Page 41 of Can't Text This

Python:Are you being serious right now? Did you really bruise?

Me:Yes. Had a nice little reminder of our encounter for DAYS.

Python:Shit. I’m so sorry. I had no idea I was holding you up there at such a horrible angle for you. I feel terrible.

Python:And also a little sad I didn’t get to tend to the bruise.

Me:You don’t tend to bruises. You just want to see my butt.

Python:True.

Python:I really am sorry, though, and I do feel bad.

Me:Eh, it’s no big deal. I bruise easily, and it’s not like I was shoving you away.

Python:Because you want me.

Me:I’m deleting your number.

Python:Deleting it doesn’t mean I can’t still text you.

Me:Oh, right. BLOCKED!

Python:Suuuuure.

Me:MONTY ANDREWS HAS SIGNED OFF

Python:Nope, still not right.

Me:UGH

Seven

Monty

All I can think about isRobbie.

Scratch that, all I can think about isgiving into Robbie.

We’ve been texting nearly non-stop for almost two weeks now, and every time he brings up our “plan”, I want to ask him for his address and drive over to his house…throw open the door, wrap my legs around his waist, demand he carry me to the nearest bedroom.

And finally lose my virginity.

All because of him. He’s crass and sweet and so unlike any guy I’ve ever met.

It’s really beginning to get to me.

Other than my ex, I’ve had approximately one boyfriend…if you count holding hands with a boy in the sixth grade as having a boyfriend. It isn’t a lot to base my whole “unlike any guy I’ve ever met” thing off of, but it’s enough.

I shouldn’t still be thinking about him though…right?

“Pardon me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I apologize quickly.

It’s official—I’ve lost it. Robbie is so stuck in my mind that I was just seconds away from running over an elderly woman.

“It’s no problem, sweets. You look like you’ve got your head in the clouds. Thinking about a man?”

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