Page 124 of I Wanna Text You Up

Me:I’m still peeved, but Icare.

Caleb:I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything more to you later, but I want to have that conversation face toface.

Me:When?

Me:Because I’m kind of dying over here,Caleb.

Caleb:When is your schedule clearnext?

Me:Clear as in clear for me? Or clear as in coincides withyours?

Caleb:Shit. Good point. Probably withmine.

Me:I have all of Thursday off. No class, noanything.

Caleb:That will have to workthen.

Caleb:Zoe?

Me:Yeah?

Caleb:Thank you for not hating me and for giving me a chance to explain. I missyou.

Me:I miss youtoo.

Twenty-Two

“Miss? Is this seat taken?”

I glance to the empty spot to my right andfrown.

“No. It’s all yours,” I tell thestranger.

Itshouldbe taken, but it’snot.

I woke up this morning to a cold, empty bed and a text from Caleb that just said,We’ll talktonight.

Then tonight came around and he nevershowed.

So, I left, because there’s no way I’m missing my monthly Rocky Horror date to wait around on a guy who keeps ghosting on me and standing meup.

The last week’s been reminiscent of when Caleb first moved in. We’re on completely opposite schedules, never having the chance to stop for a real conversation. He’s been busy making up the hours he missed while in Outer Banks, and I’ve been wrapping up my seniorproject.

If I’m being honest, I haven’t once rushed home to see him. I’m still a little peeved at him for ditching me on vacation, leaving me naked and alone in bed, left to fend for myself with myparents.

Since no real conversations have happened between us since he slunk home in the middle of the night, I don’t have any more information. I want some answers, and I don’t think that’s too much to askfor.

I’m mad, but I didn’t lie when I told him I still care. I really do, and that’s the hardest part of all of this—havingfeelings.It’s why I’ve always stuck to flings. They’re easy, no attachments. I don’t need to add to the list of heartaches I’ve had in mylife.

Of course, the one guy I decide to give things a real shot with has commitment issues of hisown.

Fuckingfigures.

I want to go back to running from feelings and hiding from all this bullshit. It was easier than whatever the hell is happeningnow.

“Thank you,” the guy says, squeezing into the seat besideme.

He begins digging around in the prop bucket provided by the theater, pulling out the instruction sheet and attempting to figure out what the hell it is he’s supposed todo.

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