Page 38 of The Accidental Text

Maggie:I mean, you should probably tell me ten things. Even that won’t come close.

Chase:Okay. Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you.

Maggie:They have to be bad things. None of this “I save puppies in my spare time” junk. I mean, that would be cool if you did. I just need stuff to hold over your head.

Chase:Got it. I’ll get you some real juicy stuff. Promise.

Chase:What have you been up to?

Maggie:Just getting ready for a big work party.

Chelsea has had me doing a lot of things this week for the party. Checking on little details, on RSVPs, making sure we have enough seating for everyone. It’s taken up most of my week.

Chase:Oh yes, the anniversary party.

Maggie:Did I tell you about it?

I search my brain, trying to remember if I told him when we were texting yesterday. Chase sends back one of those sheepish-looking emojis.

Maggie:Oh my hell

Chase:I’m sorry. You were complaining about how much Chelsea was making you do, and wishing your mom could be there to celebrate. It’s an easy one to remember.

I’m starting to wonder if Chase has a photographic memory or something. I mean, I can’t even remember what I ate for breakfast this morning. Wait, yes I can. It was overnight oats with honey and cinnamon. My favorite. But still, his ability to remember the things I texted to him is a little frightening. Especially since I need him to forget it all.

Maggie:I want that list. Stat.

Chase:I’ll work on it, promise.

“Who’s Chase?” Hannah asks, and I jolt at the sound of her voice.

I was so caught up in the texting between Chase and me that I didn’t realize the arguing had ended.

Now Hannah is standing over me, her eyes on my phone. Halmoni is cleaning up the kitchen, the argument she was having with Hannah resolved or forgotten.

Crap.

“Who’s Chase, and why are you smiling at your phone like a weirdo?” she says, accusation in her tone.

“I haven’t been smiling at my phone,” I say, pulling my brows inward.

“Yes, you have. Like a weirdo. Now … who is Chase? And why have I never heard of this guy?”

“He’s just … someone I met.” I reach up and play with my necklace.

Hannah sits back down at the table. She now looks appalled. “And you didn’t tell me about him?”

“You’ve been busy.” This is true; however, it’s alsonotthe reason I withheld this information from her.

“Okay,” she says, placing her forearms on the table andintertwining her fingers. I know this look. I’m about to be interrogated.

“Let us look at the facts,” she starts.

“I didn’t break any laws.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. And you did break the friendship code. While not illegal, it’s offensive.” She looks and sounds very lawyerly right now as she starts her interrogation.

“It’s not what you think.”

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