I went home with the thought nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn't tell whether it would be worth it, so I spent the evening pining in bed while the setting sun splayed an array of colours on the wall before darkness settled as Jellybean laid next to me, purring softly at every stroke of her fur.

My eyelids were halfway shut when my phone pinged, jolting me awake and scaring away any feeling of sleep. Jellybean didn't like the sound as she hopped off the bed with a startled hiss. I couldn't blame her, I didn't like the message that came with it either.

Parks: did you enjoy the movie?

Movie? Oh, right. Parker was supposed to hang out with Mystery. I guessed Isabella got to, and they went out to watch a movie. Or maybe they stayed in? Maybe she went to his house, and they had Netflix on as a background sound while they---no. I didn't need to think about that. But then why else would he ask if she enjoyed it? That sounded like code for something they did. Oh God.

Under the weight of those thoughts and the crippling fear of whatever undertone the text might have held, I took the high road and typed a reply I figured was the best response. If I would enjoy watching a movie with Parker, Isabella might too.

Me: Yeah.

Parks: cools! are you home?

That meant they went out, right? They didn't stay in and do anything aside from watching a movie. Or maybe they stayed inside---at Parker's. And maybe he was asking this because she would obviously leave after? Ugh, the longer I thought, the worse the options appeared.

Me: Just got here.

Parks: oh ok. did your dad complain or anything?

Me: No, actually. He even said to tell you thank you.

I found the last message I sent stupid. Thank him for what? And I felt Parker found it just as stupid, or even weird, because the text was marked as seen for a long time.

Waiting for a reply was agonising, because Parker didn't send another message immediately. Text bubbles popped up and disappeared after a while, only to pop up again and then melt into a blank whiteness.

Parks is typing...

More like Parks was typing and erasing and deleting and typing and erasing. More like Adrian was going to have a heart attack if Parks didn't type faster.

Even more like Adrian was going to definitely die after Park's finally finished typing.

Parks: youre not the girl i went on a date with, are you?

Cue the part where my heart raced wildly and my life---mainly memories of that morning---flashed before my eyes as I clutched my chest and succumbed to the white light, with Jellybean as the only witness.

It was a miracle I was able to text back.

Me: Um, why do you ask?

Parks: because i took her to her front door myself. and she mentioned her parents divorced so she lives with just her mom

Me: Oh...

Parks: Mystery were you even there when i searched for you this morning?

Me: I was there.

Parks: then why did you stay away?

Me: You might reject me.

Parks: i didn't reject Isabella, did i?

Me: She's Isabella, not me.

Parks: God, why do you think I'll reject you if i know who you are?

Me: Because you probably will.

Parks: that's bullshit. i won't. you think id go through all the trouble just to ignore you in the end?

He had a point. Still...

Me: Well, no. But you went on a date with her.

Parks: thats because i thought she was you! i suspected it when she didnt have a clue about my marker tattoo even though i told you about it yesterday.

Me: At least you enjoyed the date.

Parks: it was okay. Isabella's cool and all, but its not her im after. its you. and is it okay if i call you though? like right now?