Can't Text This (Texting, #3)

by Teagan Hunter

I spotted her from across the room, an easy feat with her bright red hair, and I had to draw closer.

From a distance, she was cute. Up close? Beautiful. Her porcelain skin was dotted with freckles. Eyes were wide with wonder, bright with intoxication, and green as the sea.

It’s been a few months now, but I’m still getting used to living on my own. We were roommates up until recently when Zach met “the one” and kicked his first love—me—to the curb. Kidding…mostly.

“I’ll take two, please.” “You’ll make your own.” “Come on, be a good sport.” “Yeah, Dad. Uncle Zach drove all the way over here to have breakfast with us and you won’t even feed him? I thought that’s what dads are supposed to do—give toys, food, and love.” “To kids.” “Uncle Zach is the biggest kid I know.” Zach fist-bumps him. “Right on, little man. Right on.” I stare at my best friend, mouth hanging open in shock. “You’ve turned my own spawn against me? That’s messed up, man.” He shrugs and reaches across the counter to grab two waffles. “Can you pass the peanut butter?” “I hate you,” I mutter as I slide it his way. He opens the jar and begins slathering the creamy substance on his waffles, grinning. “I love you too.”

For being such a huge nerd, the dude has game that makes even me swoon.

Then he grabs his plate and takes off for the living room. I’ve never seen a kid walk so cautiously before. He knows he better not drop a single crumb on the floor. Zach chuckles. “You’ve got that turd trained.” “Someone needed to.”

“Is Uncle Zach dying?” Xavie calls out from the living room. “We hope so! I think I’m in his will.” “Yay, money!”

I asked her if she wanted to see my python.” He nearly falls off the stool from laughing so hard, and I love that I didn’t have to explain it to him at all. “Fucking genius,” he says, pulling his black frames off his face and wiping away the tears that have formed in his eyes. “Even I would have followed you into the bathroom after that one.” I smirk. “I wouldn’t have to use any lines on you.” “Only because I’m easy.” “I’m sure Delia loves that.”

“Who you texting, Dad?” “Business.” “Business?” “Yeah, none of yours.”

“You’re the best, Uncle Zach!” “I know.” I picture him dusting off the shoulder of his leather jacket as he says this, because that’s so something Zach would do.

“Be good. Be smart. Be kind.” “Be good. Be smart. Be kind,”

“Hey!” she calls when I step out. “I heard you finger-banged some girl in the bathroom of a bar.” “I fucking hate your boyfriend.”

He felt…off limits. Forbidden. All kinds of wrong, and so right.

Monty: Hi Robert Cross. I’m Montana Andrews. Even though you’ve already had your tongue down my throat and your hand up my skirt, it’s nice to officially meet you. Me: Likewise, Montana.

I gave in easily, only because I wanted Marshmallow snuggles. The pygmy goat is the only one who likes me out of the three. Milk Chocolate and Graham Cracker snub me every time I try to get close, the little shits.

He laughs at his own joke. “You told her you wanted to bang her—that’s not having charm.” “You told me to tell her that!” “And you listened to me? I can’t believe that.” “I hate you.”

“You got it, babe,” I mock. “Disgusting.” “You just wish I’d call you babe.” Zach smacks a kiss to my cheek and dodges my fist before running up the stairs to go place the pizza order.

Me: Is it possible to die from rolling your eyes so hard? Python: You texted back, so apparently not.

the way to my heart is telling me how much you missed me.

All I can think about is Robbie.

Me: Thumbelina Bruce Wayne Cross

Python: I don’t get it. Me: Hello random conversation. Python: Huh? Me: Sometimes I feel like you text me in the middle of a conversation you’re having with yourself. It’s endearing at times, but also very confusing. Python: We’re supposed to be all in sync by now, Monty. Get with the program. Me: Sorry. You’re right. Let’s start over. Python: I don’t get it. Me: OMG!!! I KNOW!!! ME EITHER!!! Python: Wow. Nice overkill. Me:

Me: Then we’ll stick to that—getting to know each other, then work it out of our systems and going our separate ways. Python: Yes. Yes, I’m liking this plan. Me: If you don’t fall in love with me first, that is.

Denver is wild and carefree; I’m reserved and careful. She’s a boy magnet, and I’m certain I put off some sort of repellant. She’s “experienced”, and I’m virtually untouched compared to her.

Denver has shoulder-length dark brown hair and skin that doesn’t burn after she’s in the sun for five minutes,

It’s like she was made for me,

Her hands land on my bare chest, and the touch burns my skin.

“Wow.” Zach shakes his head. “I never pegged you as a bad lay.” I scowl. “You’ve thought about my bedroom skills?” “With those biceps, can you blame me?” He sends me a teasing wink.

