I Wanna Text You Up (Page 12)
Caleb: I can’t imagine being an artist. One, I don’t have the skill. I’m a horrible drawer. Two, I don’t have the imagination. Nothing speaks to me the way baseball does, but now I don’t even really have that anymore.
Caleb: I won’t lie, I’m bummed about my hand. I was excited as hell when the minors wanted me, even talked myself into doing it and trying for the majors, but now that’ll never happen. The fracture wasn’t enough that I need surgery, but I messed up a tendon and nerve. So yeah, my grip is gone. I’m screwed.
Caleb: Anyway, I guess it will all work out. Good thing I have a backup plan, and there’s always coaching. Now I’m rambling. Good night.
Me: I hate that you lost baseball, especially since I know you’re not a fighter. Whatever/whoever it was about must have been something special if you put your dream on the line for it.
Me: Also, the walls aren’t THAT thin. Ass.
Caleb: They ARE that thin. Maybe you should pipe down, and maybe one day I’ll tell you the story about my hand—if you’re lucky.
Me: Dear Ghost Roomie, you get to see me this week. How excited are you?
Caleb: I’m not.
Me: You miss me, and you know it.
Caleb: Missing you is a stretch. I haven’t known you long enough as a roommate to miss you. I do miss your cookies though. 😉
Me: Uh huh. Trying to use a euphemism there I see, but you failed—you’ve never had my COOKIE, now have you? Nice try, loser.
Caleb: It’s the thought that counts.
Me: YOU WERE THINKING ABOUT MY VAGINA?
Me: Is THIS flirting?
Caleb: This is me running on energy drinks and naps for the last two days. Cut me some slack, yo.
Me: I heard you come in about midnight last night after your mysterious Sunday out. I was THIS close to bothering you, but I didn’t want you to see what I sleep in. Now I’m glad I stayed away.
Caleb: NAKED? Do you sleep naked?!
Me: Wouldn’t you like to know. 😉
Caleb: Honestly? Hell yes.
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Caleb: Not just your retainer but zit cream too? Be still, my beating heart.
Me: Right? You’re welcome. Keep that one for later.
Caleb: Remember how you offered for your friend to grab my bike for me?
Me: I do.
Me: Spit it out.
Caleb: My old roommates are threatening to have it towed, saying I’m blocking their parking. Think you could help me out?
Me: You don’t come home, you don’t call, yet you want favors. Hmm…decisions, decisions.
Caleb: Is that a yes? I really need it to be a yes.
Me: Please hold.
Me: Okay, Robbie can help.
Caleb: And he’ll take good care of my baby…right? I can trust this guy?
Me: Do you really have a choice right now?
Caleb: No. I can’t believe these guys are being such dicks about everything. They keep saying it’s because I left them “high and dry”, which is complete bullshit. Fucking dicks.
Me: YEAH YOU TELL THEM
Caleb: You done?
Me: Sorry they’re dicks.
Caleb: It is what it is.
Me: I’ll get everything taken care of with the bike, don’t you worry. Go back to your “gas station duties”.
Caleb: What’s with the quotation marks?
Me: Well…I have this theory.
Caleb: What was it you said earlier? Spit it out.
Me: I have this theory that you’re really a stripper and you’re just embarrassed and don’t want to tell anyone about it. That’s why you work such crazy hours and come home smelling like old ladies and sadness.
Caleb: Are you serious?
Caleb: Holy fuck. *dies*
Caleb: Zoe, I am NOT a stripper. I work at a 24hr gas station and that’s ALL I do. I promise.
Me: I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be surprised if you came home covered in glitter and wearing a G-string. *shrugs*
Me: Mittens is an asshole.
Caleb: Oh god, what did he do?
Me: Turns out I’m a sympathy puker.
Me: He puked on my floor, and then I puked on my floor trying to clean it up. Like, I still love him and all, but I also kind of hate him right now.
Caleb: Shit. He probably ate too fast. I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, Zoe. I promise I’ll be at home more often and all the kitten duty won’t fall to you.
Caleb: I’ll make you dinner.
Me: You already cook for me. Try again.
Caleb: I’ll touch your butt.
Me: Who’s really getting the most of that one?
Caleb: That wasn’t a no…
Me: We’ll see. 😉
Caleb: How about…I’ll TAKE you out to dinner.
Me: Did you just ask me out on a date? I thought we talked about you trying to stick your ham in my meat wallet.
