Страница 11 из 28
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: Admit it. I’m growing on you.
Greyson. No, I’m not still mad. Actually, I wasn’t mad to begin with, just surprised. Want to know the truth? I don’t actually mind the teasing. What’s THAT all about? - Calvin
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: Bats in the Belfry
Dear Calvin,
Do you realize we’ve been emailing and texting for over three weeks now? Every time I giggle at my phone—at something YOU said—my roommates and sisters give me the weirdest looks. At this point there is no doubt they think you’re real. It’s going to make things that much more awkward when Gala night arrives. I ca
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: RE: Bats in the Belfry
WHAT THE FUCK, GREYSON? I don’t even know where to start. How does a fake boyfriend respond to an email like that? I can’t come pound some dude’s face in because he touched you just like I can’t beat your landlord’s ass for not showing up to kill a bat—and that infuriates me. I’m going to take a deep breath here and calm the fuck down for a second. – Calvin
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: There’s only room for ONE (fake) boyfriend in my life.
Cal,
I’m sorry I upset you. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I mean, yes, Dylan kind of upset me, but he wasn’t doing it intentionally. Well… okay. That’s a lie because he was obviously hitting on me pretty hard and CLEARLY trying to badmouth you. Or the OTHER Cal. LOL. It makes me—I don’t know—happy that you care enough to get mad. Who knew that we would become FRIENDS? Life is crazy, isn’t it? Just in the middle of cooking di
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: Wasted man meat.
Grey. What did you end up making for di
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Subject: Sisterhoods and Bromances
Calvin,
Who would I even TELL about your love for Aaron? My sorority sisters? The Twitterverse? Anyway, I don’t get why guys never want to talk about their feelings for each other. It’s really stupid if you ask me. A slap on the ass among men during a sporting event hardly a brotherhood makes. Wait. Did that even make sense??? Whatever, I’m not deleting it. Haha. You probably won’t even see this because you’re getting ready to rugby. Grey
Cal: Oh, I saw it.
Grey: You’re there!!
Cal: Grey, it’s only noon. Lol. Where else would I be?
Cal: And for your information, rugby players do NOT slap each other on the ass. Ever. I’d get punched in the face if I ever swatted another dude in the ass.
Grey: Want to test that theory? Swat someone on the ass and see what happens…
Cal: No.
Grey: Boo, hiss.
Cal: So. Got anything going on tomorrow afternoon?
Grey: Maybe. I don’t have afternoon classes on Fridays, so the girls and I might take a short trip.
Cal: That sounds… terrible.
Grey: That’s ‘cause you’re a party pooper.
Grey: Incidentally, if you had a drink of choice after your game, what would it be?
Cal: Um…??? That’s really random.
Grey: Humor me.
Cal: Probably a green tea lemonade.
Grey: Ah, a Starbucks man.
Cal: GTG. Team meeting in twenty.
Grey: :)
Calvin
I’m pulling the slobbery mouth guard off my teeth when I see her.
I briskly shake my head side to side, beads of perspiration flying out of my damp hair, and squint up into the stands, convinced my eyes are playing tricks on me.
Under the stadium light, among the SMU and Notre Dame fans do
I shake my head again. Holy fuck. What is she doing here?
My breath catches as I blink in her direction—not just from being winded from the hard-fought game we just won. No. I’m suddenly winded from an adrenaline rush of another kind: Lust. Anticipation. Uncertainty.
I stand frozen on the sidelines, surrounded by my teammates packing up their gear. Another bead of sweat rolls down my neck and drips onto my already soaked jersey.
“Hottie approaching at three o’clock,” the team’s athletic trainer, Paul, a
“That’s no ordinary hottie, Paul,” Mason a