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Only a few more days, and then I will be brave enough to return. I really need to gather the courage to call Olive back too. She deserves to know what’s going on, and it’s not her fault Durian is a dick bag.

Cinnamon: i hope so. I kinda miss my shit box apartment

John: I wish you were back too. I haven’t eaten anything nearly as good since you fed me

Cinnamon: lol I can teach you how to make the whack mac if you want.

Warmth floods me at the thought of spending more time with John. I know it isn’t safe—he’s a detective after all—but he is so kind. It was surprisingly easy to relax in his presence, and even now, my lips won’t stop smiling.

A kindred soul.

John: just tell me a date

Date. My heart flickers with apprehension, even though I know that’s not what he means.

Cinnamon: I have a job coming up, but soon please.

It takes him longer to respond, and I am fearful I may have said something wrong, but then he finally replies.

John: Just let me know when, but it’s late. Get some sleep Cinnamon. I’ll text you tomorrow

My smile returns at his words, setting my phone down. But as soon as I do, it vibrates and my anxiety spikes.

Is that Durian?

It’s not.

Orzo: I want you to cook for me. My house.

Cinnamon: Anything you want in particular?

Orzo: Mac and cheese. Tomorrow night.

I laugh out loud, but then my eyes bounce back to the laptop.

Cinnamon: Do you know anything about Bitcoin?

Orzo: Why

Part of me wants to explain.

Cinnamon: NVM. Sure I’ll make you dinner, but you have to supply the ingredients and this isn’t a date.

Orzo: goodnight. Put your phone on the charger

There is still uneasiness of the prospect of spending too much time with Orzo and my luck leaching out onto him, but I swallow it down. I feel better focusing my energy on John too.

As if, with my mind divided, neither will get hurt because of me. And both of them are forcing themselves into my lives in different ways.

There’s a creak outside my door, except Sherry is gone, off on a trip with her elusive sister. The house should be empty.

Setting the laptop on the bed, I walk to the door, whipping it open.

No one’s there. I’m losing it. I need to chill out.

But when I look down, I see my purple frog.

I thought I left you in the car. I must have dropped it on my way inside.