Page 13 of A Minute More

I don’t know what to say after that. How did you get my number would be a good start, but I don’t want to freak him out. Dena’s name appears on my screen as well, but I just swipe it away and stare at Simon’s message instead, not even blinking for a few seconds because I’m afraid I’ve lost my mind and this is all a hallucination.

And if it is, then I really know I’ve lost my marbles.

Finally, my eyeballs start to ache, so I blink and then breathe deeply, trying to get my heart rate under control. But it’s radio silence, no response to my greeting. Nothing.

What the fuck is this? Is he toying with me? Or is he just regretting his life choices of contacting me in the first place?

Me:

You okay?

I can’t help but ask, my excitement reaching out and overpowering any and all self-control I should have.

The three little dots appear and disappear many times before he finally replies,Yes.

Just three little letters, but I clutch my phone tighter, feeling like I’m getting somewhere. God, the eternal optimist in me is ridiculous. I know this and yet, I can’t help myself.

Me:

What are you doing?

He doesn’t respond quick enough so I message him again right away, knowing I shouldn’t but unable to help myself.

Me:

Do you want me to call?

Don’t know why I said that. I don’t talk on the phone, unless it’s with my mom or grandma. Because…well, they’re old. But calling Simon…no way. Can you imagine? I let out a mortified snort. It would just be me blathering endlessly and him just breathing on the other end of the line.

Simon:

No.

I shift on my bed, feeling a little unsettled and not quite sure why he texted me. Dena messages me again, but she goes ignored as I sit cross-legged on my bed and stare down at the odd as fuck conversation I’m having with Simon. The phone light shines brightly in my face and I scrub at my eyes. It’s so late and I’m tired, but like hell I’m going to sleep if Simon’s going to text me back. The fact that he texted me at all is making my entire body nearly tremble.

I don’t know why I have this reaction to him.

Me:

What are you doing?

I want to joke and textwhat are you wearing,but I’m worried he wouldn’t find it funny. I bet he wears proper pajamas to bed with buttons and everything. Unlike me and my cut-off shorts and loose tank.

Simon takes approximately one hundred years to respond. When he finally does, I lose the ability to breathe.

Simon:

Regretting choices

Me:

What choices?

It’s silent for so long that I end up closing my eyes and dozing off, the phone on my chest. When I wake hours later, I glance at it and see that my question was left on read with no response.

Seems that’s just one more thing I’ll have to obsess about when it comes to this guy.

Why the fuck did he message me in the first place?

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