for what it’s worth, I like your tattoo too
He sends through the image I sent him last week. Fuck! How did he save it from Gone? I deleted it right away from my camera roll, force of habit from when Shane used to check my phone for anything he didn’t like. I tilt my head. I mean, I love my phoenix tattoo. I love everything it represents.
I love that Shane hasn’t ever seen it.
Still, I can’t believe I sent it to him. I’ve never sent anyone naughty pictures, but after seeing his, I couldn’t help myself. Again with something I never thought I’d do, but it was sucha rush.Idecided to send him that picture.I’mtaking control of my life, deciding what I do, where I go, who I talk to.
No one is going to control me ever again.
Me
I would ask how you managed to keep that picture, but I’m guessing it has something to do with you being a hacker
Wesley
yep
let’s get back to how you like me half dressed and wearing a mask
Me
did I say that?
Wesley
I think you did. Scroll up
Me
what kind of messed up person would like a man wearing a mask
Wesley
you will not see me judging you for that
as a matter of fact, I am happy to be half dressed in a mask for you at any time
“Fuuuuuuck.” I bite my lip and grin. I haven’t smiled this much in months. Most of my interactions with people—people being Jake or Lola—include me complaining or yelling or sighing deeply or cursing out Shane.
By the time my text conversation with Wes ends, I’m giggling like one of those middle school girls in Killer Beans.
It’s late, and the apartment is quiet. I scoop some food for Honey Bunny and get a text from Jake letting me knowhe’ll be out of town for a few nights, so I sit at my desk and do a search for Wesley Winters.
There’s nothing, of course. No social media, no professional profile, nothing.
Maybe I should be productive and browse houses for sale or apartments for rent in Seattle. My application for the program is complete, but I can’t get myself to press submit. I just can’t imagine myself there right now, so instead, I push the laptop away and pull out the latest book page art creation I’m working on. It’s half of an adorable hedgehog, and I continue to fold the pages, first in half and then the corners, to work on its body. It’s soothing and satisfying, and I manage to finish an entire hedgehog. I pull out my glue gun and attach big googly eyes, a black puffball nose, and a tiny pair of eyeglasses I bought online.
I crack up at the finished result, then climb into bed and turn off the light.
I awake with a start.A thin ray of moonlight beams in from the window. My bedside clock says it’s three o’clock in the morning. There’s a weird stillness in the room, probably because the streets are pretty quiet in the middle of the night, so noise from the outside is minimal. I’m not usually up at this hour.
But—
Something is off. I sit up and glance around the room. My bedroom door is cracked open. Didn’t I close it last night? Honey Bunny shifts in his cage, so I know he didn’t use his rabbit magic to open the door. My heart pounds like a bass drum, my eyes scanning the room until I get to the long shadows from the curtains that frame my window. Didsomething just move? My hand shakes, and I reach for my phone on the nightstand.
My fingers grasp for something that’s not there. Instead, I almost knock over my water bottle. I grab it to still it, then look back at the curtains.
I must’ve imagined it.
