Texting (The Complete Series

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Texting (The Complete Series Page 3

by Teagan Hunter


  Zach: So, what did you knit me?

  Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Zach: ARE THOSE PENIS POTHOLDERS!

  Zach: You dirty, dirty girl.

  Zach: I am laughing so fucking hard right now. Thank you for that.

  Me: You likey?

  Zach: I likey.

  Me: I’ll think of you every single time I use them.

  Zach: You’re too kind. They’re a wonderful gift I doubt I’ll ever receive.

  Me: Hey, Zach?

  Zach: Yes?

  Me: I…I didn’t mean to bring up your mom. I had no idea.

  Zach: Don’t sweat it. You’re still my favorite penis potholder maker…this week.

  Me: Is there anything else I should know about you? Any other subjects that are off the table?

  Zach: I hate clowns and bunnies. That’s about it.

  Me: I’m sorry…BUNNIES?! How is that possible?

  Zach: Don’t judge me. I’m sure there’s something weird out there that you’re afraid of.

  Me: I can’t think of anything like that. Mine is just normal stuff, like spiders and snakes and volcanoes.

  Zach: Volcanoes…but those are part of nature.

  Me: So are bunnies!

  Me: Also, have you seen Dante’s Peak? *shudders*

  Zach: That movie isn’t even kind of scary!

  Me: YES IT IS!

  Me: Fine. What kind of movies scare you?

  Zach: Normal ones, like Alice in Wonderland, Zootopia (BUNNIES), and Pinocchio. And Trolls.

  Me: Trolls? As in the animated movie?

  Zach: STOP JUDGING ME!

  Me: There is no way I’ll ever not judge you now.

  Zach: I’m so bored. Work is killing me today.

  Me: I’m sitting in an accounting class. I win in our game of suckage.

  Zach: Ouch. I bow to your bravery, my fair queen.

  Me: …

  Me: Did you just say that? Is your brain poisoned from all the video games? What type video games ARE you playing?

  Me: Are you secretly twelve? Because I feel like that’s something a twelve-year-old would say.

  Zach: Who in the world taught you how to socialize? Do you say the first thing that pops into your head? Are you deranged?

  Me: My mother. Sometimes. Possibly.

  Zach: You are incredibly exhausting.

  Me: But still awesome.

  Zach: And humble. We can’t forget that one.

  Me: Check you out, having my back and all. BESTIES FOR LIFE.

  Me: *whispers* But really…did you just say that? Are you still living in your parent’s basement?

  Zach: Yes, I really said it. I might have fibbed about my video game playing. It’s frequent…obnoxiously so. I tend to play RPG games, but no, I don’t live in a basement. I work in one.

  Me: Because that’s not still weird…

  Zach: If it makes you feel any better, I own the basement I work in.

  Me: Your street cred IS improving.

  Zach: Oh thank god. I was worried you would never bug me ever again.

  Me: Wish in one hand…

  Zach: Aren’t you supposed to be paying attention in class?

  Me: Yes. Now shut up.

  Zach: *sends you a thousand cat pictures*

  Me: Don’t threaten me with a good time.

  Me: Cake, brownies, ice cream? GO!

  Zach: Yes.

  Me: NO! Pick one! HURRY!

  Me: I’m at the store getting ready to check out and I NEED TO KNOW. I can’t decide. Help a cute, hangry girl out, would ya?

  Zach: How about…a brownie cake with ice cream.

  Me: I think I just came.

  Zach: I am known for my skills.

  Me: Stop it. I’m in the middle of the damn grocery store. Save that talk for later. ;-)

  Zach: Wait…really?

  Me: OMG no. Pervert.

  Zach: YOU STARTED IT.

  Me: I need you to pick between CAKE, BROWNIES, and ICE CREAM.

  Zach: Umm…brownies. With chocolate and vanilla ice cream on top. Chocolate sauce drizzled over it. And sprinkles.

  Me: I hate you.

  Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Me: I put it all in my cart.

  Me: It will be your fault when I fall into a sugar coma.

  Zach: You can thank me later.

  Me: You promise to come to my funeral?

  Zach: And recount all the marvelous memories we’ve had together, including where I gently pushed you to feast upon magical desserts. I’ll lean down to your casket and whisper, “You’re welcome.”

  Me: BRB, dying.

  Me: Entertain me, squire!

  Me: Did I say that right?

  Zach: Good enough for me.

  Zach: Would you rather have 1,000 puppies who barked constantly or one who hated you and never let you pet it?

  Me: What in the actual hell is wrong with you?!

  Zach: You HAVE to pick. It’s the only rule of Would You Rather.

  Me: I asked you to entertain me, not torture me.

  Zach: Tick tock.

