Edgar’s fingers began to sweat. They hovered over the blank keyboard on his phone as he repeatedly hesitated before pressing any key. His heart mercilessly thwacked his ribcage, each thump resonating emphatically in his eardrums. A single lamp on Edgar’s desk dimly lit the small room, casting fading shadows onto the oak bedroom door. The wind whisked through the trees outside, the temperature dipping consistently.
Edgar spelled out his full name onto his new profile, and scrolled through his camera roll to find the perfect picture. He had never used Tinder before, nor had his addiction been at an all-time high. He selectively tapped on the images where his golden blond hair looked immaculate, his cerulean eyes the deepest blue, and his smile the brightest. Any snapshot of imperfection was immediately neglected. Edgar didn’t have time to be genuine. Authenticity would blockade him from the satisfaction he craved. His fingers continued to tremble as he typed out his bio and tapped ‘save.’
The first image that popped up on the screen was an auburn haired girl, an impeccable smile crafted across her cheeks, punctuated by eccentric dimples. She lounged on a yacht, or some sort of boat’s deck, with the azure ocean as her background. She wore a bright pink bikini and a baby blue Yankees cap. Her tanning skin glimmered in the sunlight, and her eyes were covered by jet-black ray bans. Her name was Katie. She was nineteen. The caption from her bio read: ‘Hey there, looking for some good fun’, followed by a winking emoji. Her following picture was a candid selfie, this time in her bedroom, wearing a different colored, considerably smaller bikini, half her face obscured in waves of hair, but the same smile printed on her cheeks. Edgar swiped right.
The next picture depicted Donna, a dashing redhead, wearing a navy blue prom dress with a seductively low v-neck. Elegantly posed, her emerald green eyes shot into the camera, counterbalanced by a playful smile dancing across her cheeks. The purple sunset sky behind her contrasted her vibrant dress and fiery locks. The caption read: ‘Let’s dance baby.’ Edgar swiped right.
The next girl, Ashley, gazed at the camera through chocolate colored eyes, a splash of freckles on her nose. Edgar swiped left.
As time ticked along, Edgar’s swiping rate rapidly accelerated. Hairstyles, smiles, and body figures all became progressively similar and blurred as Edgar’s decisions became more momentous. His finger moved as if on autopilot, the decision-making process reduced to instantaneous instinct.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Edgar didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he wanted to flambé his alarm clock when it jolted him awake at 6 AM. He lumbered over to the bathroom, recoiling when it’s white light flooded the shower, spilling out into the corridor. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a rats nest.
He had to concentrate to stay awake while driving. The hum of the engine a lullaby to his ears. Nearly veering into the opposite lane, the Red Bull hadn’t done Edgars any favors, and it was only 6:45 AM. He glanced at his phone while the stoplight. A few texts, a Venmo payment, and a single Tinder match notification.
Fourteen hours later, Edgar sat back in his Mustang. His hands gripped the wheel, tense with anticipation. He copied her address onto Google maps. He turned the key into the ignition and the engines revved. He floored the accelerator as soon as he exited the warehouse complex. Red Bulls and BAM Energy were replaced by a newfound adrenaline. Edgar sighed as he approached his destination. His biceps ached from lugging boxes to and fro in the warehouse. His legs felt like soggy pasta. An invisible force pressured his lungs as his breaths became shakier. His conscience whispered through brief cracks in his resolve, questioning him. He took a long inhale of smoke from his vape, releasing a cloud of vapor into the night. The whispering voices ceased. The city lights flashed by as each stoplight brought him closer to his destination.The towering Atlanta skyscrapers watched as Edgar weaved between cars and sped through red lights in the name of infatuation.
Her house lay on the outskirts of the city, right off of I-75. ‘Typical suburban, upper-middle class’ Edgar noted. He hadn’t exchanged many texts with her. Between his work quota and limited number of breaks, they had exchanged polite greetings, and she had sent him her address. Not much more. He scrunched the gravel walkway with each step, goosebumps shooting up his arms. He approached the white door. He knocked twice.88Please respect copyright.PENANANmsXBPvQtp
Maria opened the door. ‘Edgar.’ She said, a sly grin creeping across her left cheek.
