Texting Anonymous

I grab my bag and throw in some extra clothes before checking my phone.

Anonymous: What're you up to?

I smile a little and type back.

Me: About to sleep over at a friend's house.

The response comes fast.

Anonymous: Oh? Who's the lucky friend?

I chuckle and reply:

Me: Kyle. We're just gonna chill. Why? Jealous?

There's a pause before the next message comes in.

Anonymous: Pfft, no. Just wondering who gets the honor of having you all to themselves tonight.

My face heats up a little, and I shake my head.

Me: Dude, you're so dramatic.

"Mom! I'm leaving!" I call out, grabbing my bag and heading toward the door.

"Be good, Stanley!" she yells back.

"I know already," I mumble, stepping outside and heading to my car. My phone buzzes again.

Anonymous: Have fun. Don't miss me too much.

I roll my eyes but smile.

Me: No promises.

I toss my phone in the passenger seat, trying to ignore how much I actually will be thinking about them.

I pull up to Kyle's house and park in the driveway. The lights inside are on, and I can hear Ike yelling about something through the window.

Typical.

Grabbing my bag, I step out of the car and walk up to the door, knocking a couple of times. A few seconds later, Kyle opens it, looking slightly disheveled.

"Dude, finally," he says, stepping aside so I can come in. "Ike's been bouncing off the walls, and my mom keeps asking if we need any 'fun snacks.'"

I shrug. "I mean, snacks don't sound bad."

Kyle rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but her idea of a 'fun snack' is hummus and celery sticks."

I laugh and set my bag down near the couch. "So, what's the plan? Video games? Movies? Talking shit about people?"

Kyle flops down onto the couch. "All of the above. But first, let's order pizza because there's no way I'm eating whatever 'fun snacks' my mom has planned."

I nod, pulling out my phone to check if the mystery guy texted me back. Nothing yet. Probably busy.

Kyle notices. "Dude, who are you texting? You've been smiling at your phone a lot lately."

I quickly lock the screen and shake my head. "No one. Just checking something."

Kyle raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Suspicious."

I ignore him and sit down next to him, grabbing a controller. "Just order the pizza, dude."

Kyle keeps eyeing me but finally sighs and pulls out his own phone. "Fine, fine. But I will get to the bottom of this."

I roll my eyes, but honestly? I kinda hope he doesn't.

Later, Kyle takes a huge bite of his pizza, eyes still locked on the game we're playing. "Dude, focus. You're getting your ass kicked."

I barely hear him. My mind is somewhere else—more specifically, on my phone. I check the screen again. Still nothing.

Kyle pauses the game. "Okay, what's up? You've been checking your phone like every two minutes."