Hope your day is going amazing! Remember to be nice to the nurses around you today. You attract your vibe. So, lay off on the asshole pills and maybe, just maybe, try to smile. At someone. Even if it’s at yourself in the mirror. Haha. You know you think I’m hilarious.
Damn it, I did.
You did notice I gave you my number a week ago, right? I mean, a hello text would be nice. Unless you don’t get bored, which, hey, maybe you don’t. Anyhow. I’m around if you want to talk or text. Just don’t hate me if I don’t hold my breath waiting for you to. (Insert sarcasm, in case you didn’t notice it.)
While you wait to admit I’m your new best friend and you’re dying to hear what I sound like. Is my voice squeaky like Minnie Mouse’s perhaps? Or raspy like Scarlett Johansson’s? (Yes, I totally had to Google the right spelling, in case you were wondering.) Let me tell you about my day.
And she did.
She told me about her students. How one class had raised their grades by twenty percent, how a student was sending a care package to their pen pal. How she admired this student. He was a hard worker and didn’t have a lot, so he was selling candy bars to get money together to buy shit to send. Throughout her letter, she kept things light. Easy.
But something about it ate at me. She didn’t talk about herself. She hadn’t shared more than what was going on with her in the last two weeks.
And it had been bugging the hell out of me.
My head ran wild with possibilities. What if she met someone? If she did, for whatever reason, she didn’t want to share that with me. I didn’t know why she would think I would care.
She wasn’t mine.
I swallowed hard, all the while trying to ignore the tightness in my belly at the thought of some other man wrapping his arms around her. I stood up and shook my blanket off, brushing the confetti off as I looked at the sparkly mess on the ground. I grabbed my phone and snapped a pic of it. The sun streamed into the room, almost as if spotlighting the mess on the floor, bringing out the blues and golds from the little pieces of paper.
I looked at it and went through my camera roll. Picture after picture of the little surprise messes her letters left behind littered my phone. I brought her name up on my phone, and without thinking, I pressed Call.
“Hello!” a soft voice lyrically sang in my ear. It felt like all of a sudden, time had slowed down. Like all the prissiness I’d felt about the mess melted away and no longer mattered. All because of one five-lettered word.
“Hello?” she called out at again. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but it was like my brain wasn’t connected to my vocal chords in that moment. “Hello? Who is this?” I was like a fish out of water. Shit. I should hang up!
What the hell was I doing?
“Karma? Very funny, Karma. Quit being a weirdo. You know that shit creeps me out,” she complained, and I could almost picture her moving around her room. “I won’t be able to sleep, and I’m gonna call you and keep you up,” she muttered, and I coughed a chuckle away.
“I don’t think your sister would appreciate that,” my voice rumbled, and there was no missing the hitch in her voice.
“What?” she whispered.
“It’s not Karma,” I clarified. She made a choking sound.
“Well, I can hear that.” I could almost make out the smile in her voice. “Hi.”
“Hey.” My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest as I waited for her to say something.
“Who is this?”
“Do you have more than one pen pal you like to drive crazy with confetti and glitter? Because I gotta tell you, I’m a jealous guy.” I was met with nothing but silence and crickets. I winced at myself. Had I come on too strong? Too much?
I was about to apologize when she burst into laughter.
Loud and boisterous.
Carefree.
Easy.
“No. you’re my only one. Pen pal, I mean.” I liked the sound of that. Her only one. “Hello, Lincoln O’Brien.”
Fuck me. My dick started to come alive behind my joggers at the sound of my name coming out of her pretty little mouth.
“Linc.” I cleared my voice. “My friends call me Linc,” I added. Not that my friends had been around lately with how surly I’d been. Even Rowdy, who had the patience of a saint, had stopped coming by.