26
Marcus
My phone pings at 2:49 a.m. on Thursday, waking me up less than two hours after I got home from work. Cursing, I pick it up—and see that it’s a text message.
From Emma.
I’m instantly awake, my entire body buzzing with adrenaline as I jackknife to a sitting position and swipe across the screen.
Hey…
That’s all the message says.
I throw off my blanket and turn on the light. I can see the three dots dancing on the screen, telling me that Emma is about to send a second message.
Hey… do you want to come over?
Hey… I’ve missed you.
Hey… so I realize I’ve made a mistake.
Hey… what are you doing tonight?
The possibilities are endless, and I’m f*****g dying to see what she’s going to say.
The three dots disappear, as if she’s stopped typing and deleted her message. Five secon
