Page 41 of The Accidental Text

“Are you done?” I say, holding up a hand to stop her rant.

“I have more to say.”

“Please hold your objections until the witness has finished.”

The corner of her mouth lifts up slightly. “Well played with the attempt at lawyer speak,” she says.

“He has not sent me pictures of his junk. I’ve only seen his Instagram page.”

Hannah lets out a breath.

“If he was going to ask for money, it would be an elaborate scheme, and it’s not like I’m some billionaire to make all theeffort worth it. I’ve seen pictures of him, his family, and I even saw his mom’s obituary in the newspaper.”

After ending our texting yesterday, I did a bit more stalking. I found his sister’s Instagram page and she had posted the obituary. It wasn’t because I didn’t believe Chase; I just wanted to know more.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better, I guess.” She twists her mouth to the side. “But still … why would he text you like that?”

I shrug. “I guess he needed someone to talk to. Made sense since he knows that I’d just gone through the same thing.”

“Because of your texts to your mom.”

“Yes. Exactly. I know it’s … weird.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, looking around the room as she thinks. “Yes. I maintain that this whole thing is weird. I mean, I wouldn’t do that.”

“But you’re also heartless and dead on the inside.”

She points a finger at me. “Correct.”

This is Hannah’s MO. But the truth is, she’s a big softy. I just let her believe she’s cold and hardened, even though it’s not true.

“So now you’re like, what? Friends with this guy?”

“Not really; I hardly know him. It’s been nice to talk to him, though.”

“What does he look like?”

“I can show you,” I say, grabbing my phone from the table and pulling up the Instagram app. I type in his name and pull up his page.

Hannah takes my phone away and studies his picture. She moves the phone to the side and looks at me for a second, a questioning glare, and then brings the phone back to her face. Iwatch as she clicks out of the picture and studies the other ones in his feed.

“So”—she hands the phone back to me—“you should have started with ‘I’ve been texting this random hot guy.’ I would have had no problems with that.”

I laugh. “Liar. What about the catfishing?”

“That’s real, and you have to be careful. But like, that guy is super hot.”

“Well, I mean, he’s no Dawson,” I say.

“Does he have a girlfriend? That Chase guy?”

“I believe he’s single.”

“How do you know? What if he’s married?”

“Did you see anything in his Instagram feed that would make you think that? And besides, so what if he is? It’s not like something is happening between him and me. He’s actually been giving me advice about Dawson.”

Hannah pulls her face back, looking confused. “How would he know about Dawson?”

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