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Connor: I couldn’t if I tried.
Ava: Yeah? Because for a minute there, I’m pretty sure you did.
Connor: When?
Ava: The whole Rhys thing?
Connor: …
Ava: About how you make me uncomfortable…
Connor: Ohhhh! You mean *that* thing.
Ava: …
Connor: So what exactly did you mean by that?
Ava: You don’t want to know.
Connor: I mean… I asked, right?
The three dots on the screen appear, disappear. Again and again. My anxiety builds. And builds. To the point of—
Ava: So these serial killers…
Shaking my head, I smile at her response.
Connor: What’s your middle name, Ava?
Ava: I have two. Elizabeth Diana.
Connor: Like, the Royal family?
Ava: lol. Yes. My mom was a little obsessed. What about you, Connor? What’s your middle name?
Connor: Jordan.
Ava: As in Michael? Lol. Did you have your whole life planned out before you were even born?
Connor: I’d love to say yes, but no. Just a fluke, I guess.
Ava: Got it.
Connor: Yep.
Ava: So…
Connor: So…
Ava: I should probably get back to this homework.
Connor: yeah, I should probably do the same.
Ava: See you at school?
Connor: Yep.
I drop my phone in my desk drawer, slam it shut. Keep it away from temptation. Because sending her useless, one-word texts is the second-best time I’ve had since I moved here. The best was when she was riding shotgun in my car.
