Me: Someone asked me out today.
Ian: You should go as long as he doesn’t drive a squatted truck. Where does he want to take you?
I hate that he wants me to go. This is
the third time he’s told me to go on a date with someone. Yeah, I realize we live in different states, miles and miles apart, and I don’t know what I expect, but I do know that I don’t want him to easily tell me to go on a date with someone. I only tell him about the prospective date because he was the first to mention how he was going on a date with some girl who obviously isn’t me.
Ian can be confusing. He seems to like me, but he doesn’t mind sharing when he’s with other people. I think he does it partly to get a rise out of me. I can never tell for sure, though. He still talks to me just as much, too. Sometimes, he’s texting me while he’s hanging out with them, which makes me feel guilty and I shouldn’t since we’re just friends. I know that’s what we are, but it doesn’t feel like that all that time. I don’t want us to be that, even though I don’t see how we could be anything other than that.
So, I tell him about these dates and stupidly wish he’d tell me not to waste my time.
That’s what I’d be doing regardless.
Both dates I’ve been on eventually end with me being dumped in one way or another. Maybe there’s only one date, or there’s a couple and then the guy acts like he doesn’t even know me. I really don’t want to go through that for a third time.
Sighing, I answer Ian.
Me: Movies.
Ian: Again? Don’t you guys have something else to do besides that?
Me: Apparently not.
Ian: Well, go anyway. Hey, have you checked the mail today? If not, check it.
“Mom!” I shout as I leave my room.
“What?” she yells back from the kitchen.
“Did I get something in the mail?” I ask as I find her making dinner.
“Oh, yeah. The package is on the table. I think it’s from your dad.”
The return address doesn’t include a name, so she probably saw the state and assumed so. “Thanks.” I grab it and rush to my room. I love getting packages from Ian. He sent me a necklace with my birthstone in the pendant for Christmas. I’ve yet to take it off, though I’d never tell Ian that. His ego would cause his head to grow so big, it’d explode. And Ian definitely has one at times. He also sent me a package in February. He said it was just because, that it had nothing to do with a certain love-centered holiday. It was a simple gold anklet. Haven’t taken that off yet either.
My birthday is tomorrow, so I’m assuming that’s why he’s sending me another package. I’m excited to see if he’s sticking to jewelry or if he’ll branch out into something else.
“Another package from Ian?” Logan asks as he comes into my room, plopping onto my bed to lie on his back.
“Yep. Where’s your pocket knife? I forgot to grab the scissors.” Ian tapes up the packages so that you can’t easily open them. It’s annoying as hell. I’ve told him to stop, but he won’t. Logan pulls his pocket knife from his pocket, but since he doesn’t let anyone else use it, he takes my package and opens it up for me. I grab the box and pull out another box. The presents are always wrapped inside. It looks to be too big for jewelry.
I unwrap it to find what you’d normally put clothes in when wrapping presents, but when I open that, I find a book. It’s a recent release I’ve been wanting by one of my favorite authors, but haven’t gotten around to buying yet. My fingers gingerly run over the front cover and peel off the sticky note that says, “Open me.”
A scream erupts when I see that it’s signed. Oh my god!
“Look!” I turn it around to shove it at Logan’s face. “It’s signed! Oh my god! I’ve never had a book signed before!” No one will let me borrow the car to go to the signings when they are sort of close by. I grab my phone and call Ian.
“Like it?” he answers.
“If you were here, I’d kiss you. Thank you so much.”
“Really?” He audibly perks up. “I thought it would be a good present, but I didn’t think it would be that good. I had to wait in line for four hours for that, gorgeous. Four hours.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for doing that for me.”
“Of course,” he replies quietly as if he’d do anything for me.
“This is my first signed book.” Logan waves from his spot on the bed, so I add, “Logan says hey.”