Miguel
Wires haven’t killed me yet. You?
Caleb
Slept through my first alarm and nearly died sprinting to class. But I’m here. Trying not to think about you going to therapy for the first time.
Staring at that last line for a second too long.
Miguel
Ah, so we’re both pretending we’re chill. Cute.
Caleb
Shut up.
Are you… nervous?
My thumb hovers over the keyboard—No feels like a lie and a yes feels like too much weight to drop in his lap when he’s already dragging his own shit to Dr. Kaur every week.
Miguel
Little bit. Mostly I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.
“Hi, my name is Miguel and I bring emotional casseroles to people in crisis.”
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Caleb
You could literally say that and she’d probably love you.
You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel like you have to because of me.
Miguel
I want to, pretty boy. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna complain about it like a man.
Caleb
Gender equality means you’re allowed to whine.
Text me after? Even if it’s just “didn’t die.”
Miguel
Deal. Go learn things. No talking shit to the professor.
Caleb
Can’t make promises I won’t keep.
I tuck the phone away and drag a hand down my face.
“Yo, Veracruz,” Benny calls. “You fall in love with that stud bay or what?”
“Yeah, it spoke to my soul,” I say, grabbing my drill. “Said, ‘please save me from whoever wired me in 1978.’”