‘Maria.’ Edgar replied, not sure whether to shake her hand or grab her face. He stood awkwardly for a count of three as Maria seemed to study him like a lab specimen.
‘Well come in.’ She urged sarcastically, her words charmingly sweet. She led him to the kitchen aisle and placed two glass chalices in front of her, pouring red wine into each. They briefly clinked the glasses together. Maria took a sip. Edgar took a swig.
‘Nice car.’ Maria observed, brushing her hair to one side.
‘Thanks.” Edgar chuckled nervously. “It’s new, I bought it about two weeks ago, got a pretty sweet deal.”
“Not many college students around here have a car of that caliber,” she said as she took another sip. Edgar’s heart began to pound.
“Been saving up for a while. Pepsi unsurprisingly pays their employees pretty well, especially after a promotion.”
“Wooooahhh. The big-shot works for freaking Pepsi.” She remarked, her voice thick with sarcasm.
Edgar smiled and took another sip of wine. He shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say?” He said, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Maria laughed. “Guess we’ll have to test that out, won’t we?”
Edgar tensed, his fingers still wrapped around the chalice. Without thinking, he gulped down the rest of the red liquor, grabbed Maria’s face, and latched his lips onto hers.
In Edgar’s mind, pillow talk was meant to be romantic, perhaps even elegant. Although, Edgar thought to himself, I shouldn’t be expecting a Nicholas Sparks ending to a night brought about by lust. Edgar gazed at the beige ceiling between the occasional glance at Maria whenever she would ask him a question. Their bodies lay entangled on the living room couch, enveloped in a gray blanket, the odd arm or leg slipping out from beneath the covers. Her caramel skin pressed against his, exchanging too much sweat for Edgar’s liking.
“Dude, you need to cut your hair.” Maria blurted, resting her chin against Edgar’s chest.
“Come again?” He asked. Her hazel eyes studied him briefly.88Please respect copyright.PENANA9O4zDyLI5s
“Yeah cause I don’t like your hair finding it’s way into my mouth while we’re mackin’.” She said. Edgar waited for a laugh to follow, but her expression remained blank.
After a litany of similar exchanges, Maria’s eyes finally closed, and her breathing eased. Her chest gently pressing against Egar’s abdomen with each breath. His focus returned to the ceiling, at the chandelier suspended from a single hook in the cream-colored ceiling. The amber kitchen light reflected off it’s crystals, casting dim, diamond-shaped lights across the walls. His mind wandered back to the previous night. He remembered the excitement and nervousness that bubbled within him, and back to the exhilaration coursing through him moments earlier. He looked back at Maria, her sandy blond hair draped over his chest. Her breathing so gentle, her skin so soft.
‘Stop it’, Edgar chided himself, ‘don’t get attached. You had your fun, but that fun expires as soon as you walk out of that door.’
As much as he tried, he couldn’t believe what he was telling himself, despite all the backing of reason. Edgar was on Tinder looking for a good time. Looking for actions, not attachment. Sex, not sentiment. The sensible thing to do would be to leave for work in the morning like a gentleman and move on, no matter how cute her dimples were. Edgar knew it might hurt Maria, but as guilt nestled in his mind, he knew the wise course of action would be to remove himself from her entirely. To ease both his troubled mind and any expectation she might have that their relationship would escalate.
After a few hours, the sky began to turn light blue. Edgar slowly unravelled himself from the cocoon of hair, skin, and blanket, slipping on his clothes and walking towards the door as quietly as possible. He heard Maria mumble, but didn’t look back as he closed the door behind him, and walked back toward his car in the brisk morning air.
