THE SUN STREAMED IN Delilah’s bay window the next morning, caressing me awake. The TV hummed from the movie we fell asleep watching while the alarm on Delilah’s phone blared.
“Oh no, I’m going to be late!” She jumped up from the couch and ran to the shower. I chuckled to myself and reached for my cell on the other side of Delilah’s pillow. She kept it from me all night.
“Rats,” I hit the Power button, but the screen stayed black.
It was dead as can be. I padded to the spare bedroom where I should’ve been sleeping and plugged it in. The screen powered on, and it promptly dinged with incoming messages. One voicemail from my mother. A groan and an eye roll. I needed coffee before I tackled that one. Then, several text messages beeped through. Scrolling through them, there was one from Pete
