Page 18 of Your Rule to Break
I mean obviously, you look good but
I thought WE looked good
Me
how did you even find this?
woah didn’t expect you to be up
FJ sent it. Convinced the guy has a Google alert set up and just waits for something like this to send in our group chat
Fritz, or FJ, is an equipment manager for the Upstate Cosmos. And Zack is probably right. While they are all close friends, they love to pick on Zack when given an opportunity.
we did look good
don’t let the low brow clickbait get you down
why are you awake
Instead of telling the truth, something like, “Well, I’m in a crippling obsessive-compulsive disorder episode and the intrusive thoughts feel like they could choke me,” I tell a little white lie.
Nightmare. Can’t fall back asleep.
I see the bubbles, indicating Zack is typing, come up and disappear a few times. And then the phone rings.
“Hello?”
“That article is going to keep me up. That’s my nightmare,” Zack says, his words quick and choppy.
I feel my lips slightly shift from the firmly pressed line to the smallest start of a smirk.
“Why did you call?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know the answer. My mouth is dry, and I cough, covering the hoarseness of my voice.
Zack sighs. “Not being able to sleep is the worst. I thought I could tell you a story and maybe bore you right to sleep.” Even now, late at night, Zack feels like he moves at an energy level I can only tap into on special occasions.
This isn’t how I expected my night to go.
“You don’t have to do that—”
“I know I don’t. Maybe I’m the one who needs a distraction from that fucking article,” Zack scoffs, which makes me almost laugh. “Two things. One, do you want to talk about your nightmare?”
There’s nothing to talk about, so I reply, “No. Not really.”
“Valid. Two, do you have breakfast plans for tomorrow morning?”
Tomorrow. Wednesday. The middle of the week.
“No plans.”
“Want to come with me to my favorite breakfast spot in the morning? I could meet you at your place, and we could walk together.”
Zack lives close by, maybe a ten minute walk. There’s no reason not to go to breakfast, minus the fact that I might be dead tired, depending on how the rest of the night goes.
“Breakfast sounds good. As long as it’s not some fashion revenge tour. I need tomorrow to be low-key.”
I almost trip over my words. I’m still taking in the distraction from my overactive brain.
“Definitely an athleisure type of spot,” he confirms. When I don’t say anything else, Zack continues, “Why don’t you go get cozy? And have you ever heard about the one where I went to an amateur male stripper night?”