Chapter Nine

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On the train in to work I closed my eyes tight and tried to take a nap. Too bad for me I remained wide-awake, and I couldn’t stop obsessing over James’s local hottie surroundings. But was I even surprised? As if he’d willingly go where the “uglies” were at. Not that ugly women were confined to certain places. Well maybe the library.

My brain wasn’t even making sense anymore, for goodness sake I loved the library! It was all his fault for leaving me with so many questions.

MEN!

When I finally arrived at the office, an e-mail to James was the first thing I wrote:

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Hey James,

Nice pictures! You sure seem to run with a hottie social circle ;-)

Romi

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The “wink” in my message was only for show. I was angry. It was crazy to feel all this rage towards a guy I’d only e-mailed for a couple of weeks. Even crazier was that my emotions fake or real were confined to concrete words and typed out winks.

Who even “winks” in real life? That would be the creepiest shit ever!

I twirled a strand of hair ferociously between my fingers, almost enjoying the pain.

Before ever drawing any blood from my scalp, I released the hair as his e-mail response rolled in.

Well that was fast.

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Hello Roms,

That’s a small bite of the Catalonian spirit that breathes through this city, you should taste it one day. Moving to this city was an easy decision I can assure you.

How is Canada today? Still covered in a blanket of snow?

Warmest regards,

J

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My stomach rolled around in my body three times. I felt wretched, and then I felt wretched for feeling wretched.

I did not like being the lowly street rat in this tale of two Internet hearts. And NO it’s not still winter in Canada, and NO I’m not jealous!

To top it all off, did he have to sound so smart and proper in all his e-mails? It was attractive of course, but not when it made my e-mails sound like ghetto-trash. How did he even get so distinguished-sounding? Probably all that time spent writing screenplays. Ohhh, you’re so fancy!

I needed a good comeback response. Perhaps I could drop in a line that made fun of Spain, so he would feel like a loser for living there.

What was in Spain anyway? Sexy dancing. Awesome food. Beautiful weather…

DAMMIT!

I tried something different by Googling “Why Spain sucks.”

Most of the responses were in Spanish (so Spaniards hated Spain?), or focused on the theme of why Spain “doesn’t” suck.

You’ve failed me, Google!

Throughout the day I read his e-mail many more times, hoping it would sprout some ideas. On the tenth read, I heard a voice that made me jump in my chair.

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