Waffle House was his sanctuary. Right off of I-85 South and Route 34, opposite a dilapidated Walmart and a gleaming ALDI supermarket. Edgar dragged himself into a booth by the window and ordered some black coffee and a cup of orange juice. His hair was still ruffled and his shirt had more wrinkles than his great uncle. He looked out at the Walmart sign, still lit but each ‘a’ was burnt out, so that it looked like it spelt out Wlmrt. The sky loomed an apathetic gray, and cars, their headlamps seemingly dim, trudged by nonchalantly. Edgar watched as each made a turn and sped up before disappearing onto the interstate, or continued straight and vanished into the tunnel beneath it. He checked his phone, expecting a text from Maria, only to be disillusioned by reality. His eyelids were heavy, and his heart sagged with disappointment. He heard the door open with the ‘ding’ of the bell immediately following. His head jolted up. His buddy Rheese approached the booth, and sat down opposite Edgar as the waitress brought over steaming coffee and ice-cold OJ. Rheese ordered the same and a two blueberry waffles with a side of hash browns. Edgar settled for some eggs and bacon.
‘Hey man’ Rheese said, twirling a hair tie between his fingers. ‘You okay? Your text got me kinda worried.’ Edgar took a swig of his coffee, his face grimacing.
‘I had a one night stand last night.’ He said, although he might as well have been talking to the orange juice. His eyes wouldn’t meet Rheese’s
‘Damn.’ Rheese said, watching Edgar with his kind, but piercing brown eyes. ‘Tell me about it.’
Rheese listened intently. Between forkfuls of blue waffle he maintained eye contact, nodding occasionally and pausing Edgar for clarification questions. The day grew somewhat brighter, the gray sky shifted from ashen gray to a silvery one. Edgar often sipped his coffee as he paused between bouts of speech, trying to winsomely convey his convoluted web of emotions. Edgar found himself talking about much more than the Tinder match. He felt disappointed in himself. He knew he was better than casual sex and all that ultimately fleeting fun. He knew he was passively observing his smoking addiction worsen rather than actively seek some sort of help or healthier outlet for his frustration. Since his relationship with his parents deteriorated, and he began working for Coke, he hadn’t had time to be a regular teenager. College illuded him, money was short, and so were scholarships to his ideal schools. He felt overwhelmed, overworked, and under-appreciated.
With all these events that many of his friends blew off as ‘part of life’ began crashing down on him, Edgar wanted to try something new, to feel elation and appreciation once more, to buy some happiness, however counterfeit. It seemed better than the reality he had to deal with each morning. Edgar couldn’t remember the last time he had a chance to lay on the couch and listen to music without being interrupted by either his mother’s complaints, chores, or bedtime. Leisure was a nonexistent luxury, and rest a vapor he couldn’t grasp. Rheese was scraping his plate for remnants of hash brown and maple syrup as Edgar finished both his story and it’s complicated context.
‘So not entirely sure what do do now.’ Edgar said, cutting up some sausage. ‘Cause the worst part is I actually think I like her. The pillow talk wasn’t all that great but I can’t get over her. Either that or I thought it’d be easier to forget, since I basically used her as an object.’ Rheese leaned back into the scarlet booth cushion, crossing his arms. His long hair was tied up in a bun, and the bags under his eyes were unavoidably obvious. He took a deep breath as Edgar focused on getting some food in his system.
‘I think you two might be pretty similar.’ He began, pensively looking out the window. ‘Did you wait till she was awake to leave or did you slip out and make her feel like a whore?’
Edgar’s jaw dropped. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Just a joke’ Rheese said, waving his hand, although his expression remained somber. ‘What I mean is, I wonder if other people who use Tinder are in some similar predicament to yours, dealing with excess frustration or feeling overwhelmed in general. Looking for escape.’
‘That’s interesting,’ Edgar replied. ‘Could be.’ He took a sip of his now lukewarm orange juice.
‘One way or another,’ Rheese continued, ‘I’m obligated, as your blood brother, to tell you that you fucked up.’
‘Okay, fair.’ Edgar said, a piece of egg falling out of his mouth. ‘Here’s the thing, from the little me and her talked before…you know…’ Edgar said as he wiped the table with a napkin.
‘Yeah, what about it?’
‘It sounds like there’s something real there.’
‘Congratulations! You’re officially not an objectifier of women.’ Rheese chuckled.
‘Whatever.’ Edgar sneered. ‘My point is, what if I actually start to have feelings for her? She seemed pretty cool with her clothes on.’
Rheese pondered for a moment, Edgar could almost hear the gears wheeling around in his head. ‘Good question.’ He said after a long pause. ‘I’m not sure.’
