Summer- Chapter 2

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The night was starting to wind down. Elliot tells me he was ordering our Uber soon. Shawn looks disappointed when he hears this.

"I'm having some people over tomorrow night," he says. "You should come. Elliot can come, too."

"Oh, um, sure," I say, kind of surprised by his invitation. We'd hit it off, but I wasn't expecting to see him again after tonight.

"Can I have your phone?" he asks.

I hand it to him. He then hands it back so I can unlock it, which I do. He goes into my contacts and adds himself. He sends himself a text from my phone.

"Uber's here," Elliot says to me.

Half of the group has left by now, so it's not that hard to get out of the bench seat. Shawn follows us out to the sidewalk.

"I'll text you tomorrow," he says, as I climb in the waiting car.

I smile, "Sounds good. Bye!"

He shuts the door. I turn and look at him as we drive off. He gives me a wave.

Once we're a block away, Elliot starts laughing.

"For someone who didn't want to go out, you sure seemed to enjoy yourself," he teases.

"I tried to make the best or a bad night," I say facetiously.

He just shakes his head.

Elliot's right, of course. I had a good time. It's nice having the attention of an incredibly handsome and talented guy. Who wouldn't love that? And it really had nothing to do with who the guy was. Once I'd spent time with him, I realized how normal he was. In a good way.

"We're going to Shawn's tomorrow," I tell him as I remember that we'd been invited to some thing at his place.

"Only if I can bring Becca," he says.

Becca is Elliot's girlfriend. She is not doing summer school (lucky bitch) but she's coming to visit for the weekend.

"I'm sure it would be fine if she came," I say. I mean, why wouldn't it be?

When we get home I'm tempted to jump in the shower. I'm kind of sticky and gross from sitting in the hot bar for hours, but at the same time, I like that I can smell Shawn's scent on me. Maybe that makes me on par with a deranged serial killer who keeps the fingernails of his victims in a jar in the freezer, but I don't care. I take another whiff of my shoulder before I crawl into my cool bed and snuggle under the thick covers. I'm so thankful that Alex and Elliot both like the a/c cranked up. As a southern girl, I can't stand being indoors unless it is borderline frigid. I like to sleep with heavy blankets on year round.

I wake up the next morning and go to check my phone. Ugh. I'd forgotten to charge it. It's dead. I do this at least once a week.

I plug it in and throw on a big sweatshirt and some leggings. I make my way to the kitchen for my first (of many) daily cups of coffee.

The house is silent. The microwave says it's 9:15. Becca is probably here by now; she and Elliot are undoubtedly in his room. Alex is hardly ever home.

I make my coffee and take it over to the couch. I flip on the TV and change the channel to Cartoon Network. By the time I've watched two shows, I'm on my third cup of coffee and am feeling like a human.

After I turn off the TV, I go back to my room and look at my phone. It's alive again.

I see that I have a bunch of texts. A certain number of texts is normal, but this is ridiculous. I'm not that popular.

I go to the first one, which is from my closest college friend, Rachael, who is at home in Vancouver for the summer. She asks if I had fun last night.

What?

Most of the texts make mention of three things: last night, Shawn Mendes, and Instagram.

Uh oh.

I go to IG and see that Elliot has tagged me in a post. It's two pics. The caption says "my roomie's mood before and after going out."

The first pic is of me scowling and flipping Elliot off. I look pretty terrible, but he's posted much worse pics of me. The second pic is of me and Shawn talking at the bar. He's leaned in close, telling me something in my ear, and you can see I am laughing at whatever he's said, despite the poor lighting of the room.

He didn't tag Shawn, but it's obviously him. You can see his tattoos on the forearm that is placed on the table.

I know it's no big deal. It's just two people in a bar. Nothing even happened between us, for goodness sakes. There's an intimacy to the picture, though. It's like a private moment was captured. It bugs me that so many people are making a big deal out of it, but I get why.

As I am staring at Elliot's stupid Instagram post, I get a text from Shawn.

Shawn: Hey

It crosses my mind that he might have seen the post. I look at Elliot's followers. Shawn is not on there. That's good. I have no idea how he'd feel about it.

Me: Good morning :)

Shawn: You in for tonight?

Me: Yep. Send me the address and time.

He sends me both. I go back to Instagram and notice that I have a notification. Several people have requested to follow me. I don't know any of them. A couple appear to be Shawn Mendes fan accounts. What on earth.


Author's note:

Congrats to SM for making Time Magazine's 100 most influential people list. The article by John Mayer is great. Check it out.

So that was nice and positive. Here's where I get bitchy:

I hate necklaces on men. Like really hate them. Ugh. Sorry.

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