“Did she stop texting on day seven or before?”
I look down at my feet as they pound one by one on the pavement, acting like I’m trying to remember what day it was even though I knew the exact days and how significant that last message I sent to her was.
“I’d have to look. It was on Monday.”
“I’m sorry, man. That was day seven. I was watching people’s accounts on the back end to make sure everything went smoothly.”
“So, there were other people who made it that far on the first week?”
His voice rises a little in excitement that he’s created something special for people. “Yeah, they did.”
“Tell me how that works then. When I sent the message, what happened on her end?”
“Once you sent the message on the seventh day, the app notified her that she’d reached day seven of the relationship, saying if she responded, she’d be giving the app approval to send her number to you.”
“And that’s it? You’re either all in or all out? There’s no way to keep talking if you’re unsure?”
He turns to me, and I can tell he’s seeing through the nonchalant bullshit I’m trying to play off, so I look forward and pretend I didn’t see him checking me out.
“Yeah, it gives an option to keep talking on the app and not give out their phone number. They just have to click the button that states so.”
I run down all the things that I said in our conversations, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t at least say she wanted more time to talk.
I’m in my own world—or misery—when Donny asks, “I take it, she hasn’t done anything.”
I shake my head, sick of fighting my emotions, and just say it how it is. “Nope. She completely ghosted me.”
“I’m sorry, man. That sucks.”
I can hear the empathy in his voice, which just makes me run a little faster. I’m even madder now that she disappeared the way she did, knowing that we could have kept talking on the app if she was unsure.
Thankfully, Donny keeps up and doesn’t say another word about this mystery girl or the app, and we get one hell of a run in.
After I’m back at my apartment and showered, I sit on my couch, staring at the app and my last few messages to her. I’ve never wanted to call someone out as much as I do her, but I know that won’t solve anything. I hate not knowing why she hasn’t responded, but anything I say to her now will just make me look desperate, so instead of messaging her, I decide to call my sister, knowing she’ll allow me to have my pity party.
“What’s up, big bro?” she answers, and I instantly feel a little better.
“Hi, Katie. You got a minute to talk?”
I hear rustling around while she whispers something I can’t hear to someone else before she comes back to me.
“Of course. What’s up?”
“Why would a woman ghost a guy?” I blurt out, knowing I can be as blunt as possible with her and not worry about what she may think.
“Ouch. Who ghosted you?”
“Jenelle. The girl on the app I told you about.”
“Really? I thought you two were getting along really well.”
I sigh, dropping my head back on my couch and running my hand down my face. “I thought so too. We made it to day seven, and nothing. She hasn’t responded yesterday or today. Donny said if she wasn’t sure about giving me her number, she could have said so on the app, and I we could still talk, but?—”
“She hasn’t done that …” She finishes my sentence.
“Nope. She hasn’t said a word since Sunday.”
“Was there any sign of things going wrong then?”
