The Friend Zone
Page 2
GrayG: Hi-larious! Really. Night, Special Sauce.
IvyMac: Night, G-Man. ;-*
Several text exchanges after that…
GrayG: I’m bored. Talk to me. Again. Heh. Heh.
IvyMac: Soup has got to be the best thing ever. It’s an entire meal in a bowl! But in hot liquid form.
GrayG: Hot liquid form…? Unh. I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl, Ivy Mac. Or did someone tell you that soup was my favorite meal?
IvyMac: You love soup too?!? Soup-lovers’ fist bump! Booyah!
GrayG: Booyah! And, baby, I make the best soup you’ll ever taste.
IvyMac: Oooh, talk to me, Grayson. Just. Like. That.
GrayG: Marry me, Mac.
IvyMac: Okay, but only for the soup.
A few minutes later…
GrayG: Why is six scared of seven?
IvyMac: Why?
GrayG: Because seven “ate” nine.
IvyMac: Hur! How do you count cows?
GrayG: How?
IvyMac: With a cowculator.
GrayG: So awesomely bad. I think you have to marry me now. No one else likes my jokes.
IvyMac: Good to know my bad taste in jokes is a selling point.
GrayG: It’s fucking sexy. I’m actually sporting wood.
GrayG: Mac?
GrayG: Hey, I was kidding. I’m not trying to hit on you, I swear.
GrayG: Mac?!?
IvyMac: I’m here. Sorry! I’m on the tube. Lost you in a tunnel.
GrayG: Okay. Cool. Got worried.
IvyMac: Naw. I know you were just being you.
GrayG: That’s me, always joking. Gotta head out to practice. Txt U when I’m done.
Later that day…
IvyMac: I spent the entire morning baking bread and thinking about your name.
GrayG: My name? Honey, if you’re going to think about me, concentrate on my gigantic…hands. Magic hands, baby. The things I can do with these hands are mind-boggling.
IvyMac: Like palm balls all day long?
GrayG: >:-(
IvyMac: Heh. Heh. Your name is way more interesting than your penchant for ball handling.
GrayG: Har. Gray Grayson is a special kind of torture to inflict on a kid. What can I say? My mom was reading The Pelican Brief right before I was born. Decided to name me after the hero Gray Grantham. No one could change her mind. I used to hate it. But now I love it because she picked a name she loved.
IvyMac: It’s a cool name. Bounces in my head: Gray-Grayson. Gray-Grayson!
GrayG: Hands, Mac. Think about the hands.
IvyMac: Gray-Grayson, grabbing balls with his big, strong hands…!
IvyMac: Hello?
IvyMac: Hello?
IvyMac: Spoilsport.
And a few hours after that…
IvyMac: I can’t sleep. Talk to me.
GrayG: Why can’t you sleep?
IvyMac: Because it’s nine-fucking-thirty. I have to go to sleep early because I have to get up early. Have I mentioned how much I hate getting up early?
GrayG: Aside from the three times in that text? Yeah, a bit. ;-) I run plays through my head when I can’t sleep.
IvyMac: Yep. That should do it. I’m glazing over just thinking about it. Thanks, Cupcake.
GrayG: Glad to be of service, honey. You can always count on me.
IvyMac: You’re starting to be the first person I turn to. If that freaks you out, tell me. I’ll dial it down.
GrayG: What? No. Don’t take this wrong, but I’ve kind of become addicted to your texts.
IvyMac: Me too. Talking to you is like talking to myself. Only better.
GrayG: It’s scary that I get that.
GrayG: I feel like I can tell you anything.
IvyMac: You can. That’s what friends do.
GrayG: I’ve never been friends with a girl before.
IvyMac: I’m honored to be your first.
The next morning…
GrayG: So as friends, can I still say inappropriate, sex-related things?
IvyMac: Sure. Think of me as just another guy. With a vagina.
GrayG: A. Shudder. B. Yeah, no. C. I had this dream that you were sucking my 8==> But when I looked down, I discovered it was actually a goat…you know. Then I really woke up because I yelled so hard, I fell out of bed. And now I live in mortal terror of goats.
IvyMac: LMFAO! Gray got it from a goat!
GrayG: >:-[
IvyMac: Goat-on-Gray action! Heeeee! *Falls down ded*
GrayG: You suck, you know that?
IvyMac: No, the goat does! *Dies again* My sides. My sides!
GrayG: Laugh it up, Chuckles.
IvyMac: Okay. I’m good now. Aw, Cupcake, I’m so glad we’re friends. It means a lot to me. I feel safe with you. Like I can be me without worrying about sex getting in the way of things. Or something.
IvyMac: I’m rambling. Ignore me.
GrayG: Honey, your friendship is a fucking gift. Don’t ever doubt it.
After a few more texts, and a few hours of going without…
GrayG: So I got into it with Drew. He accused me of trying to fuck his girl. I would NEVER fucking do that. Whatever people think about me, I would die before I did that shit.
IvyMac: I’d never believe that of you, Gray. I’m sorry you’re hurt. :-(
GrayG: I’m not hurt. You wouldn’t? How do you know for sure? I’m kind of known as a player. Shit, maybe I should call myself Sir Fucksalot.
IvyMac: Stop it. Any guy who crams into a tiny pink car and willingly drives it around town as a favor to his friend wouldn’t turn around and stab that friend in the back. Player or not, you’re a good guy. And I’m the only one who can call you Sir Fucksalot! >:-[
IvyMac: It’s okay to be hurt, btw. I’d be hurt if my friend accused me of that. Do you want me to come home and kick his ass? Cuz I got skillz. Mad ass-kicking skillz.
