The Problem With A Hot Crush
The next morning, I woke at six. I never wake up at six. I made myself a bowl of cereal. I never eat cereal. Then I turned on the TV and waited for Chloe to get up. I sat there for three hours until a bleary-eyed Chloe stumbled into the living room and greeted me with,
"Call him. Now." I swirled my spoon in my cereal, which by then had turned into a sugary mush. I picked up the remote and pressed the power button. The screen went black.
"Good morning to you too." I grumbled. Chloe walked over to the coffee table, where I had left my phone and the slip of paper the previous night.
"I'm dialing," I got up,
"Fine," I punched in Loki's number, "happy now?" She flounced over to the kitchen, looking very pleased with herself.
"Yes." I entered the number and held the phone up to my ear. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, I was about to put it down, when I heard a voice come over the line.
"Hello?" For a moment, I forgot how to speak.
"H-hi," I managed.
"Kate." I rushed forward with the speech I had prepared that morning,
"So, I was wondering, do you think we could get together some time? Please-don't-hang-up, I was just hoping we could get to know each other, and I think I might really like you. Plus, my best friend says I've been single too long." I heard a snort from over the line,
"Um... Yeah, we can get together, but don't say I didn't warn you. Most people who get to know me usually run away screaming." I laughed and felt all the tension that had been building up all morning drain away.
"OK, so, next week?" I could practically feel him smiling.
"Same place, same time."
"I'll see you there." I hung up. I turned back to Chloe with a strange look on my face.
"Soooo..." I grinned,
"I think I got myself a date."