IvyMac: You aren’t bugging me. I’m just grumpy because I hate getting up early. People say I’m…prickly. I don’t mean to be.

GrayG: Prickly? Naw. You’re…saucy. Like that sauce on a Big Mac.

IvyMac: If you call me special sauce, you lose a nut.

GrayG: I knew it, you’re talking dirty to me! Shenanigans!!

IvyMac: lol. Dork.

GrayG: That’s Cupcake to you, Special Sauce. Go to sleep, Mac. I’ll get to work on the rims.

IvyMac: >:-P

And the next morning…

IvyMac: I was walking down Jermyn Street today. Saw a guy in a bright pink suit, very flash. Thinking of buying you one to match the car. You could make a whole pink power statement.

GrayG: Great! But I’m pretty sure that’d have to be custom made. Extra-long, too. I dress left, btw.

IvyMac: Is it just me, or do you mention one of your body parts in every convo we have?

GrayG: You’re the one who brought up my nuts last time.

IvyMac: Only in regards to kicking them.

GrayG: But you’re thinking of my nuts. That’s the important part. ;-)

IvyMac: Sure I am, Cupcake. *pats cheek* keep dreaming the dream.

GrayG: I knew it!!! You want me bad. It’s okay, all women do.

IvyMac: Right.

A bit later…

IvyMac: Why are you borrowing my car, anyway? I find it hard to believe you don’t have your own. Is it in the shop? For-like-ever?

GrayG: My best bud Drew (he’s our QB) broke his leg. His car has a stick shift. My truck is auto. So I lent him mine and borrowed…The Pink Nightmare.

IvyMac: Gray. That’s really nice of you.

GrayG: Told you I was sweet.

IvyMac: You actually are. Totally sweet.

GrayG: Now you’re just embarrassing me. I lied. I’m a hardened thug. For realz.

IvyMac: Aw, Cupcake.

IvyMac: Gray?

IvyMac: Hello?

IvyMac: Fine, you’re a stone-cold killa. Happy?

GrayG: Yes. Although I’d prefer lady killa.

IvyMac: How about Sir Fucksalot?

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! >:-[