Texting (The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  I toss my phone aside and close my eyes, leaning against my headboard, trying to calm myself.

  I’m still shaky from the slap.

  What Shep did was childish. Is he really that hard up for attention that he believed sending someone’s private photo out to strangers would be a smart idea? Or is he just an ass?

  I don’t understand how any of this made sense in his mind. That’s not an eye for an eye—that’s a severed head for an eye.

  He was out for blood, and he’d found what he was looking for.

  Only now he’s been caught, and I will be making him face consequences…after Caleb’s done with him, of course.

  Now I have to decide what I’m going to do about Zach. How can I even begin to decide how to approach all of this? How do I tell him it was his brother who betrayed us both?

  How do I tell him I’m sorry?

  I pick up my phone and pull up our texts, scrolling through them like I have for the past several days now. At this point, I might even be able to recite them word for word; that’s how pathetic I am.

  My fingers hover over the keyboard. I don’t know what to say.

  I screwed up?

  I’m the worst?

  I should have trusted you?

  I type and retype several different messages. None of them are enough.

  Finally, I send the only thing I know I have to say.

  Me: I’m sorry.

  Those three dots pop up and then disappear, only to come back seconds later.

  After several minutes of the same routine, they stop reappearing.

  Me: I know it wasn’t you who sent the photo out. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to realize that in the beginning.

  Zach: I’m sorry you didn’t too.

  Zach: But, Delia?

  God, even reading my name makes my heart pound. It’s been too many days since I’ve heard it drop from his lips.

  I didn’t know I could miss someone this much before now.

  Me: Yeah?

  Zach: Go to bed. It’s after midnight.

  Laughter flows out of me, and I feel giddy. His text is so simple, so…Zach.

  For the first time in days, I have hope again.

  23

  “You want to do what?”

  “Steal Marshmallow.”

  “Are you insane? Because you sound certifiable right about now. We cannot steal a goat.”

  “We can too. All it takes is getting a window open at Zach’s, crawling inside, and snatching the goat.”

  “I can read the headlines now—WANTED: TWO ADORABLY SEXY COLLEGE GIRLS STEAL BABY GOAT.”

  I raise a brow at her. “Adorably sexy?”

  “What?” She shrugs. “It’s not a lie.”

  “Anyway, I was thinking after Caleb stopped by—”

  “Which I am still pissed about missing, by the way.”

  I received an earful yesterday about not waking her up before, during, and after, but only because she was desperate to get in on the slapping Shep action too.

  Luckily, she was already running late from class and I was passed out by the time she came home last night, so I didn’t have to hear about it again.

  This morning though? She ripped into me again.

  I wave her off. “Yeah, yeah. So I was thinking, we should steal Marshmallow. Then Zach would have to see me and we’d have to talk.”

  “I want to repeat my earlier question, but I think you’d throw something at me if I did.”

  “I am being dead serious right now, Zoe, and if you don’t want in on stealing the goat, I’ll get Caleb to help me.”

  “Oh, hell no. There’s no way I’m missing out on you stealing a goat, you nut.”

  “So you’re in?”

  “I’m in,” she says. “But we need a plan first.”

  “Already one step ahead of you. You’ll knock on the door and plead with Zach, pretending to be a helpless stranger with a broken-down car. I’ll sneak around back and climb through the window in Marshmallow’s room.”

  “A few things. One, the goat has his own room?” I nod. “Why?”

  “Because he’s really cute and deserves his own space.”

  She looks at me like she’s waiting for the punch line, but I’m not joking. When this dawns on her, she continues. “Right. Two, Zach knows who I am, so I can’t pretend to be a helpless stranger.”

  “You make an excellent point.” I steeple my hands together and rest my chin on them. “Ideas?”

  “How about I go over there pretending to want to chat with him about what a sleaze you are?”

  I glare at her. “We’ll work on your angle.”

  “Fine. So, three, why are we stealing the goat again?”

  “I told you: so then he’ll have to talk to me.”

  “Why don’t you just knock on the door and talk to him?”

  I screw my face up at her. “Because that isn’t as fun as stealing Marshmallow.”

  She stares at me, not blinking.

  “You don’t get it. Zach will. He’ll understand.”

  “He’ll understand you stealing his goat?”

  “Just wait, you’ll see.”

  “When are we to execute this plan of yours?” she asks.

  “Do you work tomorrow night?”

  “No, but you really need to think about this, Delia.”

  “Think about what?”

  She sits on the couch next to me. “Your relationship with Zach and what Shep did. Will you be able to move past it? Can you forgive him? If you’re planning to become serious with Zach, which is where I believe you two were headed, you’ll be attending family functions. Shep will be there. How will you handle that?”

  “I…”

  Well, hell, I hadn’t thought of that. The only thing I’ve had on the brain as of late is Zach.

  If Zach lets me explain, what am I going to do about Shep? I already plan to go to the dean’s office about him—there is no way in hell I’ll be able to watch him out on the baseball field representing our school and not think of the time he spread a naked picture of me around.

