My phone buzzes beside my plate. I swipe it fast.
Spam. Again.
I set it down, screen-up, then turn it face down.
Maya lets out a sigh, equal parts judgment and curiosity. “Okay, Rorie, you’ve checked that thing more times than a teenage girl waiting on a Snapchat. Spill.”
Jeremy perks up, eyes wide. “Ohhh, is this aboything?”
Maya lifts a perfectly arched brow, tearing a garlic knot in half.“Is it?”
I roll my eyes and push the phone away. “It’s nothing.”
Jeremy leans in, elbows on the table, as if we’re about to unlock national secrets over marinara and mocktails. “Nothing doesn’t make your pupils dilate like that, babe.”
“It’s work stuff.”
“Work stuff with cheekbones?” Maya presses. “And maybe a dimple?”
“It’snota boy thing,” I insist. “Or a Nolan Rhodes thing.”
There’s a beat of silence. They both stare. Waiting.
Jeremy grins. “So itisNolan Rhodes.”
“It’s not!”
“Rorie.” Jeremy gives me a look that would make a nun confess.
I slump back against the booth. “It’s not a big deal. Some guy texted me by mistake last night. Thought I was his ex. I answered. We talked for a few hours. It was dumb.”
“Oh. My. God!” Jeremy claps his hands together like a delighted seal. “It’s a digital meet-cute!”
Maya’s expression tightens, her suspicion immediate. “What’s his name?”
I blink. “I…don’t know.”
She stares at me as though I told her I handed my social security number to a guy in a ski mask. “Let me get this straight. You stayed up texting some random guy for hours, and at no point did you exchange names?”
“It didn’t come up,” I mutter, peeling at the edge of a napkin.
Maya gingerly sets her garlic knot down. “Rorie.”
“Relax, Maya.” Jeremy waves her off. “It’s a mystery text thread, not a blood pact. You don’t exactly get W-2s onRomance Rouletteeither.”
“Yeah,” she snaps back. “But youdoget a name.”
“Not always a real one. The last guy’s username wasThickRickOfficial, but he ghosted me the second I asked for proof.”
“Why are you still on there?” Maya asks.
He shrugs. “Hope springs eternal. And so do liars with Wi-Fi and a ring light.”
“Exactly my point.” Maya refocuses on me. “Why’d you keep texting him?”
Because he made me laugh. Because I forgot about Vanguard. About Nolan and Big Stream. About everything I keep failing to outrun. Because it felt like floating after months of trying not to drown.
“I was bored. He was funny. It distracted me.”