Peachtree City seemed to be fast asleep by the time Edgar pulled up onto his driveway. Morpheus had evidently made his way through town. Not a soul was outside, and most lights inside were switched off. A strange sight for 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning. He stepped out of his car and circled his house toward the back porch for a smoke. He sat on one of the rocking chairs by the grill, still smoking and smelling like a mixture of barbecue sauce and smoke.
He put the vape between his lips and began to inhale. Suddenly, he hurled his vape across his backyard mid-inhale. He heard it hit the rocks on the far side with a satisfying cracking sound. Furious with himself, he aggressively puffed out the cherry-flavored smoke. This, he thought to himself, suddenly feeling optimistic, might be progress. He smirked and walked inside, careful not to make too much noise. He didn’t want his mother interrogating him over his whereabouts the previous night. He loved mom, but since last month, he made a habit of avoiding her most of the time.
He creeped quietly up the stairs, flinching every time the wooden beams creaked. He opened the door to his room and walked in, silently closing it behind him. He let out a sigh as he tossed his phone and wallet on his bed and slumped beside them, his arm over his eyes. He was disgusted with himself, the guilt he felt rang repeatedly in his head, and the thought of the potential damage ensuing from what he’d been doing the past twenty-four hours stayed irrevocably in the center of his thoughts.
Two days later, against reason, Edgar texted Maria. A simple ‘Hey, can we hang out sometime?’ Whooshed from his phone, plastered on the black chat screen. Edgar wasn’t sure he did it because it would make him seem less fake or if it was because he couldn’t get her face out of his mind. He tried to kill time, waiting for a response, cleaning out his sock drawer and vacuuming his bedroom floor so well even mom was impressed.
“Never thought this day would come!” She had exclaimed gleefully, with a strong aura of sarcasm. “Is it going to snow too?” She asked with a playful chuckle, kissing his cheek.
Driving back home from Kroger later that afternoon, he heard his phone ding, and sure enough, it read:
Maria
1 Notification
His heart leapt into his throat. Edgar stared at the screen like it was a magic lamp. His mind began to race. Should he reply, or pretend he was busy, like they tell you to do in romcoms? Fortunately, he didn’t have too much time to decide. The stoplight had licked to green, and in response to various vehicles honking behind him, he immediately floored his accelerator in response. As he adjusted to the speed before risking being pulled over, he thought about Maria’s eyes, were they brown? Or had they been hazel? Or green? Edgar wanted to slap himself for being so shallow. He gripped the wheel tightly as he raced towards a Shell, exactly three miles of gas left in the tank.
He opened the text, one hand on the gas pump. The screen glowed with six simple words:
Sure. Hiking tomorrow? Say around two?
Edgar replied:
Sure! Pick you up at your place around then! Sys.
He read her text over like and over like an incantation. He imagined treading through the woods with her, exchanging banter and making her laugh, and maybe a wholesome comment in-between. Lately, Maria had moved from her townhouse into the forefront of Edgar’s mind. She set up a sofa and a coffee table, and lounged there throughout the day, ever-present. She always comprised some fraction of each thought, seemingly seared into some component in his head. The gears never shifting without somehow acknowledging her presence.
Since he had too much time to think while transporting Coke products from store to store, it was excruciatingly difficult to think of anyone else. He wondered if this was normal, if it was some sort of post-intercourse infatuation. But that didn’t make sense to him. Wasn’t Tinder supposed to be a ‘fuck-and-forget’ sort of industry? That seemed more likely than a place to find a real romance. Besides, why didn’t his feelings contain a sexual underpinning? Why did they seem so pure? He didn’t picture Maria naked, or half dressed. He wanted something real. Something tangible, untouched by the fleeting nature of that night they spent together. Maybe dinner and a movie, or a date at the aquarium. Suddenly those ideas seemed sexier to him than their only interaction thus far. Was that really what everybody felt after a supposed one-night stand? Edgar doubted it. Something else was at play, gnawing at his heart, like a gadfly piercing his skin. A longing for intimacy that travelled beyond mere physicality. This cauldron of sentiment and vice steamed and broiled within Edgar, giving rise to a cold sweat, goosebumps racing down his back as he drove back home, hoping he hadn’t gotten himself entangled in a web of some devastating proportion.
