PART SEVEN

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Thursday was uneventful. I tried calling Shawn, but I was sent straight to voicemail. Maybe he's having another day where he can't let anything distract him. I try to let it go, but I hate feeling like this. I also remember saying one of my pet peeves was these miscommunication tropes. Anytime a tv show or a novel starts drama over something that could be solved in a simple conversation. So why isn't he letting me explain myself? I wasn't doing anything to be mean! But then it dawns on me; he did say he can't stand liars. I guess I could be perceived as a liar right now...

On Friday, I get to work earlier, so I can leave earlier and start my weekend as soon as possible. Not that I have any exciting plans or anything, but it's always fun to be out of the office. I unlock my phone to text Xav about hanging out tonight — there's a new series on Netflix we wanted to watch — but as my finger hovers over our convo, I see the one still named Sean (sp?). I click on it, and start typing. Before I can stop myself, I already sent the following message:

"Hi Shawn. I don't know what you're thinking right now, but I just wanted to give you a break from that public image bs. I didn't mean to lie to you. I was waiting for you to bring it up, and then I would've told you I knew all along (I know, easy to say now that it's already done). This is already too long a text, but I do have more to say, and I'm sure you also have questions for me. So please, call me."

I get up from my desk and go get water from the break room. When I come back, the familiar quacking sound makes me sprint to my desk. Shawn's funny picture I took on our date appears on my screen, so I pick it up, slide my finger on the screen to answer, and run to the stair case, where I can get a bit of privacy from my coworkers.

"Hello."

"Hi Alice."

"Hi Shawn. How are you?"

"I still don't know. Care to elaborate what you said on that text?"

"Of course. First, I'm sorry. I know it feels like I lied to you. I did know who you were when I gave you my phone number at Jimmy's Coffee. But I didn't want you to feel like you had to act a certain way because you're... famous. And I didn't want to get to know a polished, revised-for-the-public version of you. I wanted to know who you really are, and I figured that if you felt normal with me, you'd show me that person. And I'm sorry if that was selfish. But I think we had a good time! And I did ask you what you did, and you chose to be vague as well. So maybe you liked the idea that I didn't know. But I promise you, this doesn't have to change anything."

I finally stop talking. I'm listening to the silence to get a sense of his reaction. Did I make any sense? I played this conversation so many times in my head, yet I still felt like I couldn't find an eloquent way to express my ideas.

"I still owe you dinner, remember? You said I could pay for the next date?" I add after the longest 5 seconds of my life.

Can you hear a smile? Because I swear I could hear him smile on the other end of that phone call.

"Sure, that's fair. Should I be scared right now?"

"Scared? What do you mean?"

"That you can talk your way out of anything..."

"Well, a linguist dating a lyricist. That's gonna be interesting. Speaking of which, I'm at work, I have to go back, but are you busy tonight? We could hang out if you'd like."

"Sounds good. I'll text you. Now go work, if you wanna be able to afford this next date. I have very expensive taste, you know! As I am a popstar!"

"Ha-ha. Well played, Mendes," I say before I hang up. I'm glad we're already laughing about it!

I shoot Xavier a quick text to tell him everything is good, and that I'm even seeing Shawn tonight. He's happy for me and wishes me a good evening.

Now I still don't know what Shawn had in mind for tonight, so I take my phone to text him, but I see I already have a message from him:

"Red or white? I thought you could come to my place and we could have a chill night in."

Now I don't know if he's trying to make me not spend any money, or if he wants a repeat of that heated kiss from the other night, but I kinda want to fall for the trap and go. Is that bad? I guess I can always change my mind and leave whenever I want. So I reply:

"White. I'll bring dinner. Do you like sushi?"

"I do!"

"Then it's settled. What time should I drop by?"

"Anytime after 6 is fine by me. Here's the address."

"Great, I'll text you before I leave. See you tonight."

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