Page 36 of The Accidental Text

Chase:Too far?

I smile and shake my head.

Maggie:No … just processing. Also, thank you.

Chase:Well, save all this advice for the next guy. It’s worth gold.

Maggie:And then if I try and fail miserably, I have you to blame.

Chase:Win-win

Maggie:I have only myself to blame with Dawson.

Chase:Right, Dawson. Forgot his name.

Maggie:Like you’re supposed to. Good job. Forget all the things.

Chase sends back one of those emojis with the head exploding.

Chase:Why are you to blame?

Maggie:I should have just been blunt. I should have asked him out. But I’ve become a chicken since my mom died.

Chase:A chicken? You didn’t tell me about this side effect. So month … what is it?

Maggie:Month 4

Chase:Okay, so month 4, I’m going to turn into a chicken. I’ll put that on my calendar.

Maggie:I think it’s been going on for longer than that, but I haven’t had a chance to test it out until recently. Let’s hope you don’t get this one.

Chase:I’m guessing it’s an anxiety thing, and I’ve been feeling that already.

Maggie:Right. That “what else could go wrong” feeling.

Chase:Yeah, that one

Maggie:It could be an extension of that. Never thought of it that way.

Chase:Who needs therapy when you’ve got me?

Maggie:Not sure I should be getting therapy from a stranger over text.

Or from someone who recently lost his mom. I don’t think that’s necessary to say, though.

Chase:We’re not strangers anymore.

Maggie:True. You know too much already. I, however, don’t know all that much about you.

Chase:I don’t know anything. I’ve un-remembered it.

Maggie:Liar

Chase sends a smiling emoji.

Chase:Thanks for this. For chatting with me. It helped. I’ve got some stuff I need to do, and I guess I should let you get back to whatever you were doing.

I look down at the tattered pajama shorts and cotton tank I’m wearing and then over to the now completely melted ice cream that I was drowning my frustrations with before Chase texted me.

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