I frown. Even though we came up with this idea together, I’m surprised that he’s actually going along with it.
Priscilla
You realize that if this is going to work, Ryan is going to need to seriously step his game up, right?
Oliver
What are we talking? Tuxedo?
Priscilla
Way more than just that…
Oliver
Let’s talk about it tomorrow. My place?
Priscilla
Sure.
Oliver
Go to bed (:
I frown, staring at the smiley face in his message. With a huff, I put my phone away and roll over, closing my eyes. The bright side about not working for someone else is that I make my own schedule. I can toss and turn all night and then sleep in late tomorrow morning. With that thought in mind, I finally drift off to sleep.
* * *
I spend most of the day working on my business plan and brainstorming ideas for my website. I check the ad I put out last week for dancers for the flash mob, but so far there aren’t any responses.
I look at my phone. I’ve checked it more times than I care to admit, waiting for Oliver to tell me that he’s home from work and I can come over. At half past six, I get tired of waiting, so I pick up my phone and text him.
Priscilla
Still want to talk about the proposal, or did you come to your senses and realize how ridiculous this plan is?
I reread the message, reconsidering what I’ve sent. I sigh, then toss my phone down to stop myself from sending another text. As soon as it hits the couch, it buzzes with a new message.
Oliver
At band practice. Won’t be home until late.
I roll my eyes. I don’t know why he invited me over if he knew he was going to be gone all day. I’m more annoyed with myself for waiting around all day to hear from him. He was probably half asleep when he texted me last night and doesn’t even remember inviting me. Now I feel stupid for thinking it was a real plan. Also, what kind of grown adult has band practice? Aside from actual band members, of course. I picture him rocking out in a garage with a bunch of nineteen-year-old stoners.
My phone buzzes again.
Oliver
Come over at 8?
It’s later than I expect, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to be. Plus, I want to make fun of him for being in a band and not telling me sooner.
I brainstorm some more business ideas while I eat dinner, and then I get dressed and head over to Oliver’s. I make it there with great timing because he’s just getting out of his car when I pull up.
He stops on his porch and waits for me to catch up.
“What instrument do you play?” I ask when I reach him. “Triangle?”