They drove towards a hiking trail in Sandy Springs in a somewhat awkward and polite exchange of phrases. Edgar tried to ask as many questions as he could to keep the conversation flowing, and Maria seemed to do the same. But after about fifteen minutes, its as if they’d run out of casual conversation topics to discuss. After all, how could one have any sort of casual conversation after a first encounter like theirs? How did you regress from constant open-mouthed kisses to distanced, sealed lips?
Maria rolled down her window and the wind whipped through her sandy blond hair, which she had dyed with straits of brown since he had last seen her. She lounged on the leather shotgun seat, feet hanging out the window. ‘Whats her flaw?” Edgar muttered to himself. Rheese had told him his trick to forgetting women the night before.
“What you gotta do,” he had said over the phone, “is focus on her one flaw. Like maybe her eyes are too far apart, or her arms and legs are disproportionate, or something. Then, every time you think of her, always remember that one flaw, and theoretically, she won’t appear as attractive anymore.”
But Edgar couldn’t spot any flaws. Her skin was immaculate, her laugh intoxicating, and every time she looked at Edgar he instinctively touched his chest to double check if his heart was still beating.
“They don’t call it Hotlanta for no reason” Maria remarked as she and Edgar walked along a trail. Ostensibly engulfed by deep green vegetation, the urbanity of the city became a foreign concept.
“I think I’m just used to it.” Edgar replied. “Grown up here, I guess the mugginess just reminds me I’m home and it’s summer—good times.”
“Interesting. What else do you love about this place?”
He paused for a count of five. “The people. Definitely the people.”
“What about them?”
“I think a lot of them are just nice.”
“Nice? That’s it?”
“Nice in the sense that they aren’t usually superfluous or outright bitchy. And even when they are you know there’s a reason why. But it’s cool how easy it is to talk to people here, whether its at church or the supermarket, everybody’s not too different from each other. That culture of community kinda binds everybody together in a sense. Plus, since COVID, Georgia hasn’t been on lockdown too much and things are open, which is awesome.” He paused, glancing at four bluebirds sitting on a branch above him, chirping a chattery melody. “That’s another cool thing, COVID hasn’t cancelled culture. People are still cool, and not really afraid of the virus to the extent that they stop being who they are or were or whatever. They still try to carry on that lifestyle of Southern niceness, I guess. Not the fake kind either, seems to me. I dunno. I could go on.”
“Wow.” Maria said. “That’s really cool. Selling Georgia to me real good huh?”
Egar chuckled. “Sure, I mean, I meant what I said.” They trudged in silence for another few minutes, panting as the trail took on a rocky incline. “What about you?” Edgar asked.
“What about me?” She countered, spinning around to look at him, ruffling her hair behind her.
“Where’s home for you?”
“Not sure I have one, I mean I was born on the South Carolina side of Augusta but lived in Pensacola for a while. Then I moved up here like two years ago and finished my senior year, now I’m kinda screwing around until I figure out what I wanna do with my life. Not sure what home means exactly but I’m also not sure I’ve experienced it.”
“Where’d you stay the longest out of those three?”
“Pensacola. Not the best spot in the world but there’s a few cool things to do. Although maybe I hate it so much cause that’s where my dad left.” The silence between them became brittle, interrupted only by the gravel being crushed underneath their feet as they reached the peak of the hill.
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
“Eh. It’s alright, made me who I am today.” She scoffed. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right?”
Edgar wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. She strolled towards the red, wooden fence standing between the green field on the peak from the drop-off. The lush valley stretched out beneath her, and the azure sky complemented her straight blond hair and white tee. She stood with one foot on the fence like a mighty empress, assessing her land. Edgar still couldn’t find that flaw.
“Pretty cool isn’t it?” He said, leaning backwards against the fence, next to her.
“Yeah, beautiful…” her voice trailed, her eyes fixated on the horizon, her mouth hanging open, as if in either astonishment or contemplation. The wind whooshed around the peak, rustling the trees and cooling the sweat on Edgar’s brow. Edgar studied her one more time. Still no flaw.
