Texting Box Set: The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  Zach: You won’t. *evil laughter*

  Me: ZACH!

  Zach: DELIA!

  Me: You’re sassy today.

  Zach: Aren’t you supposed to be being productive or some shit?

  Me: Or some shit.

  7

  “I have a date tonight.” Zoe announces this like it’s something new. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

  “Who is the unlucky lad this time?”

  “Lucky. And it’s Shep.”

  “Like, the Shep?”

  A mischievous grin takes over her face. “Yes.”

  “Clark? Shep Clark? On the baseball team with Caleb, Shep?”

  She nods, her head bobbing up and down quickly, the grin widening across her cheeks. “Yep.”

  “Um…wow. Wow. Are you sure? I mean, he’s Shep—the Shep.”

  “Can you please stop talking about him like he’s a god or something?”

  “He is a god!”

  “He’s a mere mortal who happens to know how to hit a baseball, big deal.”

  “Big deal,” I mutter. “She said big deal.”

  “I can hear you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, big deal.”

  A whoosh alerts me of the pillow being lobbed at my head just in time for me to sidestep her assault.

  She rests her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. “Be nice, Delia.”

  “Or what, Zoe?” I toss back, mirroring her pose.

  “I’ll cut you.”

  Her voice is so sweet, it’s almost chilling. Then again, I know Zoe, and Zoe can’t even cut a pizza.

  “Scoot. Go get dressed for your date, you non-scary adorable creature.”

  “I am terrifying!” She stomps her foot and I laugh until I’m nearly in tears.

  “You’re adorable. Now, what are you wearing? You can’t just wear anything for a date with Shep.”

  “Ohmygod. Please stop saying his name like that.”

  I grab at my chest in faux innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do—all dramatic like. You drop your voice and it’s creepy. Stop it.” She pulls two tops out of her closet and holds them up. “Blue or blue?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Neither. Keep searching.”

  As Zoe searches the deep crevices of her stuffed closet, I dig my phone out of my pocket, surprised to find a text waiting for me.

  Zach: It’s a Friday night and I have a date…with Netflix and takeout. Please tell me I’m not a horribly boring person. By the way, Marshmallow says hi.

  I smile as I read the text—but I shouldn’t be smiling, right? I should be weirded out that Zach messaged me again.

  Right?

  I’m not though. Not only am I not weirded out, I respond.

  Me: You’re only boring if I’m boring because I have the exact same plans. P.S. HI MARSHY! <3

  Zach: TWINSIES!

  Zach: Holy shit. I’m a twelve-year-old girl. Someone kill me now.

  Me: You didn’t SOUND like a twelve-year-old girl when you were growling at me for your wrong number mistake.

  Zach: I did not GROWL.

  Me: You sounded like a bear.

  Zach: Can I wear a hat?

  Me: You want to be Smokey Bear?

  Zach: I always thought that dude was cool…

  Me: Wow, you really ARE a twelve-year-old girl.

  “Earth to Delia. Hello! Pay attention to me!”

  I snap out of my Zach bubble and swing my attention to Zoe, who’s gaping at me with obvious irritation. “Yes?”

  “Jeans—light or dark?”

  “Dark. Dark jeans are sexier at night.”

  She tilts her head, thinking. “Hmm, smart thinking. These also make my booty pop…”

  “Which is the top reason to wear them.”

  “Obviously.”

  My phone buzzes again and I glance down to read the string of messages.

  Zach: I’ll have you know I am at least thirteen.

  Zach: Have you watched Stranger Things?

  Zach: Of course you have. Everyone has. Never mind. What about Hemlock Grove? Seems like it could get weird.

  Zach: Why in the hell am I bothering you?

  Zach: I’ll leave you alone now.

  Shaking my head at his oddness, my fingers hover over the screen, trying to figure out how I want to reply.

  “If you aren’t paying attention, scram.”

  Zoe’s back to glaring at me. “Sorry, Z. What are we deciding on now?”

  She does nothing to hide her disdain, huffing and grabbing at her wild mess of hair. “Up or down?”

  “Down. No wait—up!”

  “So…up?”

  “Nah.” I shake my head. “Down.”

  Zoe rolls her eyes and spins back around, attention now focused on her reflection in her vanity mirror.

  Me: I have seen ST, but not Hemlock Grove.

  Me: Proposal?

  Me: Let’s watch Hemlock Grove together. Via text.

  Me: Also, I think it’s weird you’re always texting me, BUT, I AM texting back, so I guess that makes me weird too. You’re kind of…fun.

  Zach: Only kind of?

  Me: *rolls eyes* Way to ruin the moment.

  Zach: *I* ruined the moment? You’re the one who lied.

  Me: Point out my lie.

  Zach: KIND OF. Like we both don’t know how remarkable I am.

  Me: You’re very full of yourself.

  Zach: Or confident. Take your pick.

  Me: Why am I still talking to you?

  Zach: Because we’re going to binge Hemlock Grove together?

  Me: Give me thirty and we’re on.

  Me: WAIT. What are you ordering to eat? Let’s be real losers and eat the same thing.

