Chapter 50: The Art of Waiting

Chapter 50: Chapter 50: The Art of Waiting

By the time I finished studying, it was 11:31 PM, which was a perfectly reasonable time to stop for the night. I had covered everything I needed to cover, reviewed my notes, and managed to get through the evening without being distracted by a certain video call that someone had specifically promised to make.

At least, that was the version I was going with.

I gathered my books and papers, put them away, and moved to my bed with my phone in hand. Nicole was still offline. I stared at her contact for a moment before opening our chat, scrolling through the messages we’d already exchanged as though something new might have appeared while I wasn’t looking.

I finally exhaled and typed: Hey. You said you’d call.

I read it, frowned, and deleted the whole thing. It sounded like I was keeping track of her promises, which I obviously wasn’t.

I tried again: You asleep?

My thumb hovered over the send button before I deleted that one too.

Nicole? Asleep at eleven-thirty? The woman could probably stay awake long enough to watch the sun come up and then complain that the morning had arrived too early. Asking if she was asleep would be like asking a fish if it had considered learning to swim.

I let out a sigh and dropped my phone onto the bed beside me, deciding that if Nicole wanted to call, she knew where to find me.

Almost immediately, her status changed.

Online.

I picked my phone back up so quickly that I would have been embarrassed if anyone had been there to witness it. Nicole’s name appeared on the screen a second later, followed by the incoming video call notification.

I stared at the screen, already preparing to act as though I hadn’t been waiting for exactly this.

My thumb moved toward the answer button, then stopped just short of it. I let the phone ring a little longer, settling back against my pillows as my ringtone played. It was a good ringtone, and I rarely got to appreciate the full thing because most people had the decency to call at times when I wasn’t busy pretending I wasn’t waiting for them.

Besides, Nicole had made me wait. It seemed only fair that she listen to my ringtone for a few extra seconds.

When I decided she’d heard enough, I finally answered.

The screen lit up with Nicole’s smiling face, and she greeted me with a cheerful, "Hi!"

Just like that, I forgot why I’d been annoyed in the first place. Still, I was a man of principle. Or at least, I liked to think I was.

"Look who finally called," I said.

Nicole smiled at me. "I wanted to finish up what I was doing before calling."

I nodded slowly. "Sounds reasonable."

My tone was flat enough that her smile faltered for a second. Then she narrowed her eyes, studying my face, and I watched her expression shift from suspicion to something far more delighted.

"Wait." Her eyes brightened. "Are you upset?"

"I’m not."

"Awwwn." Her smile widened. "You missed me."

"I’m hanging up."

She laughed. "Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing."

I watched her laugh, saying nothing.

She tilted her head, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "It’s your fault I didn’t call on time, though, so you shouldn’t really blame me."

"My— wow." I stared at her. "How is it my fault?"

"You’re the one who said I should try going to bed early." She gave a casual shrug, but the smile in her eyes made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. "So I started what I was doing earlier, thinking I’d finish in time to call you."

There was something unfair about the way she could take a perfectly ordinary thing I’d said and turn it into a reason to make me feel like I mattered to her. She’d actually listened to me, remembered what I’d told her, and made an effort to follow through, even if her definition of going to bed early apparently involved calling me at nearly midnight.

I could have pointed that out. I could have reminded her that this was not what I’d meant when I’d suggested she try sleeping earlier.

Instead, I sat there looking at her, feeling that familiar warmth settle in my chest, the one she seemed to bring out of me with very little effort.

Nicole’s smile softened as she watched me. "What? Falling for me again?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, deciding I wasn’t about to give her any more ammunition to tease me with. "I’m exercising my right to remain silent."

Nicole burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help smiling at her. Once she’d calmed down a little, I finally decided to steer the conversation somewhere she couldn’t use against me.

"So, you called," I said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Hmm..." She brought a finger to her lips and looked up, thinking. I watched her for a moment, waiting for her to come up with something, then her eyes brightened. "Let’s talk about your upcoming birthday."

"Guys don’t celebrate their birthdays. It’s a rule."

"Oh, really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Which law book is that written in?"

"Guy Code, Section 4, Page 6."

Nicole laughed. "Liar. You just don’t wanna celebrate it."

I smiled, not even bothering to deny it.

"It’s going to be your first birthday since we..." She paused, and her eyes shone at the word she eventually settled on. "You know. Became friends."

I huffed a laugh. Somehow, that was all the encouragement she needed.

"It doesn’t have to be a party," she continued immediately. "It could just be you, me, Chloe, Jackson, you know? Chloe and I could cook, and I’ll bake a cake—"

"You can bake too?"

She paused and tilted her head slightly, looking at me as though I’d asked whether she knew how to tie her shoes. "I know. I’ll make a great wife."

I didn’t comment on that. I just sat there smiling while she carried on as though she hadn’t said anything unusual.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, leaning a little closer to the camera. "Hm? You don’t even have to do anything. I’ll handle all the preparations myself."

I looked at her bright, expectant eyes and the bubbly energy she was already carrying for a birthday that was still three weeks and a few days away. She looked ready to start planning immediately, and I had a feeling that telling her no would do absolutely nothing to slow her down.

"Alright. Go ahead."

Nicole beamed. "I promise you’ll love it."

"Why does that sound scary?"

She laughed again, clearly pleased with herself, and I couldn’t help smiling along with her.

We ended up spending the rest of the night talking about practically nothing, jumping from one subject to another without any particular direction.

Somehow, neither of us seemed to run out of things to say.