answer to what?
Playing dumb was my only out.
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:17 a.m.
MFRyker: You know, I’m not gonna make you answer because I know you’ve checked it out up close and personal. Fuck. I can’t wait to get up close and personal with you again
God. I’d be willing to bet Mrs. B and her husband’s flirting never got this graphic. I sat staring at his message not knowing what to say. Did I say I couldn’t wait either only to find out I was still just a hookup? Did I tell him he’d have to work for it first?
Man, I sucked at this so bad.
Instead of answering, I let time run out before texting him back, coward that I was.
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:27 a.m.
Me: I’ve really got to go. Good luck! Let me know how you do! <3
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:27 a.m.
MFRyker: Coward… Gonna call tonight at 11. Be ready
Be ready? What’d that mean? I was definitely afraid to find out.
~*~*~*~
I hate when people give you a time for something because when the time passes, you get all nervous and jumpy wondering if they forgot or they were just joking or they were setting you up to make you look like an idiot, and then each minute past the time takes an hour to go by.
All these things were running through my mind that night as I lay in bed when I looked at my phone for the thousandth time.
11:08 p.m.
Now to figure out which of the aforementioned Ryker was pulling. All three worked but I hoped it was option four: He’d been so tired from competing he’d fallen asleep.
At 11:11 p.m. I decided I didn’t care anymore. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d played me and I was the fool who’d fallen for it.
11:16 p.m. and I was pissed for even checking my phone again.
By 11:21 p.m. I was done. My feelings were hurt and I knew if I checked my fucking phone again I’d probably start crying. I turned off the ringer and put it on my nightstand and just as I turned to go to sleep, my phone started buzzing.
Shit.
I can’t explain what went on in my head (and stupid heart) when I saw MFRyker Calling on the screen. Excitement. Anger. Elation. Relief.
I slid my finger across the screen and answered, “Hello?”
“Hey. Sorry I’m late. Fuckin’ Martinez took for fuckin’ ever to get out of the locker room then we stopped and ate then Coach had a meeting in his hotel room. I just got out.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
“Where are you?”
“In bed,” I answered which made me shiver for some reason.
“Mmm… good.”
I could hear talking in the background. “Where are you?”
“In my hotel room. Rooks, my roommate, is staying in his girlfriend’s room.” Ah. The talking was the TV.
“Isn’t that against the rules?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. Only if he gets caught, though.”
“Oh. So how’d you do today?”
“Pinned my opponent in the second period. He was pissed too. All-American last two years, thought he was the shit. You should’ve seen the look on his face when the ref blew the whistle. Priceless.”
I laughed. “I’ll bet. Good for you, Ryker. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Francesca.”
“Um, I don’t really understand wrestling since I was always playing basketball, so don’t think I’m dumb if I ask the wrong questions.”
“I’d never think you’re dumb. Ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.”
“Okay. So do you wrestle again tomorrow?”
“No, not until Thursday then again on Saturday. This is some tri-state thing that we do every year. Washington, Oregon, Idaho. This year we’re in Portland. Last year it was at home. Year before it was in Boise. We stay the week and all three schools compete against each other.”
“That sounds like a good idea but I’ll bet you’re tired when you get back,” I said.
“It’s tiring just like a tournament but not too bad. We’ve got managers who do all our laundry and we get fed, so we’ve got it pretty good.”
“What hotel are you staying at?”
“The Radisson which is pretty
Playing dumb was my only out.
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:17 a.m.
MFRyker: You know, I’m not gonna make you answer because I know you’ve checked it out up close and personal. Fuck. I can’t wait to get up close and personal with you again
God. I’d be willing to bet Mrs. B and her husband’s flirting never got this graphic. I sat staring at his message not knowing what to say. Did I say I couldn’t wait either only to find out I was still just a hookup? Did I tell him he’d have to work for it first?
Man, I sucked at this so bad.
Instead of answering, I let time run out before texting him back, coward that I was.
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:27 a.m.
Me: I’ve really got to go. Good luck! Let me know how you do! <3
Text Message—Tues, Jan 20, 11:27 a.m.
MFRyker: Coward… Gonna call tonight at 11. Be ready
Be ready? What’d that mean? I was definitely afraid to find out.
~*~*~*~
I hate when people give you a time for something because when the time passes, you get all nervous and jumpy wondering if they forgot or they were just joking or they were setting you up to make you look like an idiot, and then each minute past the time takes an hour to go by.
All these things were running through my mind that night as I lay in bed when I looked at my phone for the thousandth time.
11:08 p.m.
Now to figure out which of the aforementioned Ryker was pulling. All three worked but I hoped it was option four: He’d been so tired from competing he’d fallen asleep.
At 11:11 p.m. I decided I didn’t care anymore. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d played me and I was the fool who’d fallen for it.
11:16 p.m. and I was pissed for even checking my phone again.
By 11:21 p.m. I was done. My feelings were hurt and I knew if I checked my fucking phone again I’d probably start crying. I turned off the ringer and put it on my nightstand and just as I turned to go to sleep, my phone started buzzing.
Shit.
I can’t explain what went on in my head (and stupid heart) when I saw MFRyker Calling on the screen. Excitement. Anger. Elation. Relief.
I slid my finger across the screen and answered, “Hello?”
“Hey. Sorry I’m late. Fuckin’ Martinez took for fuckin’ ever to get out of the locker room then we stopped and ate then Coach had a meeting in his hotel room. I just got out.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
“Where are you?”
“In bed,” I answered which made me shiver for some reason.
“Mmm… good.”
I could hear talking in the background. “Where are you?”
“In my hotel room. Rooks, my roommate, is staying in his girlfriend’s room.” Ah. The talking was the TV.
“Isn’t that against the rules?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. Only if he gets caught, though.”
“Oh. So how’d you do today?”
“Pinned my opponent in the second period. He was pissed too. All-American last two years, thought he was the shit. You should’ve seen the look on his face when the ref blew the whistle. Priceless.”
I laughed. “I’ll bet. Good for you, Ryker. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Francesca.”
“Um, I don’t really understand wrestling since I was always playing basketball, so don’t think I’m dumb if I ask the wrong questions.”
“I’d never think you’re dumb. Ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.”
“Okay. So do you wrestle again tomorrow?”
“No, not until Thursday then again on Saturday. This is some tri-state thing that we do every year. Washington, Oregon, Idaho. This year we’re in Portland. Last year it was at home. Year before it was in Boise. We stay the week and all three schools compete against each other.”
“That sounds like a good idea but I’ll bet you’re tired when you get back,” I said.
“It’s tiring just like a tournament but not too bad. We’ve got managers who do all our laundry and we get fed, so we’ve got it pretty good.”
“What hotel are you staying at?”
“The Radisson which is pretty
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