All That and a Bag of Chips

Chapter 15

When Collin woke up Saturday morning, stretching into his pillow, eyes closed to the warm sunshine streaming in from the blinds, the first thing he thought of was Heather.

It wasn't a coherent thought. More of a feeling, really. A flutter just behind his sternum, floating between his abdomen and his chest. When he inhaled, it expanded, reaching down his limbs, and when he exhaled, it condensed back into its throbbing center.

With a vision of her smile etched into his mind, he wondered where she was and what she was doing. He didn't think she had a shift today, but wasn't sure. Maybe they could do something together.

Collin hadn't spent time with Heather since he'd gone out for burritos with her, Veronica, Monica, and some guy Monica thought was cute, on Tuesday night. He had seen her briefly at work on Thursday, but that didn't really count. You couldn't have a conversation with a counter between you. Couldn't accidentally bump knees or brush knuckles.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. The pile of dirty clothes in his hamper and the mess of papers in front of his blue iMac 3G invaded his vision as his image of Heather faded away. Where the fuck was his phone?

He sat up, looked under his pillow, fluffed out his blue comforter, and ran his hand over the racecar sheets he had bought for his bed as a joke. He finally found it, plugged in, and under his bed.

There was a message. His heart stopped beating as he flipped open the phone and clicked on the icon to see who it was from.

Heather: Good morning! Picked up a last-minute shift this morning, but getting off at 11. Want to do something after?

A frenzied mixture of elation and anxiety clouded his mind as he looked at the corner of his phone screen to check the time. It was only 8:45 in the morning, which was plenty of time to get ready and make a plan.

What time had she texted? He looked back at the message. She had sent it an hour ago. He wasn't sure she would see his message if he texted back now. She'd probably picked up a three-hour shift to cover the morning rush and put her phone on silent.

Collin pressed reply and then stared at the empty text box. What should he say? He wanted words that would encapsulate his excitement at her text without being too overly enthusiastic. Suave, not creepy. Smooth, not desperate.

His thumbs hovered with indecision.

He started by pressing the 4, followed by the 6 three times and then three times again, then the 3, and continued pressing the keypad until he had written, "Good morning!" But what should he say next? Sounds good? Blah. Looking forward to it? Eh. So glad you texted. I was just thinking about you. Too much.

Finally, he just went on instinct.

Collin: Good morning! If you're up for some fun, I have something in mind. See you at 11.

Once he pressed send, he made sure the volume on his notifications was on, tossed his phone back onto his mattress, and hopped into the shower. As he let the water pour over his head and down his back, he tried to think of what "fun" thing he could come up with. There were so many possibilities.

After toweling off, he got dressed in the new jeans and graphic tee Heather had helped him pick out at the mall the previous weekend, and then headed out to the kitchen.

Diana and Sam were both sitting at the dining room table, opposite each other, half-empty cups of coffee next to open books. Collin poured himself a mug, grabbed a chocolate-covered Entenmann's donut from the counter, and took a seat at the head of the table.

"Reading anything good?" he asked, his mouth full, a stray crumb flying from his lips.

Diana glanced at him sideways.