“If you think this is cool,” he said, “I should take you up to Kennesaw mountain. The view there’s even cooler.”
“Yeah maybe you should. I’d be down.” She said, although she might as well have been talking to the trees, her eyes never deviating from the view. “You come here often?” She said abruptly, her head swiveling sideways to look at Edgar.
“Not too often. Haven’t had the time to come here as often as I’d like lately. The last time I came here I wasn’t even working.”
“Seems like a good place to sit and think, if there’s a spot with less people anyway.”
“One quiet locale for solitude, coming right up.” Edgar smirked and offered her his hand. She smiled and gladly obliged. They walked towards Edgar’s Solitude Rock, fingers laced together.
The rest of the afternoon felt like a montage from ‘Kissing Booth.’ They sat atop the large boulder on the other side of the hill, bantering, laughing, and exchanging the occasional kiss. Maria told him more about her family and her previous boyfriends, and mentioned how she’d love to immigrate to Calgary at some point. Edgar in turn told her about his mom and dad, how he and his mum were best frenemies, and about stories from work and his childhood. Maria was a good listener, nodding and asking questions in between. Edgar tried his best to make her laugh, her smile lit up her face just as well as his. He took her to his favorite Mexican restaurant afterward, and watched her speak fluent Spanish to the waiter while sipping his water embarrassingly. He could barely remember to ask where the bathroom was after four years of high school Spanish. They sped through I-85 chattering about Edgar’s obsession with the music underground, and walked on Georgia Tech’s football field after leaping over the grey fence, instead of walking through the open gate around the block.
The sun began to creep towards the horizon, singing the stadium in a shade of orange. Marias hair glowed in the late afternoon light as they walked towards the stadium exit. Edgar’s eyelids began to feel heavy. He wished he could set up a hammock and turn in for the night. He’d been up since four in the morning, pacing his room, anxious about how the day would pan out. His brother said he must’ve lost a good amount of calories walking about the house and the backyard, as well as rapidly shaking his leg when he sat down.
He dropped Maria home just as the stars began to sparkle in the navy blue heavens. “Good night” Edgar remarked as he parked the car on the gravel around the back of her house.
“Night,” she said, reaching for her hoodie in the back seat. She flashed a smile, and climbed out of the car. Closing the door behind her, she strode confidently through the back door, not looking back once.
“Sounds like you had fun then.” Rheese said, the volleyball tucked under his arm.
“Or he’s just making it all up.” Ewan remarked from the other side of the volleyball net.88Please respect copyright.PENANAqVfemZjpWL
Edgar glared at him disapprovingly. “Ha. Ha. HA. You’re so funny, Ewan.” Ewan chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. The Georgia sun seemed to burn differently in Pine Mountain, maybe they really were closer to the sun than the surrounding towns. The three compatriots stood by the volleyball nets, murmuring about Edgar’s supposedly new romantic acquisition.
“Why are we here again?” Ewan asked irritably, glaring at their other friends, who were immersed neck deep in the cool water of the lake.
“Edgar’s slippery fingers when it comes to women?” Rheese conjectured, scratching his chest.
“What?” Ewan chuckled.
“Like, he can’t hold on to women” Rheese said. Ewan looked at him for a few seconds.
“Sure thing.” He finally said. “But doesn’t keep him from trying…frequently.” They both laughed heartily, Edgar rolling his eyes, the sarcasm emanating form the conversation thicker than the ubiquitous humidity.
“Guys, focus please?”
“Oh, we are.” Rheese said. How else would we come up with such great lines?” Ewan fist bumped him.
“Sorry” Ewan said, wiping the sweat off his brow. He looked at Edgar. “So you went to her Chick-Fil-A right?’
“Yeah, we talked for a little, and then I left.”
“And the problem is?” Rheese asked.
“She’s been saying she’s busy all the time, and hasn’t been replying the same.”
“Did she seem normal when y’all talked?”
“I mean, yeah. But not on the phone.”
“She literally kissed you before you left.” Ewan exclaimed. “You’re overreacting dude.”