  Zach: *groans* Do we HAVE to?

  Zach: I’m ordering Chinese.

  Me: Nah. Let’s get wings.

  Zach: Fine. Wings it is.

  Me: *whispers* What kind are you getting?

  Zach: WE ARE NOT GETTING THE SAME FLAVOR. We aren’t THAT pathetic.

  Me: Fine, but just so you know, I’m pouting.

  “So, what are you doing tonight?” Zoe asks as she’s applying some kind of fancy makeup all over her face. I have no idea what it is because makeup isn’t my thing, but damn does that girl know how to apply it.

  I can feel my smile and I know Zoe sees it before I can catch it.

  “Why are you smiling? What’s going on? What are your plans for the night?”

  “Um…I think I’ll watch Netflix and order food.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widen. “Oh! You’re going to ‘Netflix and chill’ with yourself, huh? You naughty girl, you.”

  “Zoe! I am not going to masturbate and watch Netflix—not that there is anything wrong with that, I’m just not doing it. Why in the hell would you think I am?”

  She shrugs. “Your smile. I don’t know. It’s…secretive, and that’s the only secretive thing I could think of. Sorry, sex on the brain right now. I mean, I am going on a date with Shep.”

  “The Shep.”

  “Yes, the Shep.” She sighs, and it’s wistful, which is unlike Zoe.

  I won’t lie, my best friend is known for being a heartbreaker. She’s a love ’em and leave ’em type of girl, never lets anyone too close before she’s moving on to the next guy, and that’s okay. That’s her thing.

  If there was a male equivalent to Zoe, it would be Shep, and they both know it.

  But the fact that she’s so worried about what she’s wearing, the dreamy sighs, the shaking I catch in her hands as she applies the last of her makeup tells me something is different about this date. She’s nervous, and Zoe doesn’t get nervous.

  I’ve met Shep a few times through Caleb, and he’s always been decent—way too cocky, but decent. That said, I have seen the way he flings girls around and have witnessed him getting slapped a few times. He just grins and moves on to the next girl. I always thought it was a bit…sleazy, the way he acted about it.

  “Hey, Zoe?”r />
  “Yeah?”

  “You’ll be careful with Shep, right? He kind of has a reputation…”

  A booming laugh fills the room. “Delia, I have a reputation. I’ll be fine.” She stands and spritzes herself with perfume.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! Now, stop worrying about me and wish me luck. Shep should be here”—a knock sounds at the door—“well, now.” She quickly slides her feet into the cutest booties and blows me an air kiss. “Gotta run, babe! Have fun tonight!”

  I sit there and listen as she greets Shep at the door. Even from the bedroom, I can hear the nerves in her voice. What surprises me is the shakiness I hear in Shep’s voice too.

  Maybe this will turn out okay.

  My phone buzzes and I read the message on the screen.

  Zach: I’m ordering my wings now. You have twenty minutes to get your shit together, woman.

  Me: You just lost so many cool points by calling me “woman”.

  Zach: That’s okay. I’m sure I was way ahead of the game anyway.

  Me: What in the hell is going on?! That rich kid is a CREEPER. I don’t trust him.

  Me: That other kid, the wolfy dude, he’s the one we need to trust.

  Me: ZACH

  Zach: SHHHH! I’m watching this shitshow unfold!

  Me: But I need you.

  Zach: Oh, you NEED me, huh? *does that sexy eyebrow thing*

  Me: There is literally nothing sexy about “that eyebrow thing”.

  Zach: But you knew exactly what I was talking about, didn’t you? Bet you even did it yourself.

  Me: Shut up.

  Me: Watch the show.

  Zach: Pause in one…two…

  Me: Why are we pausing?

  Zach: Food’s here.

  Me: What! Mine isn’t here yet.

  Zach: Should have ordered sooner.

  Zach: Also, NO, I will NOT wait for you. I like my wings hot, thank you.

  Me: You’re mean. You didn’t tell me you were mean.

  Zach: And ruin the surprise? Never!

  Zach: One…two…

  Me: PAUSE!

  A thunderous series of knocks sounds at the door and I about jump out of my skin. With the show paused, the apartment is silent, making the interruption seem even louder.

  “Coming!” I yell to the delivery guy on the other side.

  I grab my wallet—still a little peeved about having my cash stolen, yet thankful my real wallet wasn’t—and pull out enough to cover the bill and a tip.

  I swing the door open to find a nervous high school student on the other side.

  “D-Deli-uh? Dee-lia?”

  I try hard not to laugh. “It’s Delia, like ‘I’ll deal ya the cards.’ But, yes, that’s me.”

  “I have a medium order of Thai chili boneless wings with fries.”

  “Yep, sounds right.”

  “Great.” He pulls them from his thermal delivery bag and hands them over. “Well, here ya go. Have a great night, Deli-uh.”

  “Wait! Don’t I need to pay you?”

  “Oh, no. That’s been taken care of already, miss.”

  “It has? By whom?”

  “Uh, um…it was…” He fishes around in his pockets for something, eventually pulling out a folded slip of paper. “I almost forgot—this is for you.”