IvyMac: Night, G-Man. ;-*
Several text exchanges after that…
GrayG: I’m bored. Talk to me. Again. Heh. Heh.
IvyMac: Soup has got to be the best thing ever. It’s an entire meal in a bowl! But in hot liquid form.
GrayG: Hot liquid form…? Unh. I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl, Ivy Mac. Or did someone tell you that soup was my favorite meal?
IvyMac: You love soup too?!? Soup-lovers’ fist bump! Booyah!
GrayG: Booyah! And, baby, I make the best soup you’ll ever taste.
IvyMac: Oooh, talk to me, Grayson. Just. Like. That.
GrayG: Marry me, Mac.
IvyMac: Okay, but only for the soup.
A few minutes later…
GrayG: Why is six scared of seven?
IvyMac: Why?
GrayG: Because seven “ate” nine.
IvyMac: Hur! How do you count cows?
GrayG: How?
IvyMac: With a cowculator.
GrayG: So awesomely bad. I think you have to marry me now. No one else likes my jokes.
IvyMac: Good to know my bad taste in jokes is a selling point.
GrayG: It’s fucking sexy. I’m actually sporting wood.
GrayG: Mac?
GrayG: Hey, I was kidding. I’m not trying to hit on you, I swear.
GrayG: Mac?!?
IvyMac: I’m here. Sorry! I’m on the tube. Lost you in a tunnel.
GrayG: Okay. Cool. Got worried.
IvyMac: Naw. I know you were just being you.
GrayG: That’s me, always joking. Gotta head out to practice. Txt U when I’m done.
Later that day…
IvyMac: I spent the entire morning baking bread and thinking about your name.
GrayG: My name? Honey, if you’re going to think about me, concentrate on my gigantic…hands. Magic hands, baby. The things I can do with these hands are mind-boggling.
IvyMac: Like palm balls all day long?
GrayG: >:-(
IvyMac: Heh. Heh. Your name is way more interesting than your penchant for ball handling.
GrayG: Har. Gray Grayson is a special kind of torture to inflict on a kid. What can I say? My mom was reading The Pelican Brief right before I was born. Decided to name me after the hero Gray Grantham. No one could change her mind. I used to hate it. But now I love it because she picked a name she loved.
IvyMac: It’s a cool name. Bounces in my head: Gray-Grayson. Gray-Grayson!
GrayG: Hands, Mac. Think about the hands.
IvyMac: Gray-Grayson, grabbing balls with his big, strong hands…!
IvyMac: Hello?
IvyMac: Hello?
IvyMac: Spoilsport.
And a few hours after that…
IvyMac: I can’t sleep. Talk to me.
GrayG: Why can’t you sleep?
IvyMac: Because it’s nine-fucking-thirty. I have to go to sleep early because I have to get up early. Have I mentioned how much I hate getting up early?
GrayG: Aside from the three times in that text? Yeah, a bit. ;-) I run plays through my head when I can’t sleep.
IvyMac: Yep. That should do it. I’m glazing over just thinking about it. Thanks, Cupcake.
GrayG: Glad to be of service, honey. You can always count on me.
IvyMac: You’re starting to be the first person I turn to. If that freaks you out, tell me. I’ll dial it down.
GrayG: What? No. Don’t take this wrong, but I’ve kind of become addicted to your texts.
IvyMac: Me too. Talking to you is like talking to myself. Only better.
GrayG: It’s scary that I get that.
GrayG: I feel like I can tell you anything.
IvyMac: You can. That’s what friends do.
GrayG: I’ve never been friends with a girl before.
IvyMac: I’m honored to be your first.
The next morning…
GrayG: So as friends, can I still say inappropriate, sex-related things?
IvyMac: Sure. Think of me as just another guy. With a vagina.
GrayG: A. Shudder. B. Yeah, no. C. I had this dream that you were sucking my 8==> But when I looked down, I discovered it was actually a goat…you know. Then I really woke up because I yelled so hard, I fell out of bed. And now I live in mortal terror of goats.
IvyMac: LMFAO! Gray got it from a goat!
GrayG: >:-[
IvyMac: Goat-on-Gray action! Heeeee! *Falls down ded*
GrayG: You suck, you know that?
IvyMac: No, the goat does! *Dies again* My sides. My sides!
GrayG: Laugh it up, Chuckles.
IvyMac: Okay. I’m good now. Aw, Cupcake, I’m so glad we’re friends. It means a lot to me. I feel safe with you. Like I can be me without worrying about sex getting in the way of things. Or something.
IvyMac: I’m rambling. Ignore me.
GrayG: Honey, your friendship is a fucking gift. Don’t ever doubt it.
After a few more texts, and a few hours of going without…
GrayG: So I got into it with Drew. He accused me of trying to fuck his girl. I would NEVER fucking do that. Whatever people think about me, I would die before I did that shit.
IvyMac: I’d never believe that of you, Gray. I’m sorry you’re hurt. :-(
GrayG: I’m not hurt. You wouldn’t? How do you know for sure? I’m kind of known as a player. Shit, maybe I should call myself Sir Fucksalot.
IvyMac: Stop it. Any guy who crams into a tiny pink car and willingly drives it around town as a favor to his friend wouldn’t turn around and stab that friend in the back. Player or not, you’re a good guy. And I’m the only one who can call you Sir Fucksalot! >:-[
IvyMac: It’s okay to be hurt, btw. I’d be hurt if my friend accused me of that. Do you want me to come home and kick his ass? Cuz I got skillz. Mad ass-kicking skillz.
