You've Got a DM

BLAKE

When I open my eyes, the sun is beaming into my bedroom, the skies are blue, the sun is shining. It is a day for the beer garden. Grabbing my phone, I text my best friend, Charlie.

I jump in the shower, hoping the hot water will help wake me up after my restless night. Wrapping the towel around me, I go back to my room and pull together an outfit for the day.

I am thinking a summer dress and those cute little wedge sandals. As I do my hair, I opt for a wavy look and keep my makeup natural.

I check my phone and I have a missed call from Charlie. I call her back.

“Hi chick, so you up for a little day drinking?”She is giddy down the phone.

“That’s why I called, when you want to meet?”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, “How does 1:00 sound? Grab some lunch, too?”

Charlie immediately replies, “It’s a date.”

I walk to my favorite pub and find Charlie already waiting for me at the bar. “You’re late,” she says to me.

I smile at her and reply, “When am I ever on time, Charlie?”

The cute bartender makes his way over to us. “Hello ladies, what can I get you both today?”

Without even looking at the menu, we both say at the same time, “Pitcher of beer, please.”

Finding a table, we sit and chat for a while before ordering some food. My phone lights up.

I can’t help but smile, and Charlie doesn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, I know that smile, so who is he?” I hesitate before I tell her everything about what happened last night. Charlie takes a sip of her drink and looks at me like I have four heads.

“So he slid into your DMs by mistake and you haven’t blocked him?”

I know where this is going. “There hasn’t been any need for it, not yet anyway. He hasn’t done anything wrong, no unwanted dick pics.”

Charlie takes a sip of her pint. “Fair enough, just be careful, he could be catfishing you or some shit like that.”

I know she is worried, but I know what I am doing. Charlie gets up to go to the bathroom and I open the message.

I start to type back a message.

A few minutes later,

I tried to make the conversation a little light.

I decide we need a bit of an icebreaker and I offer a solution.

I glance over and find Charlie chatting up the cute bartender, so I have at least twenty minutes before she decides to grace me with her presence.

Not that I mind—something about Mark has my attention.

I decide to begin with some easy ones.

Hmm, that’s quite an age gap. Not that it bothers me, I have always been used to dating older men.

We ask a few more generic questions, I learn that he lives in New York, his favorite color is purple, he runs his own construction company.

Then when the last question comes I ask:

I wait for a reply, and nothing comes after a few minutes. Then I send a panic message.

Then I see his answer.

Knowing that she cheated on him, I can’t help but feel upset for him. The next words flabbergast me.

Well, fuck-a-doodle-do. I don’t want him to think he has spooked me with the direction the conversation has taken, so I try to make him laugh.

Hoping he gets my humor, it’s a relief when I see how he responds.

Mark sends another message, trying to change the subject.

Deciding not to push the subject any further, I tell him about my day.

I laugh at Mark’s response, agreeing with him.

Instead of a message I get a GIF of eyes popping out. Yeah, I know the feeling. Charlie is a straight shooter and takes most by surprise.

She gives zero fucks and enjoys life. Sometimes I wish I could have her carefree attitude.

I hear shuffling beside me and Charlie is back, looking pleased with herself.

“Guess who just scored a date for tonight?” Oh, here we go.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I give up, who?” She looks at me dead in the eyes.

“You’re not fucking funny.” I am on a roll today.

“I know for a fact I’m fucking hysterical, so what time are you ditching me?”

I finish up the last of my beer and head back to my place, deciding for yet another cozy night in for one. I decide to cook a nice meal, open a bottle of wine, and chill with a good book.

Losing track of time, I look at the clock and see it’s nearly 11 p.m. I wonder what Mark is up to right now. Granted, it would be 6 p.m. in New York.

My phone vibrates, scaring the shit out of me. What the fuck, it’s like he knew I was thinking about him.

Placing my book down, I reply.

We end up messaging until it’s 2 a.m. here. I want to keep messaging, but I am struggling to keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for just a minute. When I open them, there’s a message waiting for me.

And that’s exactly what I have, nothing but sweet dreams—about the guy in my phone.

MARK

I wake up and although today should have me drinking myself into a coma, I wake up almost like the old me, waking up a little brighter, a little happier. I wake up thinking of her.

Yes, weirdly she shares the same name as my ex, but there is something about this girl, I can’t put my finger on it. I wake up wanting to talk to her again, get to know her more.

I send her a message and, just like last night, the conversation flows. I didn’t know what to say when she asked me what my biggest regret is, but I opted for brutal honesty.

I am not hiding behind a keyboard pretending to be someone I am not.

In true Blake fashion, she makes me laugh, turning it into a positive when I tell her I regret proposing to my ex.

In the last 24 hours, this girl has helped flip a switch that has taken me weeks to get over myself. I am about to reply again when there is a knock at my door.

I open it to find my three best friends standing with big cheesy grins. “Right, get your shit together, we are going out for the day,” they say, pushing me back into my apartment.

“I have to say, for someone who was supposed to be getting married today, you aren’t a huge fucking mess as expected.”

I grin at them. “I am doing a lot better.”

Marcus shouts out from my kitchen. “Get your shit, we leave in ten minutes.”

I look at Scott. “What shit do I need?”

Scott laughs. “Swimming gear, towel, sunscreen, sunglasses, and your single self.”

I walk downstairs and Marcus has a limo waiting for us. We are heading toward 12th Avenue. When we pull up, we are at a heliport.

“HOLY SHIT, Marcus, what have you done?” Marcus beams from ear to ear, shouting and clapping me on the back.

“We are going to the Hamptons for the day, baby!”

We get in the helicopter and the next thing I know we are landing in the Hamptons. Marcus’ driver is waiting for us to take us to his place on the beach.

We spend the day drinking, enjoying the sun, and the boys spend the day checking out the women.

“So, Mark, we have given you space, it’s been a few weeks now, so when are you getting back out there?”

I look at Marcus. Justin has been quiet this trip.

“I accidentally put myself out there last night,” I tell them.

All their jaws drop to the floor. Scott gives me a cheeky grin. “What have you been up to? No wonder you’re not cut up about today.”

I tell the boys about the girl from London. Scott is the first to ask her name.

“Well, that’s where it’s awkward. Her name is Blake.” Marcus chokes on his beer. Justin has been on his phone the entire time, but this makes him finally join the conversation.

“Long story short, I thought I messaged my Blake, but I was a little out of it and clicked the wrong profile. We have been chatting ever since.”

Justin looks at me, stunned by my confession. “Why would you message her after all she has done to you?”

I can’t lie. “I missed her and just wanted to know why she did it.” Scott hands me another beer.

“We never found out who the bastard was?” I look at all three of them. “They are fucking welcome to her and good luck to the stupid bastard.”

We finally made our way back to Manhattan. The boys dropped me off first and as soon as I got into my apartment I pulled out my phone and messaged Blake and explained me going MIA.

My entire mood lifts when she messages back. We spend ages talking until Blake admits she’s struggling to stay awake. I send her one last message that read, “Night, Blake, sweet dreams. XO.”

It went unseen and I figured she had fallen asleep. And for the first time in weeks, I fell into a deep sleep.