I am surrounded with teens grinding on each other. How are you doing on this fine evening?
I'm in the same boat as you, sweetheart. Just some grinders. Damn...now I want a turkey grinder.
I hate how that made you think of food. Grinding. Should have known. I knew who I was dealing with here I should have chosen "twerking" instead. I think I want fruit punch.
It sucks. Bad.
Really?
Yeah...unfortunately. It tasted like that bad tap water mixed with flavored cherry packets.
That doesn't sound pleasant.
It most definitely wasn't.
Are you sure you aren't my friend? He is on his phone right now too and he looks pretty into his convo.
I am positive. I don't think you would ever call me a friend.
Okay...If I find out you are there will be consequences.
I bet. ;-)
There will be.
Uh huh.
Oh shit up!
What?...
*shut
You know. I am genuinely surprised there hasn't been a typo made this whole time we have been texting.
In all honesty-same
At least something to put some excitement into this strange environment. I see the grinders.
Oh damn. I left them.
Really? I can't escape them.
Good luck! I am going to go find my friend Emily! Have a nice night!
Good luck to you too.
YOU ARE READING
Your Number
Short StoryIt all started when at 4:25 a text directed towards Carmen's mom sent to someone else. Someone she might know. Someone she might even have history with. Will the anonymous person ever get his tacos?