  Me: FINE. One puppy who hated me. Even though it’s the saddest thing ever, I know I couldn’t stand the barking of a thousand adorable, fluffy puppies.

  Zach: I think that would be a wise decision.

  Me: More entertainment, stat. I love my roommate to death but she just put on the dumbest show ever.

  Zach: Which show?

  Me: Something about boys in trailer parks and propane.

  Zach: Oh, well, okay then. I was not expecting that answer.

  Me: I wasn’t expecting to have to sit through this painful show.

  Zach: Do you want to build a…

  Me: SNOWMAN. IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE A SNOWMAN.

  Zach: No. I hit send too soon. Stop it.

  Zach: AS I WAS SAYING…build a tiny house or an elaborate tree house?

  Me: Are you literally the devil? Do you have horns and hooves and evil minions?

  Zach: What did I do now?

  Me: 1. I have acrophobia, fear of heights. 2. I’m claustrophobic. 3. ARE YOU THE DAMN DEVIL?!

  Zach: *dies of laughter*

  Zach: How in the hell did I manage to unknowingly hit on your two greatest fears at the same time?

  Me: Because you’re evil incarnate.

  Zach: I’m not even sorry. *dies again*

  Zach: Distraction tactic—what’s your favorite kind of cereal?

  Me: Cap’n Crunch. Hurts so good. Yours?

  Zach: Lucky Charms. Because just like me, they’re magically delicious.

  Me: *stares*

  Zach: Fine, fine. It’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I just wanted to use that cheesy line.

  Me: Did you even say it with a straight face?

  Zach: Hell no.

  Zach: Okay, what’s one place you’d love to visit?

  Me: Easy. Alaska.

  Zach: Are you a winter woman?

  Me: Kind of. I’m more of a fall gal. I’m slightly obsessed with Halloween.

  Zach: No.

  Me: Yes?

  Zach: That’s my favorite holiday. Ever. Fuck birthdays and Christmas and presents. I want Halloween. Give me spooky and candy any damn day.

  Me: We’re a match made in heaven.

  Me: Please tell me you dress up.

  Zach: I was The Green Arrow last year. You?

  Me: Belle…for the last three years.

  Zach: I was the red Ranger for six years when I was younger.

  Me: I was the pink one for four.

  Zach: Is this…meant to be?

  Me: We’ll see.

  4

  Zach: You should know I have accomplished approximately zero things today. Like, I don’t even have pants on. Happy Wednesday!

  Me: You sit around in your house with only your panties on?

  Zach: I do not wear “panties”, thank you very much. I wear manly boxer briefs.

  Me: With weird characters on them, don’t you?

  Zach: How did you know that? />
  Me: I have a brother, remember? Underneath his clean-cut teacher getup is a pair of Marvel underwear.

  Zach: Marvel? Seriously?

  Me: You not a Marvel fan?

  Zach: I’m an X-Men and Deadpool fan. That’s about it.

  Me: Sigh. Ryan Reynolds. I can get behind him…or on top of him…or underneath. Whichever he prefers.

  Zach: Naughty, naughty Delia.

  Me: *shrugs* I’d climb him like Jack climbed the beanstalk.

  Zach: Have you seen his other movies?

  Me: Don’t insult me, Zachary. It’s very unbecoming.

  Zach: Which is your favorite?

  Me: Waiting. It’s perfect in a disgusting way. Yours?

  Zach: You’ll make fun of me…

  Me: I would never!

  Me: I can’t even lie through text. I so would.

  Zach: SEE?!

  Me: Tell me, you big baby.

  Zach: Fine…

  Zach: The Proposal

  Me: NO. NO WAY. The movie with Sandra Bullock? And crazy Betty White?

  Zach: Yes…

  Me: The romcom, correct? Just want to be certain I get this right for your street cred chart.

  Zach: YES DAMMIT

  Me: I’m not laughing.

  Zach: You are, which is why I didn’t want to tell you.

  Me: I’m wildly impressed that you did. Most guys would just scour the internet to find his most macho movie, spit out a generic fact about it, and call it their favorite.

  Me: You just scored big in my book.

  Me: Hey, Zach?

  Zach: Yeah?

  Me: I’m still laughing.

  Zach: I’m glad I accomplished something today, though making you laugh wasn’t my intent…

  Me: Honestly, it helped. There was a wicked rude customer in earlier and my manager was involved, so your confession made my night.

  Zach: You’re at work at this hour?

  Me: Yes, but only because I’m filling in for someone else. I don’t usually stay this late on weeknights.

  Zach: I have a strict eight-to-five schedule, no weekends. I had to implement it after I realized I was working about 100 hours a week and had zero social life. Not that I have a social life now, but it’s the principle of it.