Caleb: No. Do not say meat wallet. And it’s not a DATE date, just like a roomies date. Ya know, for not sucking.
Me: But…what if I like sucking?
Caleb: Did you just make a blow job joke?
Caleb: I…I was not expecting that.
Caleb: You never stop surprising me.
Me: Is that a bad thing?
Caleb: Not at all.
Caleb: Unless you’re surprising me with herpes or something. Then that’s bad.
Me: DID YOU USE MY BODY WASH AGAIN?!
Caleb: Define use…
Me: DID YOU SQUIRT IT ON YOUR LOUFA AND USE ALL MY GODDAMN BODY WASH, CALEB MILLS?!
Caleb: Define all…
Me: DOCTOR SCOTT!
Caleb: Uh…what? This is Caleb still.
Me: No. Noooooo. Puh-lease tell me you’ve seen that movie.
Caleb: What movie?
Me: THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE EVER!
Caleb: Field of Dreams?
Me: Omg. You would. You fucking would.
Me: No. Try again.
Caleb: The Sandlot?
Me: NO DAMMIT.
Me: The Rocky Horror Picture Show. OBVIOUSLY.
Caleb: The what?
Me: You’ve never watched Rocky Horror?
Caleb: I have not.
Me: That’s it. We’re doing it.
Caleb: It? Like sex? Are we having sex?
Caleb: How did this turn into us banging?
Me: No! We’re going to see Rocky Horror. It’s a whole experience—toast and rice and water guns and yelling. You’re going to love it. We’ll go this month.
Caleb: I don’t know how we went from talking about movies to sex and now toast. Are you drunk?
Me: We were never talking about sex!
Me: And no, I’m not drunk. I wish.
Me: Bring me wine.
Me: You’re so mean.
Me: So, are you in for Rocky Horror?
Caleb: Sure. I guess. When is this?
Me: Third Thursday of every month. Midnight.
Caleb: MIDNIGHT? Are you off your damn rocker, woman? No way. That’s way past my bedtime.
Me: IT IS NOT. You don’t come home until one or two in the morning half the time.
Caleb: But my hours are changing, remember? I’m implementing a new bedtime. Right after Wheel of Fortune, I’m hitting the sack, no ifs, ands, or butts about it.
Me: Are you an ass man, Caleb?
Caleb: Fine. Yes.
Caleb: I’m ASSuming you caught that?
Me: You’ve ASSumed correctly.
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Caleb: Did you just really send me a picture of a donkey?
Me: What? You said you were an ass man.
Caleb: You are SUCH a smartass.
Me: Excuse me, I prefer smartdonkey.
Caleb: *rolls eyes*
Me: Rocky Horror date is set. That’s where you can take me for making me clean up your kitten’s puke. You owe me…
Caleb: *sighs* Fine.
Caleb: I gotta go back to work now. Smoke break’s over.
Me: You smoke?
Caleb: Gross. No. But they don’t know that. 😉
Me: You’re incorrigible.
Caleb: You’re not erroneous.
Me: I see what you did there…though I don’t think that’s the right context.
Caleb: It’s the thought that counts.
Me: Okay, okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday. Thank you.
Caleb: I see you got my gift. You’re welcome.
Caleb: Also, do you have any idea how expensive 6 bottles of that body wash is? Roughly six billion dollars.
Me: Wait a second here…6 bottles? I only see 3.
Me: Holy crap. Did you go for the buy 3 get 3 free deal and KEEP THEM?
Me: So yes.
Caleb: Hey, you can’t blame me! That stuff smells amazing. I mean, even I’d lick me right now.
Me: I would too.
Caleb: You’d lick me too?
Me: But also maybe yes.
Caleb: I’m going with yes as your final answer.
Me: Aren’t you supposed to be working?
Caleb: I’m at study group.
Me: Oh shit. Then why are you texting me? Go learn something.
Caleb: Because you texted me first, and then you started talking and just wouldn’t stop.
Me: Are you trying to tell me I never shut up?
Caleb: In the nicest way possible.
Me: You’re so good to me, Ghost Roomie.
Caleb: I’m not a ghost for much longer. Just two more damn days and then I’m free.
Caleb: Convince me not to rage-quit.
Me: Hmmm…I’m not sure I can do that without specifics here.
Caleb: I put in to have the night off when that horror movie you want to take me to is playing, but they fucking scheduled me anyway. Assholes.