Page 8 of A Royal Menace

“Stop hogging the popcorn,Cal. Pass it down here.”

Scooping out a handful of salty, buttery goodness, I pass the bowl to my sister, Joey, who passes it to her best friend Twila, who then hands it off to Raven. We’re all scrunched together on my single couch, gabbing while a romantic comedy we’ve seen a dozen times plays on the television.

“Oh, hey, did you ever text that guy back?” Raven asks, and Joey and Twila both turn their heads toward me.

“What guy?” Joey asks, her brows lifting nearly to her hairline.

“We don’t know if it’s aguy,” I say to Joey, then turn my gaze to Raven. “And no, not yet. I got another text this morning, and I didn’t get a chance to text them back before my students arrived.”

“What did it say?” Raven asks.

I pull out my phone and open the text thread before handing the device to Joey, who reads both messages aloud. When shefinishes, a weird silence falls among us as the same emotion I felt this morning ravages through me. I can tell by Joey and Twila’s expressions, they feel it, too. Raven just looks thoughtful.

“You should text him back,” she says when no one else speaks. “It sounds like he thinks he’s texting a ghost.”

Joey passes the phone back to me, and I read the last message again silently. Raven is right. These messages weren’t meant for me, and they feel…intimate. And sad. Like the intended recipient isn’t in the sender’s life, anymore. Whether separated by distance or death, it’s none of my business.

I need to respond before the messages get any more personal and private than they already are.

Tapping the screen, I stare at the blinking cursor for a long moment as I collect my thoughts. Then, I begin to type.

Me:Hi. I don’t know who you’re trying to reach, but I just got this number a few weeks ago, and I know your messages weren’t meant for me. I’m sorry for the confusion.

I read my text aloud for the girls, and Joey and Twila agree it’s sufficient while Raven frowns. I meet her gaze for a moment, then cock my head.

“What? You don’t think it’s good?”

She shrugs, saying, “I told you. I’d just go with, ‘New number. Who dis?’”

I huff out a chuckle when her expression remains perfectly serious for a few beats, and at the sound of my humor, she breaks, a laugh bursting through her lips. Twila giggles and shakes her head, holding up a palm.

“Please don’t write that.”

I shake my head, take a deep breath and hold it, then I tap the icon to send the message I typed out before saying, “There. It’s done.”

Setting my phone on the armrest next to me, I hold out a hand and motion for Raven to pass the popcorn bowl back myway. The four of us settle in and refocus on the movie, and soon, the others are involved in a running commentary about the storyline and quoting bits and pieces of it along with the actors.

I try to join their antics, but my attention keeps straying to my phone. Every time the screen lights up with a new notification, my gaze zooms in to see if it’s my mysterious texter responding to my message. I tell myself I’m not disappointed every time I see a different app notification, but there’s no denying the hollow feeling in my chest and the way my body sags each and every time.

I don’t know why I’m so invested in this. It’s a simple case of a wrong number. That’s it. The person on the other end of the messages probably saw my text, got a little embarrassed, and decided to never text the number again.

That’s it.

It’s over.

Finito.

We can both move on with our lives, now.

I stretchand blink my eyes open to see a bright ray of sunshine sneaking into my room through the gap in the curtains. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I tap the screen to wake it up. The first thing I see is the time––I actually slept in a little after my late night with the girls.

The second thing I see? A notification that my mystery texter responded to my message.

Sitting up quickly, I open the app and see he sent not one, but two text messages a couple of hours ago.

760-555-9090:Hi. Thank you so much for letting me know. This number belonged to someone I lost two years ago, thisweek, and I’ve been feeling a bit…nostalgic. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know her phone number had been reassigned.

760-555-9090:Sorry, that was a bit heavy to drop on you this early on a Saturday morning. Not to mention way too much information from a total stranger. I just wanted to explain why… You know what? No. I’m going to shut up now. Thanks again, and have a nice day.

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