Chapter 7 - Same Time Next New Year's

I lose track of time talking to Leo. It’s scary how effortless it is to talk with him. There isn’t a moment where I find myself scrambling to think of something to say. I don’t even have to try and think of a response while he’s talking. I’m able to listen intently to every word that comes out of his mouth, and before I know it, I’m responding.

“I can’t believe you’ve never left the country,” he exclaims.

Through my laugh I say, “There was never an opportunity!”

“Okay well what’s the farthest you’ve traveled?” he asks.

I think about that for a moment. “Hmm.” I take a tiny sip of wine. “Maybe Seattle?”

“Oh that’s awesome, I’ve never been there.”

“It was great,” I tell him. “A bit rainy, but really incredible. What about you?”

“The farthest I’ve traveled?” he asks for clarity.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Sicily,” he says. I sigh in jealousy. “I’ve been there twice. Once before my grandfather passed, which made it really special to have him and my grandmother be able to show us where they lived and grew up. Seeing where they came from was a really significant experience for my family.”

“I’m so glad that you had that opportunity,” I say sincerely, smiling. “I’d love to go to Italy one day.”

“I’ll take you,” he says.

I grin. “Before we meet in person?” I joke.

“I think meeting for the first time in Italy would be much more exciting,” he fires back with amusement.

“Flying across the world to meet a stranger for the first time,” I ponder. “What could go wrong?”

He chuckles. “It would be a hell of an origin story for us.”

“I think we already have a pretty awesome origin story.” The words leave my mouth before I’m able to register how forward they can be taken.

“Yeah, I think we do,” he says softly. There’s a bit of silence that hangs between us for several moments. But then he clears his throat and says, “Would it totally freak you out if we did a video call?”

My heart beat picks up. “Uh…” I trail off.

“We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable doing that, Jo. Seriously,” he tells me kindly. Honestly.

Should I video call with a stranger? Even though I’ve talked to him more today than I have talked to Greg in the last several years, he’s still a stranger. Even though I already feel this unexpected sort of camaraderie with him, he’s still a stranger.

But even if he turns out to be a creep and a pervert, and deep down I really don’t believe that’s the case, he doesn’t know where I live. He doesn’t even know my last name.

Unless he’s tracking my phone…

“Are you tracking my phone?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“Huh?” he asks, confusion laced in his voice. “I wouldn’t even know how to do that… but I promise you, I’m not.”

And maybe I’m a naive idiot, but I believe him. “Okay.”

“Okay you believe me that I’m not tracking your phone?” he presses carefully.

“Yes, and”—I take a deep breath—“yes we can video call?” My statement turns into a question.

Barely a few seconds pass before my phone starts alerting me that Leo is video calling me. I give myself a little inner pep talk before I switch on the lamp that’s next to me. I accept the call and cover my face with my hand, so only my eyes are peeking out.

His face fills the screen, and I immediately get nervous again. My heart thumps so hard it almost feels like my ears are pulsing. And then my hands start sweating.

He looks exactly like the photo he sent earlier. He’s grinning, and I quickly and easily decide that I really love his smile. It looks like his phone is propped up on something, maybe a table or desk, and his arms are folded on the surface in front of him. He’s wearing a light blue hoodie. His brown eyes are just as warm as they seemed in the photo, and his perfect golden skin seems to glow in whatever lighting situation he has going on.

“Hi,” he says, his grin growing wider.

“Hi.” I breathe out a laugh, my hand still covering my face.

“Can you remove your hand please?” He chuckles.

With a sigh, I drop my hand into my lap and hold my phone up with the other one. “Hi,” I say again and give him a closed-mouth smile.

I wish I had looked in the mirror before answering the call. I’m sure what little makeup I applied this morning is mostly gone, and my hair is probably flat. I sneak a peek at my little face in the corner of my screen and try to finger brush my hair. “I haven’t looked in a mirror since this morning, so this is what you get.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, I grow nervous and hot under his eyes. They seem to be looking right into my soul.

I’m about to lose my nerve and just hang up as he says softer than I’ve heard him yet, “You’re beautiful.” His voice rings with sincerity. I roll my eyes as I feel a blush fill my cheeks. He lets out a small breath before saying, “Oh my God, your blush is so much better than I imagined.”

I shake my head. “You’re a liar.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. That’s one thing you can always count on—I’m almost too honest. My family tells me I could ease up on the honesty, or at least work on my filter.”

“So you’ve never lied?” I try to joke.

He makes a face that makes me breathe a tiny laugh. “I mean…when I was a kid and a punk, maybe once or twice.”

“Only once or twice?” I grin.

“Okay, okay. But probably only the normal amount of dishonesty that all kids encounter,” he admits with a sigh.

I laugh and his smile grows. I pluck up the tiny speck of confidence I can summon and say, “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.” His lips roll into his mouth and it looks like he might bite down on them a bit. And then I watch as a little bit of pink creeps into his cheeks now. “Oh, and there’s that blush.” I’m flirting with him. Openly and unashamedly flirting with him.

His full and deep laugh fills me up. “I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever been more freakin’ bashful in my life as I’ve been today.”

I laugh again. “I can say the same thing. I never ever do this.”

His mouth parts as his face turns into an expression of shock. “You mean you never video call with a stranger that accidentally texted you?”

I give him a serious nod. “I know it’s hard to believe. But I speak the truth.”

He laughs. “Well good. I wouldn’t feel so special if I found out you do this to every Joe Shmoe.”

“You can rest assured that you’re the only one,” I tell him.

His hand comes up and he rests it under his chin. “I’m the only one?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

I nod, biting on my cheek to suppress my own smile. “Yeah.”

“You’re the only one too.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t make it a habit to text the wrong number?” I joke.

He gives me a little side smile. “Do you mean to tell me that you have never texted the wrong number?”

“I absolutely have,” I tell him. “Actually in high school, I had this boyfriend. One time when I was hanging out with him, I texted my mom about how I wanted to break up with him, but I didn’t know how to do it. He was the absolute nicest guy. There was no logical reason that we shouldn’t have been perfect together. But I just knew in my gut it wasn’t right for me. So I was texting all of that to my mom…” I trail off, my face turning into a grimace.

“Oh no…” Leo says seriously. “Tell me you didn’t⁠—”

“Accidentally send the text to him instead?” I finish, “Yep. That’s exactly what I did.”

“Oh, Jo,” he cries, his face turning into a mixture of pity and disbelief. “That’s awful.”

“I still get a knot in my stomach, to this day.” I laugh apologetically. “The worst part was he had to drive me home. So we just sat in the car silently. He was crying, and I wanted to bash my head into the window.”

He covers his mouth with his hand, his chuckle sounding strained. “You win for the most unfortunate thing to ever happen to someone.”

“The most unfortunate?” I laugh. “I guess at the time it definitely was. But it’s been years since I accidentally texted the wrong number.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve definitely texted the wrong number before, too, but it always ended with ‘you have the wrong number.’ And then they ghost me.”

I chuckle. “So what was different about today?”

He stares at me, his face thoughtful and searching. I hold his eye contact through the phone screen even though everything in my mind is screaming at me to look away out of nervousness. But I don’t.

He finally says, “I guess you.”

I feel my cheeks heat. My nervousness is quickly and easily replaced by comfort. Reassurance. Before he can comment on that I ask, “It was my cringey selfie, wasn’t it?”

He grins and shakes his head, his chin still propped up with his fist. “That photo stopped me in my tracks.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“Hey, I don’t lie,” he reminds me.

“We’ll see about that,” I answer.

“You will,” he says, his words like a promise.