“I think Sammy and Jamie are home. Should I see if they want to get together tonight?” I ask, referring to two more of our friends. There are so many moving parts when it comes to our group, I sometimes feel like I need to borrow one of Rocky’s numerous degrees to keep track of us all.
“As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay the night.” She continues to slice the pepper she’s portioning out for me.
“Why not? You always stay when you come out to cook for us.”
I have a four-bedroom apartment for just this sort of thing. I’m always down for letting my friends crash at my place.
“With Vince in training camp, I gotta be there to feed the beast.” She places the prepped pepper in a container and gets to work on a cucumber. “Plus, I gotta make sure he’s not cheating on his diet.”
“You mean like sampling some of the treats your new roommate makes?”
My buddy recently started dating Gemma and Becky’s roommate Holly. She also happens to be the new kickass baker at Lyle’s coffee shop Espresso Patronum.
“I told Vin he can eat Holly’s cookie any time he wants as long as he stays away from her actual cookies until after the fight.”
I have the misfortune of taking the last sip of my coffee at just the wrong moment, and I choke at Gemma’s blunt statement. The Covenettes are no joke.
“You know…” She sets the knife down, resting her elbows on the counter, leaning in my direction to look me in the eye. “I heard Vin isn’t the only one with his eye on a pretty thing.”
Goddamn Coven.
Is nothing sacred? I’m not at all surprised to hear the girls have already been informed of last night’s crash and burn. It’s never good to be the subject of one of their Coven Conversations. Their group chat is the bane of our existence.
The one plus side is at least I managed to convince Melody’s friends to give me her number. They even went as far as letting me plug mine into her phone too. I wish I could see her reaction when I text her later. Naturally I saved my contact with my usual text handle.
Knowing anything I say could and would be used against me, I mime zipping my lips shut, place my mug in the sink, and head to get ready for the gym.
I have a text message to compose.
Chapter Five
THE BIG HAMMER: So…when are we going on our date?
BROADWAY BABY: Um…I’m pretty sure you have the wrong number because I don’t know WHO you are or HOW your number got stored in my phone. And while we’re on the subject, who the HELL puts their contact name as THE BIG HAMMER??? Trying to overcompensate for something there are we???
THE BIG HAMMER: Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to see just HOW WRONG that statement is. All in good time.
BROADWAY BABY: Baby??? Um how about not.
THE BIG HAMMER: What? *hands up in question emoji* It’s in your text handle.
BROADWAY BABY: It’s a song, but that’s NOT the point.
THE BIG HAMMER: No?? Okay, I’ll bite. What is the point, beautiful?
BROADWAY BABY: Oh, first baby, now beautiful. Why do I get the feeling I’m not the only one who doesn’t know the name of the person they’re texting?
THE BIG HAMMER: Oh…I know your name, Melody Brightly. A man doesn’t forget these things, especially when the name is as beautiful as its owner.
BROADWAY BABY: Smooth. Real smooth.
THE BIG HAMMER: Thank you.
THE BIG HAMMER: *GIF of man taking a bow*
BROADWAY BABY: That WASN’T a compliment.
THE BIG HAMMER: Compliments are in the ear of the beholder.
BROADWAY BABY: The phrase is: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
THE BIG HAMMER: Potato, vodka.
BROADWAY BABY: I’m sorry? Did we switch over to some sort of word association game without my knowledge?
THE BIG HAMMER: No. It’s like potato, po-tah-to. My buddy likes to use “Potato, vodka” instead since vodka comes from potatoes and all. I thought it was clever so I started to use it myself.
BROADWAY BABY: Thanks for the unprompted science lesson.
THE BIG HAMMER: Anytime, baby.
BROADWAY BABY: Ugh. Are we back to this again?
THE BIG HAMMER: When were we ever off of it?
BROADWAY BABY: You are THE MOST frustrating person EVER.
THE BIG HAMMER: I may have been told that a time or two.
BROADWAY BABY: Why do I feel like that’s a low estimate?
THE BIG HAMMER: *laughing face emoji*
BROADWAY BABY: Okay, so seriously—are you gonna tell me your name?
THE BIG HAMMER: You know…I was going to, but I think it’s more fun this way.
BROADWAY BABY: *GIF of person banging their head against the wall*
THE BIG HAMMER: You are funny, baby.
BROADWAY BABY: STOP calling me baby *angry face emoji*
THE BIG HAMMER: *GIF of Chris Kattan saying, “No can dosville babydoll.”*
BROADWAY BABY: Did you just How I Met Your Mother GIF me?
THE BIG HAMMER: Yup. My sister and BIL are OBSESSED with that show.
BROADWAY BABY: Why won’t you tell me who you are?
THE BIG HAMMER: Because.
BROADWAY BABY: Because why?
THE BIG HAMMER: Because I don’t think it would be in my best interest to do so.
BROADWAY BABY: But why?
THE BIG HAMMER: Wow.
BROADWAY BABY: Wow what?
THE BIG HAMMER: Nothing.
BROADWAY BABY: Okay, you can’t do that.
THE BIG HAMMER: It’s really nothing.
BROADWAY BABY: If it was nothing you wouldn’t have said anything.
THE BIG HAMMER: Okay, fine. Just remember you asked for it, so don’t go getting offended.
BROADWAY BABY: Oh no. With a statement like that, I make no promises.
THE BIG HAMMER: You really are funny, baby, but okay, I give. That whole section of our conversation reminded me of ones I’ve had with my nieces.