  There should be no reward for doing something so degrading.

  Baseball isn’t a necessity; it’s a privilege.

  But what about outside of school, during the family functions Zoe mentioned? Will I avoid him? What happens when I tell his parents?

  This is more complicated than I thought it would be.

  “This might be one of those bridges I cross when I get to it. Besides, we aren’t even sure if Zach will want to talk to me.”

  “I wouldn’t talk to you if you stole my goat.”

  “Liar.”

  She nods. “True. So, tomorrow is when you’ll try to win your man back?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why did you insist on wearing a neon green shirt? We’re aiming for sneaky.”

  I’m decked out in black from head to toe.

  She isn’t.

  “You didn’t tell me that!” she hisses.

  “It’s common knowledge that when you try to burglarize a place, you wear black, like the night, so you blend in, not neon freakin’ green.”

  She pulls at her bright shirt. “I’ll have you know this is pastel, not neon.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Two totally different things.”

  “Shh! Lower your voice.”

  “We are literally sitting inside your car down the road from his house. Why do we need to whisper right now?”

  “Because we need to stay in character!”

  She mutters under her breath and I reach over and pinch her.

  “Ow! You bitch!”

  “Shh!”

  “Oh my god. Can we get on with this already?”

  “Fine. Now you remember the plan, yes?”

  “I’ll knock on the door and seduce your sexy nerd of a boyfriend while you break into the goat’s bedroom,” she says.

  “No, no seducing.”

  “You sure? I thought you said seduce.”
>
  “I will pinch you again.”

  She scoots as far away as she can. “No seducing—noted. Let’s go.”

  We exit the car and I tiptoe off toward the back side of the neighborhood.

  “You don’t look even an ounce inconspicuous!” she shouts as she climbs into the driver’s seat.

  “I hate you!” I flip her the bird as I continue making my way to a stranger’s back yard.

  I sneak to the edge, right along the fence blocking the woods behind their houses. My heart is beating so loud I’m afraid it’s going to rouse people from sleep.

  I can’t believe I’m about to steal a goat.

  The things we do for love, right?

  Creeping along, I make sure to check that Zoe and I are at the same points. She slinks along in the car, waiting for me to give her the signal that I’m in place.

  I can see from here that she’s dancing along to something on the radio.

  Only Zoe.

  When I finally reach the edge of Zach’s back yard, I jump up and down and wave at Zoe. She shoots me a thumbs up and parks the car.

  I make my way toward the house and peek inside the window into Marshmallow’s bedroom. It’s too dark to really see anything.

  Shit! I didn’t even think of that possibility.

  The window isn’t far from the ground and surprisingly, I can reach it just fine, so I push on it with all my might.

  It takes a couple tries, but I finally get it open.

  “Zach! Hey! How’s that ass of yours?” I hear Zoe say loudly. She must be on the porch with him.

  “My ass is fine, thank you. What are you doing here, Zoe? Is Delia with you?”

  “What? No!” I can hear the panic in her voice. “Why would she be here?”

  “Um…because we’re kind of dating?” Zach sounds so confused right now. “Or we were. We’re…whatever it is we are now.”

  See? There’s still hope.

  “Oh,” Zoe says. “Well, no. She isn’t here. I am here to talk to you about her though.”

  “What about?”

  “How crazy she is, absolutely batshit.”

  I could strangle her.

  Backing up, I take a running jump, and I must be coasting on pure adrenaline because I manage to get a grip on the window sill on the second try.

  An unfamiliar head pokes out the window and I fall flat on my ass, which knocks the wind right out of me.

  “Can I help you?” His voice is gruff, but he doesn’t sound angry.

  Robbie—there’s no question about it. His caramel skin is the exact same tone as his son’s, who I’ve seen dozens of pictures of by now. He’s built—like, can barely fit through the window kind of built—and I wonder for a moment if he used to play football.

  Squinting down at me, I can tell he recognizes who I am too. “Hey, wait—you’re Delia, aren’t you?”

  I nod. “That would be me.”

  “Can I ask what the hell it is you’re doing?”

  “Stealing Marshmallow and leaving a ransom note.”

  He grins, and I know he understands. “You’re trouble.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I hate to say it, but you have the wrong room.”

  “No shit.”

  He doesn’t move for a moment, only stands there studying me.

  “You know what? Screw it,” he says. “Get up here. I’ll sneak off and grab Marshy while you leave the note.”

  I stand and he reaches out to grab my hands, effortlessly pulling me up and through the window.

  “That was so much easier than what I was doing,” I whisper. “I think I should start working out a bit more. I’ll need muscles like yours for the next house I break into.”

  He laughs quietly and grabs a notebook and pen off his desk. “I’ll be right back.”

  I quickly scribble something down for Robbie to leave in Marshmallow’s room.

  Dear Zach,

  I’ve run away. I’m off to live with She Who Has A Great Ass. Good luck getting me back.