  I take the note, surprised. “Oh, okay. Well, um…thank you I guess. Let me grab you a tip.”

  “That’s been taken care of as well.”

  “Seriously? Well, screw it. You’re getting another.” I reach into my wallet and pull out the first bill I find, shoving a ten at him. “Thanks kid.”

  I close the door with a quick slam, set my food down, and rip open the note.

  Friends don’t let friends binge and starve.

  ZACK WITH A H

  Zach

  I grab my phone, not hesitating to hit the green button next to Zach’s name.

  “I assume you received my gift, Delia.”

  “You bought me dinner? What the hell, Zach?”

  “A ‘thank you’ is sufficient.”

  If only I could reach through this phone right now… “Thank you, but what the hell! How did you even know where I ordered from?” I gasp, realizing something. “Wait…how do you know where I live? Are you a creepy stalker? Was this whole ‘wrong number’ thing a fake-out so you can creep on me?”

  “Okay, first, calm down. Second, all I know is that we live close-ish. I don’t know your exact address, but the wing place does.” I can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Third, I called around a few different wing places that were near Lola’s. You had mentioned you were within walking distance of there, so I asked if you had placed an order. Wing Spot was very accommodating, by the way. Said the gesture was…what did they call it? Ah, yes—romantic.”

  I’m floored.

  “I…I don’t have words, Zach. Thank you. That was…kind. Slightly creepy, but kind.”

  “Anything for you, Delia.”

  The way he says it…the words slide over me. I don’t think he means them any way other than friendly, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t make me feel all sorts of tingly.

  “How are you liking the show so far?” I ask, changing the subject.

  Grabbing my wings, I place them on the living room table and head into the kitchen for a fresh drink and a fork.

  “I didn’t anticipate the show being so…weird.”

  “We’re only on the second episode.”

  “I have no fucking clue what’s going on—that makes it weird.”

  My hand grips the fridge tighter at his coarse language. The way he growls, his words, how deep his voice is…it’s hot.

  “Can’t argue there.” I put the phone on speaker, not about to try to balance that while opening this bottle of wine. “How’s Marshmallow?”

  “He’s fine, sleeping on my pillow right now. What are you doing, Delia? It sounds like someone is ransacking the place.”

  “For your information, smartass, I’m getting a drink.”

  “You’re so…noisy about it.”

  I mock his tone. “You’re so…rude about it.”

  “I’m quite enjoying this friendship that’s blossoming here. You calling me names, me giving you insurmountable amounts of shit.”

  “Oh, yes, very enjoyable.”

  “You couldn’t even say that with a straight face. I heard the smile in your words.”

  He’s right. Screw him for being right.

  “Whatever. Are we watching more of the show?”

  “Do you think I could walk away now?”

  “Never.”

  “Want to…I don’t know, talk over the phone?”

  I gulp, and it’s loud. There’s no way he doesn’t hear it. “Um…sure?”

  “Why is that a question?”

  “Doesn’t this make you nervous?”

  “I bought you dinner, Delia. We’re past the nerves stage. We’re two friends enjoying a show together, eating hot wings—or in your case, wimpy wings.”

  “Did you just mock my taste in wings?”

  “Am I wrong?” he questions.

  “I…YES! Those things are spicy!”

  “To who? A toddler?”

  “You’re mean, Zach.”

  “And you enjoy it, Delia.”

  He’s right.

  Again.

  “So, are we hanging up and hitting play, or what?”

  “Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere now. You’re the one who took this from texting to phone calls. It’s on, baby.”

  I don’t know why, especially since I cannot stand the nickname, but I swear my heart beats faster when he calls me baby.

  “You want to listen to me chew? Is that a kinky fetish of yours, Zach?”

  “No? What? I’ll be listening to the show, and maybe your obnoxious interjections.”

  “I am known for those,” I agree.

  “See? I know you so well already.”

  “You don’t know ja
ck shit.”

  “I know we live in the same city…”

  His voice trails off, and I hate the way it makes me scoot to the edge of the couch, the way it causes my pulse to pick up speed, and I really cannot stand the way I grip the phone tighter, like his words are a cliff and I’m hanging on the edge of each one.

  “We do,” I confirm.

  “See, that’s something. I also know you like hot wings and have a thing for freaky television shows, and you’re crushing on the wolf kid.”

  “You’re so annoying.”

  “Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, Delia.”

  “I’m hitting play. You in or what?”

  He chuckles, and I love the way it sounds. “Oh, I’m in.”

  We hit play at the same time. The next few minutes are silent as we eat and watch the insanity unfold on the screen.

  I can hear shuffling on the other end of the line, but don’t think much of it—well, not until I hear the mumbling.

  “Where the fuck is my extra ranch?” I snicker at the irritation I hear in his voice. “Did those assmunches not send it?” Assmunches? “Well son of a…”

  I can’t help it—a laugh escapes, and I’m certain he heard it.

  “I’m guessing you heard all that?”

  “It’s not like you were trying to be quiet.”

  “They didn’t send my extra ranch. That’s enough to yell about.”