  Me: We can be no-social-life-having losers together! *high five*

  Zach: HUZZAH

  Me: Yeah, whatever that means. Gotta run. Cleanup duty is calling!

  Zach: Farewell, handmaiden.

  Me: So clever…NOT.

  “Come on, Delia, please. One drink and we can leave.”

  “We have alcohol in this very house. We don’t need to go out and buy overpriced drinks.”

  Zoe huffs and throws a hand to her hip. “You haven’t left this house for a social anything in like three weeks. You need to go out, if only for one drink. Please, I’m starting to worry about you.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Zoe. I’m fine. I have plenty to do here.”

  “You’ve rearranged my closet…twice, and you organized the freezer because you didn’t like where I put the peas. You have to go out and do something besides shuffle everything around before I can’t find a damn thing in this apartment ever again.”

  “I think that’s a little excessive,” I mutter. When she pins me with a glare, I roll my eyes and pull myself off my bed. “Fine. One drink and we scram.”

  “Deal!” She claps her hands together and giggles. “This is going to be fun! Wear something cute.”

  She’s zooming out of my room and into hers, where I hear her rummaging around her closet while muttering about how she can’t find anything. I smirk and set about getting ready myself.

  I assume we’re headed down to Lola’s, so I know what I can get away with clothes-wise. I pull out a striped blue and white tee and a pair of black leggings, throwing them on as Zoe comes flying back into my room.

  “I invited a few friends. Hope you don’t mind! Bye!”

  She’s gone again.

  I pull my outfit together with a long black vest, a pair of black booties, small silver hoop earrings, and light makeup. I already threw my hair into a side braid earlier and it fits my style perfectly, so I leave it as is.

  Not bothering to knock on Zoe’s door, I bust into her room.

  “OMG! I’M NAKED!”

  “I have titties too. Not like I haven’t seen a pair before.”

  “But mine are special,” she tosses over her shoulder at me.

  “Right, and my vagina is a magical haven.”

  “Hey, you said it, not me.” She snaps her bra into place and spins back around. “Oh my gosh! Your outfit is cute! There’s no doubt you’ll attract attention tonight.”

  I don’t want attention tonight. I want to crawl back in bed and sit with my phone in my hand for the next several hours.

  “It’s just leggings and a tee, no big deal.”

  “Just take the friggin’ compliment and go away. I’ll be out in five.”

  “So, ten?”

  She flips me off. “Five, you brat.”

  “Drinks are on you if it’s ten.” I give her a finger wave and slip out the door before she throws something at me.

  Me: My roomie is forcing me out of the apartment for “one” drink. We’ll either abide by that rule or we’ll come home at two in the morning.

  Zach: I could go for a beer…or ten. It’s one of those days.

  Me: Ugh. Want to talk about it?

  Zach: I probably should, but I’d rather drown my sorrows in booze and video games.

  Me: So healthy.

  Me: Sorry, that was a dick thing to say.

  Zach: I like it when you say dick things. Keeps it real.

  Zach: Also, you’re right. It’s not healthy. I lost about four hours’ worth of work because of a power surge. My backups didn’t perform as they should have and now I’m starting over and will be working into the wee hours of the morning.

  Me: Okay, yeah, that IS a shit day. Beer time?

  Zach: Beer time. Then back to work. I meandered outside to grab some fresh air and talk myself out of smashing my computer.

  Me: I think that was a smart move. Is it helping at all?

  Zach: Give me a few more minutes and I’ll let you know.

  Zach: Why don’t you want to go out with your friend?

  Me: Let’s just say I’m much more comfortable staying home and watching Netflix than I am hanging out at the bar with randbros.

  Zach: Random bros. Clever.

  Me: Thank you. But, yeah, it’s not my scene. Never has been, but she thinks I need to get out and “get back in the saddle”.

  Zach: Recent breakup?

  Me: Ish? The night you first texted me was when we broke up.

  Zach: You were already falling for me then. Knew it *smirk*

  Me: SMIRK? REALLY!?

  Me: I cannot believe I talk to you.

  Zach: Technically, you text to me.

  Me: Please do not remind me.

  Zach: I think you secretly enjoy our chats.

  “Ha! Nine minutes and thirty seconds. You gotta buy your own drinks.”

  I snap my head toward Zoe, quickly shutting off my phone screen like she has superpowers and can read the messages through the back.

  I don’t know why I haven’t told Zoe about Zach. I should because it’s not a big deal, as there is nothing romantic going on between the two of us, but I like having Zach to myself, enjoy the way he’s making me feel. We text every day, all day—have since he called me that afternoon when we realized our mistake. For weeks now, we’ve been going back and forth. It’s nothing deep or poetic, but it’s still something special.

  Zach makes me feel special.

  Which is so stupid and silly because I don’t even know the guy.

 

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