  Love,

  1/3 of the S’mores brothers

  Satisfied with my note, I fold it and draw his name in big, bold letters.

  “Here. I packed him a quick bag too.”

  Marshmallow makes a noise as Robbie hands him over to me and I snuggle him. “I missed you, little buddy.”

  “Even he’s been a mopey little shit since you two stopped talking.”

  “He’s been mopey?” I ask Robbie.

  He doesn’t have to ask; he knows who I’m referring to.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe—even snapped at a client. Whatever happened wasn’t pretty, and it’s done a number on him.”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  Robbie shakes his head. “Not a word.”

  “Oh,” I say quietly.

  “I’m only helping you right now because I think you might be the only one who can fix my man, even though you were the one who broke him.”

  “The whole thing was a huge misunderstanding.”

  Robbie waves me off. “Don’t bother explaining to me. Explain it to him.”

  “I will.” I point to Marshmallow, who’s already falling asleep in my arm. “That’s what he’s for.”

  “…see, I told you, she’s crazy! Gosh, I could really go for a cake right now,” Zoe practically shouts.

  “That’s my cue,” I say to Robbie.

  “Get out of here. I’ll keep him distracted while you leave.”

  I climb back through the window, careful not to jostle Marshmallow around too much.

  Once I’m clear of the ledge, I glance back.

  “Hey, Robbie?” I call.

  He pops his head back out. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Fix this, okay?”

  “I’m trying to.”

  Out of nowhere, a police cruiser comes barreling down the street, screeching to a halt right in front of Zach’s house. The red and blue lights reflect off the house, off me. I flatten myself against the wall and glance up to Robbie, my panic level at an all-time high.

  “What the shit is happening?”

  He’s trying hard not to laugh. “I think you tripped the alarm trying to break in.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  “Go. I’ll handle it.”

  “Zoe’s my ride!”

  “I’ll make sure she meets you at your rendezvous point.”

  “Make sure to say you could go for a cake. That’s our code phrase.”

  “Cake? Really?”

  “What? I was hungry when I came up with it.”

  He laughs. “Go.”

  I nod and take off running through strangers’ back yards. When I finally feel like I’m in the clear, I stop to catch my breath and walk the rest of the way, the goat in my arms grinning the entire time.

  It’s another ten minutes before Zoe finally pulls to a stop in front of me.

  I hastily climb into the car and she peels away.

  “Well?”

  “You tripped the alarm.”

  “Aren’t they supposed to call about those kinds of things?”

  “They did, but I was trying to keep Zach busy and it turns out your boy is super polite and won’t answer his incessantly buzzing cell phone while someone is talking to him.”

  I laugh. “Crap.”

  “Yeah, but turns out Robbie is really nice. He kept doing this weird thing with his nose, like this.” She flicks at her nose twice with her thumb. “I thought he just had issues until he finally said he could go for a cake and nodded toward the door like he had a tic in his neck. By the way, that man is fine.”

  “Robbie?” She nods. “Yeah, he’s not bad on the eyes.”

  “Not bad!” she screeches. “He’s gorgeous!”

  I can see it in her eyes—Robbie’s just become prey to her.

  “He has a son.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders deflate, and I know Robbie is now a lost cause to her. “Anyway, Zach didn’t suspect a thing. How did Rob
bie find you?”

  “I tried climbing into the wrong room.”

  “Shut up.” She titters. “Only you.”

  I run my hands through a sleeping Marshmallow’s fluff.

  “But you got your goat,” she says.

  “I got my goat.”

  24

  Much to my surprise, Zach doesn’t come by the night of the goat heist…or the next day.

  I’m starting to worry about three things.

  One, he doesn’t care that I stole Marshmallow.

  Two, he doesn’t care about me anymore.

  Three, my building manager discovering that I’m harboring a stolen animal.

  My patience and heart are both wearing thin. I can’t keep up the façade any longer.

  I miss him like a writer misses their pen. Every day I reach for my phone to text him something funny or random, and every day I remember I can’t.

  So instead I text myself, hoping one day I can show him all the funny things I thought of while he wasn’t around to appreciate them.

  One day…

  I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Stop doing that,” Zoe complains.

  “What?”

  “Sighing. It’s annoying.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m in worry mode, and I sigh a lot when I’m at this point.”

  “I know, and it’s annoying, so stop it. He’ll come for him. I know he will.”

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Just him?”

  She eyes me. “He’ll come for you too. I have a feeling.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and I stand so quickly that I almost step on Marshmallow, who’s lying at my feet.

  I race over there and then straight back.

  “Do you think it’s him?” I whisper to Zoe.

  “You won’t know until you answer the door.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Do you want me to open it?”

  I shake my head. “No, no. I can do this.” I smooth out my shirt and blow out a breath. “I can do this. I can open the door and say hello and explain. I can do this.”

  “Then fucking do it!”

  “Shh!”