Six
Me: Save me. I’m bored.
Zach: I’m not sending you dirty texts, Delia.
Me: I DID NOT SAY THAT.
Zach: Oh, please. This entire thing was a cry for dirty pictures.
Me: You are such a damn liar. You wish I wanted pictures from you.
Zach. I’m sending you one. BRB.
Me: Wow. The anticipation is killing me.
Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Me: You took a bathroom selfie with Marshmallow?!
Zach: His first. I’m so proud of him. Hope I got his best angle.
Me: He looks great, and I love how you still don’t show your entire face.
Zach: That’ll just ruin the surprise for when you give in and finally agree to meet up with me.
Zach: I’m way cute, by the way.
Me: Bushy eyebrows and all, huh?
Zach: Is that a sexual thing you’re into? Bushy brows? HOLD ON. Did you save my picture for your spank bank?
Me: OF YOUR EYEBROWS?! No, you freak!!!
Zach: I bet you’re into weird sexual shit.
Me: Am not. I’m vanilla.
Me: Shit, that’s the last thing I should admit to a guy. I’m a horrible flirt.
Zach: Wait, we’re flirting? Shit. I would have sent you a pic of my six-pack if I had known. Hang on.
Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Me: Okay, I was expecting beer because you’re lame like that, and a VERY small part of me was hoping for a picture of your actual abs, but this? Yeah…I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even know people still owned those fake abs shirts.
Zach: In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a bit of a nerd. P.S. How’d you like those muscles?
Me: Oh. Hmm…I didn’t even see. Let me zoom in real quick.
Me: That right arm appears to be a little bigger than the left. Hmm… *taps chin*
Zach: That’s my gaming mouse arm.
Me: And the nerd hits keep on coming.
Zach: How about this…you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.
Me: My what?
Zach: I don’t know. Anything.
Zach: Come on, Delia. Let’s get textual.
Me: Did you just…
Me: I can’t right now. CANNOT EVEN.
Zach: You love that I supply you with endless witty banter and say stupid shit. Come on, admit it—you like it.
Me: I do not!
Me: *whispers* I really do.
Zach: BUSTED!
Zach: Now, you going to send a pic or what?
Me: No faces, right?
Zach: No, because we’re not ruining the surprise.
Me: Fine. One moment.
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Zach: YOUR FEET?!
Me: Is that not what you wanted? Oh, my bad. I assumed that was what one did while sexting.
Zach: Some people are super into it, and whatever, that’s their thing, but no. GOOD LORD, NO.
Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Me: Omg. Who painted your toenails?!
Zach: My roommate has a son who is super into nail polish right now, so I let him paint my toes for me.
Me: I have tears in my eyes. You’re amazing.
Me: Does the kiddo spend a lot of time there?
Zach: Every other weekend. He’s conked out in my bed with Marshmallow right now. They’re best friends.
Zach: How did we go from talking about sexting to talking about kids? I feel ripped off.
Me: It was the feet.
Zach: Be honest…did you save THAT pic for the spank bank?
Me: Obviously. Who doesn’t love sparkly man feet?
Me: Okay, no. That made me throw up in my mouth.
Me: Zach? Did I lose you at that? Too far?
Me: Huh. Guess so. It was nice knowing you…
Me: Did I do something wrong? We tend to text often and, yeah, I feel like I’ve been ghosted for the last sixteen hours.
Zach: I think it’s sweet you’ve counted the number of hours since we last chatted. You like me.
Me: Never.
Zach: No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Delia. I was tangled up with Xavier and Marshmallow. Both shit the bed, so that was fun. Then Xavier’s mom’s car broke down and Robbie had to figure out what was up there and it was a whole thing. I wasn’t ignoring you, promise.
Zach: Confession: I picked up my phone three different times to text you today and each time I was pulled away to do something else.
Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Me: You sent me a picture of shit. Baby goat shit and baby human shit. You’re horrible at sexting.
Me: P.S. I don’t envy you.
Me: Oh and I’m glad you’re not mad at me. I was worried I’d ruined our beautiful, yet strange friendship.
Zach: I’m not THAT easy to get rid of.
Zach: What’s on the agenda the rest of the night?
Me: Work. I’m here now. Hopefully I’ll be cut and sent home soon though. We’re dead and I could go for an ice cream and a nap—in that order.
Zach: Please tell me you enjoy respectable ice cream.
Me: Is that your way of asking me what kind I eat?
Zach: Yes.
Me: Brand or flavor?
Zach: Both, because they both matter.
Me: Mint Chocolate Chip, Baskin Robbins.
Zach: Hmm…I’ll allow it. Although BR is much better fresh, their selection isn’t horrible compared to others.
Me: And what kind of ice cream do you enjoy?
Zach: Birthday cake is my favorite but it’s hard to find a quality frozen one. I usually make a special trip across town for it.
Me: Do you go where I think you go?
Zach: Boom’s?
Me: YESSSS! Best. Ice cream. Ever.
Zach: Let’s go. Right now. Put your pants on, we’re headed to Boom’s!
Me: You’re joking…
Zach: I am, but only because I’m already in bed…naked.
Me: Oh I wish I were there.
Zach: You want to be in bed naked with me? I like where this is going, Delia.
Me: I want to be in MY bed naked.
Zach: That doesn’t sound nearly as fun.
Me: It is for me. ;-)
Me: We can be honest with each other, right?
Zach: I hope so.
Me: Did you expect this wrong number to turn out like it has?
Zach: You mean did I anticipate a virtual stranger texting me at random hours demanding I help her make decisions about what SHE wants to eat? Or sharing her rambling thoughts? Or her continually trying to sext with me? OR what about me buying a baby goat because said stranger wouldn’t shut up about how adorable they are and then I spent hours on Google watching videos of these precious angels and it turned into a weird obsession until I bought one.
Zach: All of that?
Me: I think you’ve summed up our relationship perfectly.
Zach: No, Delia, I didn’t expect all that out of a wrong number.
Me: Are you glad it happened?
Zach: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Zach: This adorable pint-size goat ate my favorite pair of shoes. I kind of hate you right now.
Zach: Yes…he said begrudgingly.
Me: Oh stop. I’m blushing.
Me: Honestly, though…it’s not weird?
Zach: Nah. Well, sort of. But nah.
Me: You make so much sense.
Zach: I know.
Me: Sigh. I’m supposed be productive right now but I can’t shut my brain off.
Zach: So you’re saying I’M on your mind? *wink*
Me: UGHHHHH.
Me: I keep digging my hole deeper with you.
Me: I SWEAR, if you make ONE friggin’ hole joke…
Zach: What are you going to do? Yell at me via text? I’m shaking in my boots.
Me: I will find you.
Zach: Let me guess, you have a very particular set of skills?
Me: I’m great with blow jobs.
Zach: HOLY SHIT. I laughed so loud I farted and scared our baby goat.
Me: OUR baby goat, huh? I see what you did there…
Me: Oh no—what if we stop talking? What happens with Marshmallow? Or his brothers? HOW WILL I EVER GET TO SEE MY BABY AGAIN?! *cries*
Zach: You won’t. *evil laughter*
Me: ZACH!
Zach: DELIA!
Me: You’re sassy today.
Zach: Aren’t you supposed to be being productive or some shit?
Me: Or some shit.