by Danyelle Hershkopf
**This work is one of two parallel pieces. To read the other, click here.**
Hi.
I look at the words in the green box before typing back, Sup?
Not much. U?
I’m reading a book, so I admit that.
No reply. Two minutes pass. Ten. Did I come off as too harsh? Did I seem dismissive? I didn’t mean to. Maybe I should add a joke or maybe you’re in the bathroom or you’re doing something please be doing something plea—
Oooh, which one?
Ok, answer. But if I answer immediately, will it look like I’ve been checking my phone all this time? Don’t wanna look desperate for your attention. Lemme wait five minutes.
Or maybe three.
The Odyssey.
Oooh, I sey. Get it?
I laugh. Does lol seem too high school or…? Nah, I’ll write it.
Is it an Od book?
I wish you could actually hear my laugh. Texting that I laughed seems too formal. Like how do you naturally say that? Answer: you can’t.
Maybe I should call…?
Nope nope nope what if that’s way too desperate? What if you think of me more as a “text” friend than a “call” one? And if I call, what do I say? What if I run out of things to say and we hang up, only for me to think of something five seconds later? No, texting is safer. Lemme see what you’re up to.
Looking to find a movie to go see.
I can name one. Maybe we can see one together? But if you wanted to see one with me, you’d say so. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen minutes pass. No added response. No invitation. I can’t just invite myself; that would be like guilting you into going. Or you’d just have to let me down, ‘cause we’re not close enough to actually hang out outside of the time we have no choice but to see each other. And then it will get awkward and we’ll change the subject and pretend like I didn’t just make a fool out of myself.
I hope you find something good to see, I reply.
Thanks.
No prob.
