Let's Get Textual (Page 9)

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Me: It was the feet.

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Zach: Be honest…did you save THAT pic for the spank bank?

* * *

Me: Obviously. Who doesn’t love sparkly man feet?

* * *

Me: Okay, no. That made me throw up in my mouth.

* * *

Me: Zach? Did I lose you at that? Too far?

* * *

Me: Huh. Guess so. It was nice knowing you…

Me: Did I do something wrong? We tend to text often and, yeah, I feel like I’ve been ghosted for the last sixteen hours.

* * *

Zach: I think it’s sweet you’ve counted the number of hours since we last chatted. You like me.

* * *

Me: Never.

* * *

Zach: No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Delia. I was tangled up with Xavier and Marshmallow. Both s**t the bed, so that was fun. Then Xavier’s mom’s car broke down and Robbie had to figure out what was up there and it was a whole thing. I wasn’t ignoring you, promise.

* * *

Zach: Confession: I picked up my phone three different times to text you today and each time I was pulled away to do something else.

* * *

Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

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Me: You sent me a picture of s**t. Baby goat s**t and baby human s**t. You’re horrible at sexting.

* * *

Me: P.S. I don’t envy you.

* * *

Me: Oh and I’m glad you’re not mad at me. I was worried I’d ruined our beautiful, yet strange friendship.

* * *

Zach: I’m not THAT easy to get rid of.

* * *

Zach: What’s on the agenda the rest of the night?

* * *

Me: Work. I’m here now. Hopefully I’ll be cut and sent home soon though. We’re dead and I could go for an ice cream and a nap—in that order.

* * *

Zach: Please tell me you enjoy respectable ice cream.

* * *

Me: Is that your way of asking me what kind I eat?

* * *

Zach: Yes.

* * *

Me: Brand or flavor?

* * *

Zach: Both, because they both matter.

* * *

Me: Mint Chocolate Chip, Baskin Robbins.

* * *

Zach: Hmm…I’ll allow it. Although BR is much better fresh, their selection isn’t horrible compared to others.

* * *

Me: And what kind of ice cream do you enjoy?

* * *

Zach: Birthday cake is my favorite but it’s hard to find a quality frozen one. I usually make a special trip across town for it.

* * *

Me: Do you go where I think you go?

* * *

Zach: Boom’s?

* * *

Me: YESSSS! Best. Ice cream. Ever.

* * *

Zach: Let’s go. Right now. Put your pants on, we’re headed to Boom’s!

* * *

Me: You’re joking…

* * *

Zach: I am, but only because I’m already in bed…naked.

* * *

Me: Oh I wish I were there.

* * *

Zach: You want to be in bed naked with me? I like where this is going, Delia.

* * *

Me: I want to be in MY bed naked.

* * *

Zach: That doesn’t sound nearly as fun.

* * *

Me: It is for me. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Me: We can be honest with each other, right?

* * *

Zach: I hope so.

* * *

Me: Did you expect this wrong number to turn out like it has?

* * *

Zach: You mean did I anticipate a virtual stranger texting me at random hours demanding I help her make decisions about what SHE wants to eat? Or sharing her rambling thoughts? Or her continually trying to sext with me? OR what about me buying a baby goat because said stranger wouldn’t shut up about how adorable they are and then I spent hours on Google watching videos of these precious angels and it turned into a weird obsession until I bought one.

* * *

Zach: All of that?

* * *

Me: I think you’ve summed up our relationship perfectly.

* * *

Zach: No, Delia, I didn’t expect all that out of a wrong number.

* * *

Me: Are you glad it happened?

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Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

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Zach: This adorable pint-size goat ate my favorite pair of shoes. I kind of hate you right now.

* * *

Zach: Yes…he said begrudgingly.

* * *

Me: Oh stop. I’m blushing.

* * *

Me: Honestly, though…it’s not weird?

* * *

Zach: Nah. Well, sort of. But nah.

* * *

Me: You make so much sense.

* * *

Zach: I know.

* * *

Me: Sigh. I’m supposed be productive right now but I can’t shut my brain off.

* * *

Zach: So you’re saying I’M on your mind? *wink*

* * *

Me: UGHHHHH.

* * *

Me: I keep digging my hole deeper with you.

* * *

Me: I SWEAR, if you make ONE friggin’ hole joke…

* * *

Zach: What are you going to do? Yell at me via text? I’m shaking in my boots.

* * *

Me: I will find you.

* * *

Zach: Let me guess, you have a very particular set of skills?

* * *

Me: I’m great with blow jobs.

* * *

Zach: HOLY S**T. I laughed so loud I farted and scared our baby goat.

* * *

Me: OUR baby goat, huh? I see what you did there…

* * *

Me: Oh no—what if we stop talking? What happens with Marshmallow? Or his brothers? HOW WILL I EVER GET TO SEE MY BABY AGAIN?! *cries*

* * *

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 s**t?

* * *

Me: Or some s**t.

Seven

“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 s**t. 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?