“Good morning, boys. I heard you exchanging ‘I love yous’, by the way.” She shakes her phone at Zach. “I recorded it for future blackmail.” I blink at my best friend. “You’re dating the devil, you know that, right?” He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “I know. Aren’t her horns so cute?” “I swear, fate couldn’t have brought together two better suited weirdos.” “That wasn’t fate, Robbie, that was you. Don’t forget, this is all your fault,” Delia says. “I hate myself.” “But you love us.” She shakes her phone again. “I have proof.”

“What happened? I want all the juicy details.” “Yeah, Robbie, tell her how bad you are in the sack.” “I am not bad in the sack.” Delia frowns. “That’s a bummer. I always thought you’d be amazing.” “That’s what I said!” Zach agrees before furrowing his brows. “Wait a damn minute—you think of him in the sack?” “With biceps like those, can you blame a girl?”

“What?” Delia inquires innocently. “What’d I say?” Zach grins, proud of his girl. “Exactly what I did.” She falls into a fit of laughter. “I love us.” “Me too, and you know what else I love?” “Pizza? Me too. I’ll make us some.”

Me: I have two things to say to you, Monts. You ready? Me: #1, it didn’t work. Whatever we did last night, it didn’t fucking work. I’m still thinking about you, and I’m gonna need more—a whole hell of a lot more. Me: #2, you can run, but we’re not done. THIS isn’t done. We clear? Monty: We’re clear.

Me: I’m scared. Python: Then walk away. Me: I can’t.

Me: I just want to kiss you because I like kissing you. Python: I’m screenshotting that.

We’re supposed to be light and fluffy. I shouldn’t get butterflies every time I’m around him, shouldn’t feel like I have this heavy weight on my shoulders when I’m not. Yet, I do, and it’s frightening. Thrilling.

“No, you don’t get it. I can’t stop thinking about you, or your ass, your tits…your kissable-as-fuck mouth.” I chuckle at how far off this conversation just went, in typical Robbie fashion. “Or your off-the-wall personality and stupid sexy grandma outfits, which is kind of embarrassing if you think about it.”

“I know this was supposed to be light and fluffy and fun or whatever, but it’s evolved. I want more than that. I want stability. I want real. I want you.”

“You want me?” “Fuck yes I do. You’re the first thing I think about in the morning—after

“You weren’t supposed to be so addicting.”

He sighs. “Haven’t you realized by now that I think you’re beautiful no matter what? Those freckles you hate so much are sexy as shit. Your—”

“The red hair you think is ‘bright and unattractive’ is alluring. It calls to me. Your body, which you often complain about, is what most would call perfection. Your long legs that make you ‘look like a giraffe’? Fucking hot, especially wrapped around me. Hell, even your Casper complexion is hot.”

I’ve never felt beautiful. I’ve never felt sexy. Until Robbie.

“I’m saying you’re sexy as fuck, Monts, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you aren’t. I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t want you because of your self-designated flaws. I love you just the way you are.”

I’m falling for him.

“You’re that thing I never knew I wanted until I had it. You’re fun and adventure and temptation all wrapped into one, and I want to give in to you so badly.” We both know I’m talking about so much more than what’s at the surface of my words. I’m not just talking about giving in to the impulses he awakens in me. I’m talking about giving in to what he makes me feel. Love. “Then give in.” The words. Hushed. Whispered. Pleaded. “I already have.”

Maybe Robbie isn’t the guy I thought he was, isn’t my new adventure. Maybe he’s just a stepping stone. If that’s the case, why does this hurt so much?

Missing someone you aren’t sure you ever really had is strange.

“We were doing the light and fluffy thing.” “Ah, yes. Makes sense. No strings attached—that’s your MO.” “It’s hard to attach strings when you have a kid in the mix.” She lifts her hands. “Trust me, I get it. That’s why I kept crawling back to you. It was easy, and easy is always nice.” She huffs. “Look, I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to get mad, okay?” My sagging shoulders lift at her tone, ready for whatever she wants to throw at me. Holly has always been a straight shooter, and it’s one of my favorite things about her. “Hit me with it.” “First, I think you’re a fucking moron for breaking up with her.” I laugh at her bluntness, because it’s so Holly. “Second, you’re running because you’re scared, because you’re used to easy. You fell into that pattern and it’s hard for you to break it. This girl, though, she challenges you. You like it, but you’re afraid to like it too much.” She gives me a sad smile. “Though based on the way you look right now, I think it’s a little too late for that. So, just give in. Fight for her.” “Fight for her?” I repeat. “Oh yeah. Women love it when men do that shit. You’ll learn eventually.”

I have to fight for her, for us.

“On it, Pops.” “Pops? That’s a new one.” “Just something I’m testing out.”