You Are the Shell to My Tortoise | ✓

47

The next few days had passed by peacefully, with me devouring the books that had fallen into my backlog at the quickest pace possible and having video call conversations with Ashley averaged an hour each.

However, my mind kept wandering to what Nolan was doing as I enjoyed my break from school. No matter how hard I pulled at it to return to my task at hand, its attention kept drifting back to him again.

By the third day, my fingers were itching to text him, but I had no idea what to say.

I stared down at my phone helplessly for the fifth time that day, my thumbs poised over my keyboard.

What was I supposed to say?

'Hey'? Was that all I should send?

What if he asked me what it was that I texted him for?

Nolan loved saying 'what?'

Sending back a 'nothing' would definitely make the conversation fizzle out immediately, and I banished the idea.

With a sigh, I tossed my phone back onto my bed.

At the back of my head, a tiny voice asked why I was working myself up this much over a single text.

It's not like you ever cared how you started your messages with Ashley. You just did it.

That was true. Then again, I rarely sent Ashley greetings. We both usually delved right into the topic we wanted to talk about, like how her first message to me yesterday was regarding her bratty younger brother who had planted a spider on her bed.

Picking up my phone again, I scrolled through the chain of text messages Ashley and I shared.

My own conversation starter was how Ryan had gone into the kitchen at four last night for a glass of water, but spilled it while walking, and then slipped and fell on it. He had slammed into a chair as he slid across the floor, and it had been sent flying into the nearby wall.

The crash had instantly woken up everyone in the house.

Thankfully, he was physically alright. Although he obviously didn't have a curfew, he was still up far too late in the night for it to be healthy, and Mom made sure he knew it by giving him a well-intentioned but rather long-winded lecture.

Ryan was obviously losing his touch as a ninja of the night, which was kind of sad because I'd looked up to him so much for his adept skills back then.

Could I send something similar to Nolan? Would he be receptive to it, or would he ask why I sent him that?

I shook my head vigorously.

Why was I even overthinking this?

It was just a text!

As I sat there, still pondering the choices before me, a new message came in and my phone rang.

It was from Nolan, and it read, 'Hey. How's your break going?'

My heart soared right out of my body and into the sky, and I abruptly found myself grinning stupidly at my phone. He sent the first text, and it was such a simple line. It wasn't to discuss anything in particular. It was a conversation for the sake of having a conversation. He wanted to just have a conversation with me.

I was so excited, I wanted to use my bed as a trampoline.

Another thought occurred to me right then—he was thinking of me. He had to have been thinking of me to send this to me.

Still holding my phone with both hands, I rolled around on my bed, holding myself back from squealing.

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