It's Sunday afternoon, and I've been staring at his name and number on that piece of paper all weekend. This is why people like me don't date. We get attached after a small introduction. Thanks to the internet, I've searched Zeke's name to find photos of him, his social media accounts, and gossip sites about him.
Here's what I found. He dated supermodel Rayleigh Ortega for a while, and he was engaged to singer Feva. Both women were older than him. He owns a casino, five restaurants, directed several music videos, wrote three number one songs, and he wrote two movies that had great success on Netflix. I'd say he's lived a life for at least five people.
I rested in bed, ready to find a movie to watch when my phone rang. I knew who it was before I answered it.
"I was being nice, Jamie, but you are showing out. You didn't call to tell me about the audition. I thought we were closer than that," Monica fumed. Five. Four. Three. Two... "Now, tell me all about it!" She cheerfully exclaimed.
I admitted, "It was a waste of time."
Monica gasped, "What do you mean? Why? What happened? Were the judges mean to you?"
"The judges told me I did good, but in the end, I wasn't selected. I guess it's how they do things on shows like that."
Monica smacked her lips. "Are you serious? Why would they say you're good, but not select you? What's the name of the show so I can make sure not to react to it."
I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know. It's a new competition reality show." I quickly debated on telling my cousin about Zeke; however, she would be the only one to understand my hesitation. "I did get something out of it, though."
Monica cheered, "See! I told you! You just gotta keep putting yourself out there."
"No, Monica. Guess who talked to me and gave me his phone number."
Monica was silent.
I said, "He was one of our celebrity crushes when we were younger, like around 2005."
Monica called out, "Bow Wow, Romeo, B5, B2K, Justin Timberlake, Daniel Radcliffe, Ginuwine, Pretty Ricky, Chingy, Nelly, Lloyd, Zeke Riv---"
I interrupted her, "Yes!"
"Lloyd or Zeke Rivers?" She asked me.
"Zeke Rivers. He gave me his number and wants me to text him."
"Have you done it?" Monica inquired.
My brows merged, "No. I've been debating on it all weekend."
Monica exhaled, "Lord, what's wrong with my cousin? She's over here about to block her blessing."
I rolled my eyes. "Monica, be serious."
"I am! I told you before, and I'll tell you one more time. You can't expect anything to happen by doing nothing."
Here she goes with her speech about the key to success and the secret to happiness. I've heard it a million times from her, my parents, and society. I need ear plugs. Cue the sad violin music meme "Sad Romance" by Thao Nguyen Xanh.
Once she realized I was no longer listening to her, she asked, "You still there?"
"I'm sorry. Did you say something?" I asked her.
Monica sighed, "Jamie, you gotta stop being like that. There are people with physical disabilities who didn't give up. If you don't text Zeke Rivers, you'll look back and have regrets. If you want to get me off the phone, promise me that you will text him or I will call you every hour for 24 hours straight to ask if you contacted him."
She had a license, no, a doctorate in annoying people. "I'll do it," I told her with a fake smile on my face.
"Bye!" She hung up.
I picked up the piece of paper. I randomly thought, how much is this paper worth? He technically signed his name on it. Doesn't that make it an autograph? I squeezed my phone in my hand. At this point, I had the number memorized. I took a deep breath and entered the number on my phone. What do I text?
Me: Hey, it's me! [backspace]
It's Jamie! [backspace]
Remember me from the audition? [backspace]
Hi, it's Number 77. [backspace]
This is not going to work. I need some music. "Alexa, play '1 Thing' by Amerie."
Well... No turning back now.
Me: This is Jamie from the audition
Phone#: Zeke will text you soon.
Me: Okay. Thanks!
Makes sense that he wouldn't give me his real number. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen for something to drink. Water or Lemonade? Water. As I opened the bottle of water, my phone rang. I quickly ran to my room and leaped onto the bed. I picked up my phone as an unknown number displayed across the screen.
I took a few breaths before answering the call. "Hello."
"I'm surprised you didn't text sooner." His voice sounded nice over the phone.
I smiled brightly. "I like to take my time."
"I see. How did your audition go?"
My brows met. "I thought you heard me sing."
"I did, but I don't make the selections. Were you chosen for the show?"
I fidgeted with the sequins on my emoji pillow. "Umm, no. Even though the judges said I was good."
"Sorry about that. I was hoping you would get picked. These days, it's more about personality than the talent."
"I get it. It's Reality TV," I told him. "Why did you want me to text you?"
Zeke chuckled, "Honestly, you have a certain energy about you that I can't figure out just yet, but it's really attractive on you. You even make that grandma sweater look good."
I blushed. "First of all, my sweater is not a grandma sweater. It's cute, comfortable, and it's like my protective blanket. I've been having it for a long time, and we have a lot of memories together."
"Okay. I don't want to come between you and your sweater, but is it possible to see you again?"
Is Zeke Rivers asking me out on a date? This has to be a fanfiction that I read in middle school that's finally coming true. "Sure. When?"
Zeke replied, "I'll text you. Only thing is my schedule is crazy. You'll have to be ready when I text you. Cool?"
"Cool."
"You keep singing. I'll call you later."
"I will. Bye, Zeke."
He hung up.
I fell backwards onto my bed. This had to be a dream. Who goes to an audition posted on Facebook and leaves with Zeke Rivers' phone number? I could just scream like I wanted to in the nosebleeds at the Scream Tour concert.
Before my imagination could run wild, my phone rang for the third time today. That was a record. I sat up and looked at it. Zeke was calling.
I answered, "Hello?"