Page 21 of Booked on You
I stand there longer than I should, but when I walk away, I feel lighter than I did.
By the time I return inside the house, I’m smiling because I felt a spark, even if it’s too early to acknowledge it.
Willow watches me from the top of the stairs with the judgmental calm of a cat who knows I’m in over my head.
I return to the tower.
When I sit at my desk, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
I pull it out and open the message from an unknown number.
It’s a picture of a half-eaten sandwich. Next to it is the crumpled parchment, and the napkin is tossed sideways like it barely survived the first bite. In the corner is the edge of Scarlett’s thigh, her notebook, and the recorder. I program her into my contacts, then save it with a smile.
Scarlett
Evidence of excellence. 9.5/10. Lost half a point for no pickle.
I stare at the screen, exhale through my nose, and type back.
Ezra
This number is reserved for emergencies and sandwich feedback of a 9.8 or higher.
Three dots appear.
Scarlett
Aah. Is that the polite way of saying lose my number?
Ezra
Aren’t you under a deadline? I’m beginning to believe you can’t get enough of me.
Scarlett
You’re right. Thanks for the reminder.
I stare at her last text, wondering if another will come through. Then I grow some balls and text her.
Ezra
Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?
I lean on my elbow, staring at the phone, my thumb hovering over the screen like I should say more.
Scarlett
Sure. What time?
I let out a chuckle. She said yes. This is game over for us. I glance up at the clock. Suppertime is roughly five hours away.
Ezra
How’s seven-thirty-ish?
Scarlett
That’s perfect. Should I bring anything?
