Blearily, I open my eyes. All the events from last night come back and I want to take back the words I said. I have no right to get angry at him when I don't understand the situation.
I take my phone out of the drawer and look at his messages. There are multiple, and I scroll through them.
ethan: ashley i didn't mean it like that
ethan: sorry i'm just frustrated too
ethan: please reply
ethan: i'm going to try harder to understand your viewpoint too
ethan: i'm really trying, but we've grown so distant and apart
ethan: i barely know you anymore
ethan: and everything i say seems like it'll anger you more
ethan: i'm so sorry
ethan: i'm really sorry
ethan: i really hope we can work this out
I'm touched by his texts and I feel the need to apologize as well. It was mainly my fault, assuming things and taking matters the wrong way when I don't understand the situation.
me: i'm the one that should be sorry
me: you didn't do anything wrong
me: i just overreacted
me: this is new for me and i'm trying to keep an open mind here
It's nighttime for him, and I wonder if he'll wonder why I'm finally texting him now after avoiding him the whole day. If he'll wonder why I didn't wait until next morning to reply.
ethan: so...
I almost sigh of relief when I see his reply text.
ethan: what now?
He's at a loss of words just as much as I am. There's a standstill while we both think of another thing to say. I decide to take initiative, to show that I'm just as eager to talk to him as he is to me.
me: you were telling me all about what happened after i left
me: please tell me more
ethan: of course
He practically jump at the option to change the subject, and I can feel the collective breath of relief as we move onto another topic. Even so, the whole situation still lingers in my mind, and I know I'll be on tenderhooks while talking to Ethan for a while.
ethan: but first tell me about what happened to you
ethan: how's your life?
I fidget with my fingers uncomfortably, then begin typing.
me: i only moved a few cities away so we're still in the same area
me: while we're not in the same state
me: we have the same time zones and such
ethan: did you get a boyfriend?
I blink and almost want to laugh. As if that would ever even be possible. He's been the only boy that has ever shown me any interest, and that's not even for me. It's for another girl, so I can't accept his affection as "interest for me".
me: are you jealous?
ethan: yes
My phone drops from my hands and onto the table, clattering on the wood. I'm immediately taken aback by his straightforward words and the effect they have on me. Especially when those words are not and should not affect me.
ethan: why would i not be jealous
ethan: but answer my question
me: i wasn't avoiding it
ethan: well you are now
I groan at his words, not liking how he saw right through me. Then again, it was kind of obvious.
me: no i'm not
Half of me wants to lie to see his reaction, but the other half doesn't want this unneeded complication. What if he apologizes and leaves? Or something else completely different could happen. Still, telling him the truth could cause a situation as well.
I decide on telling him the truth, to always stick to the truth unless absolutely needed. This would make it easier for me to remember and minimize my chances of messing up.
me: i didn't
me: i've never
ethan: what do you mean never
ethan: did i not happen
I can practically see all his suspicion bleeding out all of that text. I know I messed up, and he's caught onto it.
me: i mean i never had one after i moved
Nervously, I wait for his reply. But there's nothing he could do, my reply was perfectly valid and it was a good response. It wasn't even a lie, so I don't even feel panic about telling him that. Besides, it can be easily passed off as a miscommunication.
ethan: good
ethan: i want to be your first and last
I want to cry. He's so romantic and cheesy and he's so goddamned earnest. Never mind about crying, I want to hate him.
I want to hate him because he's making my mission so hard. I want him to find the other Ashley, not me, but how can I do that when I want to keep him to myself? He's luring me in, he's making me fall for him, he's making me care for him, and he's making me love him.
Realizing I haven't replied to him, I quickly type something in. My brain is a mess, and I can't trust it to function properly.
me: well
me: you're first
me: but we'll see about being last
ethan: is that a challenge?
ethan: i've been first and on top of the race, haven't i?
I smile wanly. He's not my first. I'm not giving him a challenge. There is no race.
me: you're winning because there is no race
ethan: that means you've only liked me before, right?
ethan: am i the first and last for that?
What can I tell him? That I don't know either? That I can't remember having any crush myself? Again, I want to lie and say no, because I must have had a crush, but it'd be easier saying yes.
me: yes
me: you're the only one
ethan: see? that's why there's no race
ethan: because you only love me
ethan: there's only room for me in your heart
me: you're poetic
Internally, I add and I like it.
Of course, I can't tell him that. Maybe I should, to pretend to be Ashley and show some interest. But I'm not sure how he'd react to that either.
ethan: and you like it
ethan: don't you?
Shutting my eyes closed, I sigh. I cannot be that transparent and see through even through text. It's like he heard me whisper it out loud, that somehow my thoughts traveled thousands of miles to reach him.
me: don't be so full of yourself
ethan: you do like it
ethan: you're just too shy and embarrassed to admit it
Lifting my eyes to the ceiling, I will him to stop. This isn't going anywhere. This can't go anywhere.
The only direction it can go is towards Ashley, the real one that he likes.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Pretending
Teen FictionWhen Ashley Lee receives romantic texts from a boy that aren't meant for her, she answers them under the pretense that she is the girl that he originally meant to text. As their relationship furthers and it becomes harder to keep up her facade, she...