“On the cheek.” Edgar murmured, feeling defeated. Rheese raised an eyebrow.
“Dude, if you’re worried, have a conversation.” He advised. “Tell her straight up what it seems like. Ask her if she’s okay, if she wants to talk, take her out for a picnic with a sunset or something real cute and gross like that. Girls roll over for that crap.”
“Girls also roll over for a good beard huh, Edgar?” Don’s voice entered the conversation as he walked over from the lake, his dark hair dripping wet. He clapped Edgar on the back so hard he nearly fell over. “These whiskers of yours don’t exactly help huh?” He teased.
“I got the Mustang though.” Egar countered.
“You guys have fun trying to figure out the female mind.” Ewan interjected, “I’m gonna go for a soak. It’s hot as balls.” He jogged towards the water and belly flopped into the small waves, a cheer erupting from the rest of the guys.
“So are we gonna meet her or what?” Rheese asked.
“If she’s not as busy as she has been.” Edgar replied, picking up his phone and speaker from the sand.
“You sure she’s not just another girl, the whole kind of fling-without-sex thing?” Don chuckled.
“I guess we’ll see.” Edgar admitted.
The rest of the weekend became punctuated with thoughts of Maria. Edgar wondered where she was. What she was doing. He constantly asked himself why it wasn’t with him. He began hearing what Rheese called ‘ghost vibrations’ on his phone. Hallucinating a text notification sound or buzz, whipping out his phone to stare at a glowing, blank screen. His mind wandered to the memory of their date (if it was even a date) strolling around Atlanta, over one hundred miles away. His thoughts became diffused with the sounds of her laughter and biting sarcasm. His lips tingled when he thought about the kiss they shared atop the boulder on that hill, overlooking the valley below. She permeated every sentiment coursing through his spine, every neuron was branded by her charm. Edgar was immersed in her incantations, entirely engulfed in the memory of her.
That Sunday, before leaving the retreat, Edgar excused himself from the table, and typed out a text to her:
Hey! I was just wondering if you’d wanna get a coffee sometime, there’s some stuff I wanted to talk to you about, let me know!
His confidence faded with each character he typed. She’d been ignoring him for weeks. Her responses were never longer than three or four words, with one of them usually involving the word ‘busy.’ The fear of rejection lurked, swirling around Edgar’s brain. He hadn’t seen her in over a week and a half, and she hadn’t said a word to him since he left that Chick-Fil-A. He held the backspace key on his phone. He looked back to the collection of picnic tables he had just left. His table, his friends. His chosen family. Ewan. Don. Rheese. He glanced back at his phone and tapped her contact image as his finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. His table frequently erupted into fits of boisterous laughter, ringing between the ubiquitous, towering pines. Edgar stared at them, then back at his phone, vacillating between chasing her and joining them. Between two sorts of elation.
He pressed the button. The screen morphed into a keypad with her name at the top. Beneath it read: ‘calling…’ Edgar caught Rheese eyeing him from the table. He glanced at him and met his gaze. Rheese’s eyes sent a silent message: ‘Don’t bother.’
Edgar pressed the phone to his ear. He heard it ring once. Twice. Thrice. After the zillionth time it rang, Edgar pressed the ‘decline’ button. He typed out a text asking her to call him back, trying to sound understanding. But he didn’t understand. Anger and melancholy breathed down his neck. He slowly trudged back to where his friends were sitting, a cacophony of bliss surrounding the old oak table. Edgar returned, but his smile hadn’t. He had shipped it to the other side of the phone line.
Seconds after he sat next to Rheese, he heard a ‘ding,’ and out of habit, grabbed his phone from his pocket, his heart thumping with anticipation. Rheese and Don both looked at each other from opposite sides of the table, having a silent conversation. Rheese glanced down at Edgar’s phone, and the words on the text. He sighed and glanced back at Don, who was stuffing so much Mac ’n Cheese into his mouth that he looked like a yellow-stained pufferfish. Rheese squeezed Edgar’s shoulders as he looked at his phone, dumbfounded. The text contained seven simple, yet venomous words:
Leave me alone, I have a boyfriend.
ns 172.71.254.36da2