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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 mindboggling.
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.
