The Virtual Affection | #Wattys2018

#6 Bump!

I spend most of Math class scrolling through and reading Dave's old texts. As the bell rings and I make my way out of class, I bump into someone and my phone flies away from my hand.

"Sorry," I mutter and bend down to pick it up, but my head awkwardly bumps into someone else's, who's bent down to pick my phone as well.

"Ouch!"

"Ow!"

I recognise that voice. Deep and thick, like dark chocolate.

"My bad," he says awkwardly, and as I look up, fearing the worst, I see Dave Rodriguez bent inches away from my face, his translucent grey eyes pointed at me piercingly. Strands of his messy jet black hair fall over his forehead. His expression is blank and casual. Cherry on top, he's handing me my phone, with our text conversation gleaming on the screen.

I snatch it away with fumbling fingers, before realising how rude it might seem. "I'm sorry," I mutter again before giving him a soft smile, careful not to make eye-contact, and rushing away.

When he'd walked away, Jake suddenly puts an arm around my shoulder and gasps, "That was so romantic."

I rub my forehead, "He's got a hard head." 

"Did he see your texts?"

"Probably not. I mean, he didn't react, did he?"

"Yeah, you snatched it away pretty tough."

I feel bad for my impoliteness. The guy was courteous enough to pick my phone up, after all.

"Well, I had no option. He would've seen the texts."

"Okay, whatever. I got a date to kill."

"Emily?" I ask.

"Nah. That was yesterday."

I smirk, "Girls who don't see you coming deserve it."

"Wait, isn't that a line from – ?"

"What's your number, yeah," I say, grinning, "See you later."

oooooooo

Late that night, I lie on my bed, listening to the incessant rain and staring at my black phone screen. Dave hasn't texted tonight.

I scrutinise my reflection on the phone screen. Ash blonde hair, dark brown eyes, small nose and lips, and a thin face. I look pretty much like Mom. I guess that's why Dad hates me so much – because I'm too much of a reminder of her.

After a few minutes, I decide to spark conversation.

Me: Hey, Dave.

After ten minutes,

Dave: Sup.

I try to make him wait too, but my patience doesn't last any longer than five seconds.

Me: Nothing special. Felt like talking.

Dave: Anything wrong?

Me: No. Just feeling tired.

Dave: Try busting out your favourite song and pretend you're dancing with Zac Efron.

Me: Tried. Not working : )

Dave: So what's your favourite song?

Me: I'd say 'Budapest' by George Ezra.

Dave: Oh yeah, I've heard that song.

Me: My Mom used to love that song.

I don't know why I just told him that.

Dave: Used to?

Me: Yeah. She's dead.

After a few minutes,

Dave: How'd she die?

Painfully.

I wonder if I should tell him. I generally don't talk about Mom. But then again, what difference will it make?

Me: Well, I was twelve... she was working afternoon shifts in the hospital when a fire broke out and she got busy evacuating all the patients. Later, she got trapped in the debris and well, didn't make it.

Dave: Oh. Sorry.

Me: Yeah, whatever.

Dave: But hey, she died a hero.

Me: Yeah, whatever.

I wonder what will happen if Dave ever meets Caroline's mother.

Thankfully, he doesn't try to make any further conversation about Mom.

Dave: Maybe you can write a book.

Me: ??

Dave: You know, the best novels are often the outcome of deep sad crap in the writers' life.

Me: Well, maybe I will, someday.

Dave: That's the spirit.

Me: I don't know what I'll write about.

Dave: Well, let me give you an idea. Close your eyes and imagine this.

Me: If I close my eyes, how will I see your text?

Dave: Point. Ok, open your eyes and imagine. A lonely girl, walking along the wet pavements in the cold silence of a night...blurry city lights, trees lightly swaying, deserted streets...

Me: Ok, that's good...

Dave: When suddenly, she hears a deafening explosion in the distance... a zombie apocalypse has broken out!

Me: Oh, come on!!

Dave: What? Trust me, this will be great.

Me: No, you totally spoiled the story!

Dave: C'mon, zombies are awesome!

Me: Look, I'm a Walking Dead fan too, but I won't write a zombie book!

Dave: Ok. Suit yourself. Write one of those soppy romance craps. Wait, what if you actually write about zombie love?

Me: Oh, yeah, that'll be great. They'll steal each other's hearts. Literally.

Dave: Lol!! You totally have to dedicate that book to me! It'll be a bestseller, you'll see.

I smile. I think of how down I was feeling moments ago and now, just a few texts have lifted my spirit high up in the air. I don't know what this guy does to me.

Me: I sure hope it will : )

**Hope you all liked it!

Also, special thanks to my friend AmorosoCathy, who suggested me some great ideas!**