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The thought of seeing him outside of that stuffy office sort of excites me. That, combined with the alcohol, is making me brave. “Fine.” I pull up the text app and hover my thumbs over the phone. “Tell me what to say.”
“Say, ‘Hi, whatcha doin?’,” Lauryn suggests.
I nod and type it out. I take a deep breath and hitsend.
I’m shocked when he responds.
Carter:Relaxing.
“Ooh, at least he replied,” Christa says. “Ok say this: ‘I’m hanging out at Silver Park. Wanna get a drink with me?’”
I type it out and send it.
His response takes a full two minutes of torture.
Ding!
Carter:I don’t think that’s a good idea.
I show them the text.
“Damn,” Christa says.
“What do I say now?” I ask, feeling a little hurt by the rejection but knowing he is still on thekeep it professionalbullshit.
“Say, ‘That’s too bad,’” Lauryn suggests.
“No! I got it. Say, ‘Do you want me to come over and help you relax?’,” Christa suggests.
I slap her arm. “I am not saying that!”
“I say go with my suggestion,” Lauryn says.
“Nah, leave him on read,” Christa says.
I don’t know what to do so I decide to just not respond. I suck at this flirting thing. My mind drifts back to the computer program I found and the secret app. I’m dying to tell my friends—at least Christa—about what I’d found on that program but I don’t dare. The date from the mass text is a week away and I’m definitely showing up at the address, even if I just stay in my car and watch what’s going on.
