Nia was surprised that Richie, or Richard, she should say, responded as quickly as he did, and that they would text each other as long as they had. To be fair, she didn’t know him, maybe he always did this with girls he liked but didn’t text right away. But she was still surprised.
Janie was in her ear the whole bus ride to Chicago. “Oh my God, y’all are still talking! Guy Richie is really trying!”
“Apparently he likes Richard.”
“Ooh, Little Richard!”
“You are a mess.”
Just remember. You don’t know him. This is all text. You don’t even remember what he looks like…
“Oh my God, you’re crushing.”
“I know you. You’re crushing hard.”
“What if I am?”
“I’m just getting to know him.”
They had been talking about school, and messing up their yoga poses. They talked about bad campus food, and getting ready for the winter. Nia knew that it was decent conversation, nothing deep or truly stimulating. But she was bored and appreciated him continuing to talk to her. She wondered if that made her desperate.
No. I’m overthinking it. He’s sweet. It’s OK.
“Are y’all gonna fuck after break?” Janie asked.
“And if we don’t?”
“I’m fine with that.” Nia hoped that she sounded like she meant that.
“Girl, you are sprung!”
“Wanting to fuck doesn’t mean I’m sprung.” Nia realized how loud she was speaking when a white girl in front of her turned around and turned back out of frustration.
“What was her problem?” Janie asked. Nia wished Janie hadn’t noticed so that she could just move on.
“She’s probably not getting any,” Nia muttered.
That inspired Nia. She wasn’t one to deal with boring things for long. She texted Richard: “When’s the last time you fucked?”
“Nia! Oh my God, did you just send that?”
“Yes I did.” Nia carried herself with a false pride that she hoped would turn into real pride. Fake it until you make it, right?
“I don’t know if you’re the bravest person I know or the craziest.”
“Probably both. Let’s see what he does.”