Candy Gram ✓

chapter five

"Yes," he says matter-of-factly. "Her name is Jenny, though she told me to call her Jerry. She plays baseball with me in the gym at recess."

"Why Jerry?" Dad leans back.

Ben shrugs, his face going red. "I don't know. She just did."

"Ben and Jerry, duh," Mom says, smiling in her odd way. "She sounds cute."

I finish off the last of my (still basic) pasta and chug the rest of my water. After pushing out my chair, I tousle Ben's hair. "Yeah, she does." My phone is heavy in my pocket. "Also, I've got crap-tonne of homework." Lie.

My bedroom is pretty clean - it's covered in posters from musicals, both ones I'm obsessed with (ahem, Be More Chill) as well as school ones (the Shrek one is slightly torn, and that makes me sad. Sadder than it probably should).

My bed is too big, which is part of the reason why I never have guys in here. (Even if they wanted to come . . . which they don't.) It just screams, "I'M PERMISCUOUS. DO STUFF ON ME. LOOK - FLUFFY BLANKET. SO DIRTY. MUCH DIRTY." The bedding is wrinkled, and I don't sleep with a top sheet, because who even needs that extra hassle?

I still love the navy blue of the walls, especially with my white book cases and tidy IKEA TV stand. It makes me feel together, if that makes any sense at all. (It probably doesn't.)

Part of me knows I should shower, but I decide I'll do it tomorrow instead.

After all, I kind of want to look nice for Secret Guy. It's not an occasion that requires my usual bedhead.

My phone is out of my pocket as I'm shutting my curtains - it's freezing in my room, and the snow is still slowly but vigorously attacking the street. It looks pretty deep already - three inches at least. Let my inner groan roar.

I mean, seriously - it'll still be Cupid Day and there's going to be a butt-load of snow? Ugh. So much ugh. Maybe this whole "secret admirer"-thing will make it more bearable. . . . Or it'll make it worse. That's just as likely.

I can't wait till tomorrow, lol.

Secret Guy, me neither.

My breathing seems unusually slow as I type, So are you just telling me now then? Bcz I'd like that a lot

Noooope. That would be breaking the ruuuuuules ;DDDDDDDD

What rules? I ask him.

.....My imaginary rules.

You're infuriating.

I think you mean adorable.

I'm going to do it. Flirt. (I think, at least.) Maybe I do. What are you going to do about it? Is this even flirting?

This is me on tired. It's not good.

I'm blushing too hard to answer....

Then, he says, I want to call you. Bad.

Then call me, I say. Desperately, as I am.

But I can't talk to you

Yes, I say, typing swiftly, you can.

I have this whole THING planned for you. seriously. I don't want to ruin it

Can you tell me about this THING?

He hesitates. I can feel it through the screen. Then, No. I'm sorry. I just....

Want me to be completely WOOD tomorrow, right?