Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

Ding!

I jerk in surprise.

He answered?

Zac: L who?

The moving dots pop at the bottom of the screen.

Zac: Lydia, Leonard? I’m going to need a bit more than that.

I wish I was the kind of girl to make a boy wait twice the time it took him to text her back, but it turns out I’m a reply-in-a-microsecond kind of gal.

Love: It’s Love, dumbass.

Love: Also, bet you don’t even know a guy named Leonard.

To my pleasant surprise, he texts back as quickly as I did.

Zac: I could.

Love: But you don’t.

Zac: But I could.

Love: Still don’t.

Zac: Fine, I don’t.

Zac: But at least I’m not an awful texter.

I can’t contain a smile.

Shots fired.

Love: Yeah… sorry about that.

Zac: About time, L. I was growing old over here.

Love: Aw, were you hurt that I didn’t text you?

Zac: Hell no. With that said, I may have gone and checked if you’d left another letter in the book this week…

I crack a laugh.

I went and checked the book, too. What can I say? I got used to our banter over the past two weeks.

Love: Want to know a secret?

Zac: Shoot.

Love: I almost didn’t text you.

Zac: Why?

Love: It’s going to sound stupid, but I was scared you were going to ask around about my number. Like try to figure out if people have it in their phones to trace it back to me.

A few minutes pass.