Page 7 of Don't Look Down
Not that I’m checking up on him or anything, and it’s definitely not why I have the app in the first place, but according to the timestamp, his status shows last login was about three days ago.
Which isn’t even that long ago, for fuck’s sake, since it’s been longer for me.
Get a grip.
How did I get here? How did I get to this moment where Sky, a man I’ve never met, is taking up this much real estate in my brain? The man is living there rent-free.
On paper, aside from our connection overCall of Dutyand hockey, Sky and I are total opposites. Our connection doesn’t really make sense, but we still click. Easy conversations and laughter from the first moment we matched. I’m a good judge of character, and something about him just felt safe from the very beginning. But even though he feels safe to me, I’ve still held myself back.
My frustrated groan sounds loud in the hushed quiet of my room. Aside from the mostly inaudible sound of the ceiling fan above me. It’s circulating at a rhythm similar to my thoughts. Unfailingly.
Rotating my phone in hand, I watch its motion closely, hoping I can focus my thoughts on the device and away from the dilemma I’m trapped in. I guess trapped is a bit of an overstatement, since I could easily come clean at any time. If I’m being honest, I’m worried about his reaction to my news. The last thing I want is for who I am to cause a rift between us. I don’t want to lose him. Our conversations mean a lot to me.
Maybe I should just call my mom. She’ll tell me straight what to do. She’ll help me sort through this mess. Talking to her always settles me. That should help snap me out of this thought cycle.
I’m not ashamed to admit my mom was my best friend while I was growing up. Who am I kidding? She’sstillmy best friend, but Sky is competing for that spot, and I’m sure he has no clue.
I mean, I had friends growing up, but I always felt a deep kinship with my mother. She was a teen mom, so we’re pretty close in age.
She’s my hero, biggest fan, cheerleader, supporter, and confidante all rolled into one.
This is why I’m struggling to process how Sky is somehow becoming that person. When I’ve. Never. Even. Met. Him. And he has no clue who I really am.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
My mind wanders a few months back to the day we first spoke. I didn’t set out to make a new friend that day. It just kind of happened in a moment of divine intervention. An accidental crossing of paths. A moment arranged by the Gods of Gaming and the Internets. A random assignment to a COD deathmatch team and the rest was history. Or fate, maybe. Somewhere in the midst of flash bangs, headshots, and shit talk, we actually got to talking for real. Who knows what we actually spoke about that night, but we just clicked.
My cheeks reach for my ears with the stupid grin curling across my face as I let myself remember. I’m glad I can’t see my face, because I feel goofy as hell. And, quite frankly, I’m glad Savannah hasn’t made it over yet.
That woman would call me out for my stupid face.
So here I am.
Just lying in my bed, one hand under my head, phone in hand, thinking back to that day. But I can't help myself, so I just surrender to the memory instead.
An alarm went off through my headset, and I heardskysthelimitcurse under his breath. “Damn, I gotta go knock out for a few hours if I plan to be useful to any of my patients tonight. Catch you another time?”
“For sure. But, patients? Are you a doctor?” I noted it was around two in the afternoon my local time, and I wondered what time it was where he lived. He could be anywhere, but I’m almost sure he’s at least in the same time zone, if not the same state. He sounded not only American, but Floridian with a hint of Latin flavor. I could be wrong, but I could swear I hear the Florida dripping from each of his words. It’s a thing. Florida has its own accents.
“Oh no, honey, I'm a nurse. Send me a friend request if you’re down to link up again sometime. This was fun. Later, LandonTheBull.”
And just like that, he was gone. One friend request later and the rest is history. A few games in and he’d told me his name was Skylar, but to call him Sky. He said the intimacy of Skylar always made his skin crawl.
Everyone calls me Spencer or Spence, but for some reason I refused to examine, I’d told him to call me Landon. I didn’t want him to call me what everyone else does.
He didn’t feel like everyone.
He felt different.
Like asomeone.
So I followed my gut.
It’s so rare for people aside from my mom to call me Landon, but Sky does. At least when he’s not calling me LTB.
And I don’t hate it.
I think I love it.