I turned my phone back on, and a couple of texts filtered through from Marshall. And one from number neighbor—Colby. I ignored Marshall's and went straight to the mysterious guy on the other end of a phone number that was only one digit different from mine.
Colby: Safe travels, Sage. Cool name I'll take off a few points and drop your douche level accordingly.
I rolled my eyes.
Sage: You sure worry a lot about a product you don't even have to use.
Colby: It's tacky right?
Sage: It can be. Maybe lead with something else next time. How old are you number neighbor?
Colby: Twenty-four. What about you?
Sage: Twenty-one. I'm impressed at this whole experience so far, I must say. They really knew what they were doing when they assigned these numbers.
Colby: Yeah, no shit. What were you on a plane for?
Sage: Work.
Colby: Are you a flight attendant?
I giggled at the thought. Me a flight attendant, that was ludicrous.
Sage: Nope. I'm an artist.
Colby: Right on. What kind of art?
Sage: Mostly scenic. I sell my blood sweat and tears to hotels and restaurant chains mostly. I keep the good stuff for Instagram.
Colby: Oh really?
I smirked. Sage: Yeah, I paint with my tits on the weekends.
Colby: Holy shit. I hope this is a joke but at the same time I hope it's true.
This guy wasn't so bad to talk to. I had traveled almost all the way across the country and never once had a breakdown because of Colby.
YOU ARE READING
Number Neighbor
FanfictionI wasn't expecting it-a text from someone I'd never met. Colby Brock is my number neighbor, and we have nothing in common. After weeks of texting, we become friends, confiding our deep dark secrets and building a bond I never thought could be possib...
