Usually, online dating means finding someone online and then dating them in person. For Conor and me, it meant that all of our dates could only be online because we live two thousand five hundred freaking miles apart with a time difference of three hours.

The first Friday in March

I snuck straight to bed. After all, it didn’t matter where I would try not to fall asleep when I called Conor. I leaned on the oak wooden headrest and tapped his name on my phone.

Seconds later, I got the sweetest reward for my day I could have wished for—his smile on my screen. Okay, not true. I could wish to have him here and wake up next to him tomorrow. That would be awesome! Well, one can dream.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Strenuous,” I yawned and raised my hand to count everything that happened today. “One. Got up early for morning training. Two. Stupid geography and physics tests! Three. Basketball practice after school and—four. Not to forget the family dinner with too much family that doesn’t live here.”

My head was heavy. I leaned my phone on the lamp on my nightstand and placed my head on my pillow, glaring at the screen as if it was an aquarium.

“How was your rehearsal?” I sleepily asked.

His voice was so soothing that I imagined lying in his arms and... drifted off.

When I woke up, the sun already glowed through my blinds. I felt refreshed, as if I had slept for a century, but... Shit! Conor! My phone patiently waited under the turned-on lamp on my nightstand, showing a sleeping Conor. He didn’t hang up. I couldn’t hide a smile. That's why I feel so refreshed. Because my wish of waking up next to Conor somehow became true.

—

Want more? Head over to my Substack and also find some updates on the sequel!