucked her hair behind her ear, she bit her lip. She opened the text box again. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
Hey, I just received your e-vite. It sounds like a good time! I can make it down that night, but it will be too late to head home afterward. Can I crash at your place? Breakfast on me!
She wanted to be on the other side of that coffee mug in his story. When they lived nearer, there were coffee dates. They never used the word “date.” It was always such a pleasure. Shy hugs hello, animated conversation over small tables with hands just inches apart, leisurely walks around the nearby park, their shoulders grazing, less shy hugs to say goodbye, and small talk while standing at the bumper of his car to avoid the looming departure. She went back to the unsent text message. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
Hello, friend. I just received your e-vite. It sounds like such a wonderful time! I will come; I just can’t drive back the same night because of the distance. Can I crash at your place? I’ll buy you a coffee in the morning; it’ll be like the old days.
She hit send before she could over-think it again. Her palms were sweaty. She waited. She waited. She waited.
She listened to the song that always reminded her of him, and she cleaned the kitchen. She put a pot of coffee on and listened to the album by one of his favorite bands. She sat out on the patio with her journal and wrote a little. She wondered if he got her last card. He never said anything about the poem. She wished people sent more letters through snail mail. She was starting to forget what his handwriting looked like. She picked up her phone and opened her e-mail to look at the e-vite again. It was in Arial font on a generic background. There was no context. There were no telltale signs; the slant of a word, the spacing of the words, the pressure of the pen on the page. Her stomach flipped. She put down her phone.
What if he didn’t even mean to send her this e-vite? What if he just casually sent it out to all e-mail contacts, thoughtlessly, without any care? What if he feels obligated to invite her to stay at his house now that she sent that text? What if it’s awkward once she’s there?!
Her phone dinged. Her heart leaped to her throat. She quickly picked up her phone to read his reply.
It was an e-mail notification. Petco is having a major sale on dog food. She does not own a dog. She opened her settings to change the notification noise to something different than her text message notification. She sighed. She put down her phone. She finished her coffee. She closed her notebook. She picked up her phone. She stared at all the little icons vacantly.
She opened Twitter. The brunette was replying again.
***
If you liked this story and would like to read the other entries and vote, you can go here:
http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/1019025.html
The poll closes Thursday, June 1st at 9pm EDT
Her eyes skimmed over the sentences, her face flushed. She always used too many exclamation points when she was nervous. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz. Hey, I just received your e-vite. It sounds like such a good time! I think I can make it, but I would need a place to stay the night, since it is such a long drive. Anywhere you can recommend?
She read it out loud and groaned softly to herself. Does she sound not that interested, or too interested? “I think I can make it,” sounds like she isn’t sure she wants to come, which is definitely not the case. “Anywhere you can recommend,” sounds like she desperately wants him to invite her to stay at his place. Which she does, but in a chill, I- want-you-to-want-this-too way, not in a flamboyantly coy way. She rapidly hits the backspace key. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
As a reflex she opened up Instagram. At the top, his icon was first, so automatically she clicked it to see the story. He was having coffee, and there were two mugs. She clicked his icon again and it redirected to his page. Her eyes wandered down all the familiar images. He hadn’t posted in weeks. She wondered if he is seeing someone, maybe that blonde who was in his story last week, or the brunette who has been replying to his tweets lately. She sighed, she tucked her hair behind her ear, she bit her lip. She opened the text box again. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
Hey, I just received your e-vite. It sounds like a good time! I can make it down that night, but it will be too late to head home afterward. Can I crash at your place? Breakfast on me!
She wanted to be on the other side of that coffee mug in his story. When they lived nearer, there were coffee dates. They never used the word “date.” It was always such a pleasure. Shy hugs hello, animated conversation over small tables with hands just inches apart, leisurely walks around the nearby park, their shoulders grazing, less shy hugs to say goodbye, and small talk while standing at the bumper of his car to avoid the looming departure. She went back to the unsent text message. bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz, bzz.
Hello, friend. I just received your e-vite. It sounds like such a wonderful time! I will come; I just can’t drive back the same night because of the distance. Can I crash at your place? I’ll buy you a coffee in the morning; it’ll be like the old days.
She hit send before she could over-think it again. Her palms were sweaty. She waited. She waited. She waited.
She listened to the song that always reminded her of him, and she cleaned the kitchen. She put a pot of coffee on and listened to the album by one of his favorite bands. She sat out on the patio with her journal and wrote a little. She wondered if he got her last card. He never said anything about the poem. She wished people sent more letters through snail mail. She was starting to forget what his handwriting looked like. She picked up her phone and opened her e-mail to look at the e-vite again. It was in Arial font on a generic background. There was no context. There were no telltale signs; the slant of a word, the spacing of the words, the pressure of the pen on the page. Her stomach flipped. She put down her phone.
What if he didn’t even mean to send her this e-vite? What if he just casually sent it out to all e-mail contacts, thoughtlessly, without any care? What if he feels obligated to invite her to stay at his house now that she sent that text? What if it’s awkward once she’s there?!
Her phone dinged. Her heart leaped to her throat. She quickly picked up her phone to read his reply.
It was an e-mail notification. Petco is having a major sale on dog food. She does not own a dog. She opened her settings to change the notification noise to something different than her text message notification. She sighed. She put down her phone. She finished her coffee. She closed her notebook. She picked up her phone. She stared at all the little icons vacantly.
She opened Twitter. The brunette was replying again.
***
If you liked this story and would like to read the other entries and vote, you can go here:
http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/1019025.html
The poll closes Thursday, June 1st at 9pm EDT