Right Number, Wrong Girl

CAMILLA: Oh no you got eaten by a cow didn’t you

CAMILLA: SOPHIEEEEEEE

CAMILLA: I’m going to call the police.

I’m sorry.

Messages.

Emphasis on the plural.

There were a ton more.

ME: Sorry. I got distracted.

I was quite surprised by her immediate response.

CAMILLA: OF COURSE YOU DID. Did you get there ok? Was there any problem checking in?

ME: Yes, it’s all fine. Nora was really kind. I’m getting food now.

CAMILLA: Okok. Good. I haven’t had an email back from Nancy so you might have to explain the situation when you get there tomorrow.

ME: WHAT?

CAMILLA: I don’t have signal. I can’t call. I’ve tried.

Right.

We were on WhatsApp. That used the internet.

Not to sound like a grouchy grandma, but there were too many apps on my phone that all did the same thing.

ME: Right. Ok. I guess I can do that.

CAMILLA: Thank you. Soph you’re amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

ME: Maybe we wait until I’ve gone there and see how that goes before you start singing my praises.

“Here you go.” Cait set an old, leather-bound menu in front of me on the table with a smile. “Everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah, just catching up with my best friend.” I returned her smile. “Who was that guy at the bar?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Hugo?”

I cleared my throat. “I heard him asking who I was.”

“Oh, right.” She laughed. “Ignore him.”

“Are you…” I motioned awkwardly with my hand.

Cait stared at me for a moment. “Are we… Oh.” She ran her tongue over her lips, pursed them, then fought a smile. “No. We’ve been friends for a while. Uh… he’s not my type.”

I stared at her.

Literally how?

Wasn’t tall, dark, and handsome most women’s type?