It feels weird not seeing you every day. I repeated the words over and over in my head as I sat in the car again. What did they mean? Was it just what it sounded like, and Duncan missed seeing me at school or was there more to it than that? It could be just completely normal. Something a friend says to another friend. I mean, I missed seeing Phoebe. I missed seeing Duncan too, but…

It felt like more than that. It seemed flirtatious, romantic almost. But, I could have been just reading too much into it. I probably was. I mean, even if he meant it in a flirtatious way, it might not mean anything. He probably said that to people all the time. He was a social person; he just liked being around people.

I didn’t know how to respond. How was I meant to respond? Should I flirt? No, that felt wrong. What would I even say if I wanted to? I didn’t flirt. I had no experience. Even if I didn’t want to flirt, what could I say?

I unlocked my phone again, my eyes darting up to make sure that my mom wasn’t looking at me before returning to the screen. It feels weird not seeing you every day. That was a flirtatious thing to say, wasn’t it? I just didn’t know. I needed to ask someone else; I needed Phoebe’s input.

I tapped on the screen, finding Phoebe’s last barely readable messages, before starting to type a message to her. I started it and deleted it about ten times before finally just giving up and sending it anyway.

I need your help, I wrote, following it up with another message. Am I reading into this or is this… you know… weird?

I quickly took a screenshot of Duncan’s message and sent that too, before deleting the picture. I didn’t think my mom would demand to see my pictures, but, if she did, at least she wouldn’t see that. I checked my messages once more before locking my phone and looking up.

“I mean, a divorce,” Mom cried, her tone too amused. “Can you imagine? Ryan always was out of Sophie’s league, but I never thought he’d cheat on her. And with Alice?”

I winced at the name. Alice was the name I had given myself when I was with Mitch. She was the bratty persona I felt so bad using.

“Who’s Alice?” I asked quickly, trying to distract my mom just in case she had seen my reaction.

“Some girl seven years younger than Sophie. It’s bad enough that he’s leaving her, but for someone so much younger?” she continued without hesitation, revealing in the gossip. “I mean, I don’t know how she can even leave her house!”

I didn’t reply to that. There was no need. Plus, it didn’t matter. My mom would continue talking about Sophie and enjoying her misfortune even if I didn’t speak. I felt bad for Sophie. The more Mom continued, the worse I felt.

She had clearly confided in my mom, which felt like a mistake. It was an understandable one though. My mom had painted the perfect picture of someone who was worried about her friend and wanted to know all the details to better support them but that’s not what she was doing. I knew she was going to tell everyone every single word that Sophie had told her.

My phone buzzed just as Mom laughed again.

Ummmm what is this? Phoebe had texted. What is going on with you two?

I don’t know, I replied. Did you see the other message?

Which one? Phoebe sent back immediately.

I scrolled up, checking the screenshot that I’d sent. It had caught the end of the text that I’d meant but not the whole thing. I glanced at Mom out of the corner of my eye before quickly taking another screenshot and including the whole text that time.

Date??? Phoebe sent back immediately. You two have a date scheduled???

I read the message from Duncan again. He’d used the term date when he mentioned hanging out and playing video games but…

Yeah but… does he mean it like that though? Or am I being dumb? I mean, Duncan is a flirt, right? I sent back.

The three dots immediately appeared on my screen as Phoebe started to type.

Yeah, you are being dumb. He’s clearly into you!! What are you going to say back to him? Wait, are you into him? Or is he just a friend?? she’d said.

I didn’t know how to answer her. I almost didn’t want to. I hadn’t actually admitted how I felt about him to anyone, not even myself, so the idea of saying it or writing it down felt… terrifying.

He’s one of my best friends, I said. I’ve known him basically forever.

Okay….? her message read.

Plus, he’s popular. He could date anyone.

… was all she typed that time. It didn’t matter though. I was still typing.

I needed to explain myself, to justify how I was feeling. She wasn’t judging me, Phoebe never would, it was more that I felt I needed to justify it to myself.

I don’t think he is into me. Like, I don’t think there’s anything more to what he’s saying, you know? I typed.

That’s not what I asked… she sent back.

I almost dropped my phone in frustration and let out an almost silent sigh that was immediately drowned out by my mom’s continued ramblings. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to tell anyone how I felt about him; it was too scary.

I stared down at my phone, my fingers twitching as I tried to work out how to answer her. She wasn’t going to drop it, and I knew it. She wanted me to answer her question, even though she clearly seemed to know how I felt about him already, so there was no real point.

I don’t know.

It was almost the truth. I didn’t. Or, at least, I hadn’t admitted it to myself, and I probably wouldn’t. If he was into me, if he wasn’t just flirting because that’s how he talked, I would go from there. He could make the first move. If he did or said something that made it obvious that he liked me as more than just a friend, then I’d know, and I’d allow myself to actually consider how I felt about him properly. But, until then, I refused.

It was the safest way. It meant he wouldn’t reject me. I could just continue to be his friend and not think about it any more than that. It would be fine; I’d be fine.

Mkay, Phoebe replied. I think it’s flirty. And I think you should flirt back. Say something like you can’t wait to see him again!

I grimaced without meaning to before glancing at Mom to make sure that she hadn’t seen.

“Exactly!” she cried. “I mean, an accountant!”

She clearly thought I had reacted to whatever she was talking about, and I made a vague noise of agreement so that she’d think I was actually listening to her.

I’m not sending that, I sent back. It’s too… much, you know? I don’t want it to be so obvious but what else can I say??

Why not? I don’t think it’s that bad! Phoebe wrote back before adding. What do you want to say then?

That was part of the issue. I just wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to make it clear that I was into him or saw him as anything more than a friend, which I didn’t, but I also didn’t want to discourage him.

It didn’t matter though. My deliberating was brought to an end by another message from Phoebe.

I know! Why don’t you say something that will make him like say more? Like, something that will make him clarify if he means it romantically or not?

That seemed like a good idea. It would help, at least. But I couldn’t think of what to say that would do that.

Yeah, that sounds good but… what should I say?? I sent to Phoebe.

The three dots appeared and disappeared a couple of times as I watched anxiously, trying to come up with something to say as well. She was just better at it than I was. She’d never really had a boyfriend either, except for a few short-lived romances on holidays, but she was great at flirting. She enjoyed it.

I think I did too. It was difficult for me. I didn’t have enough experience to actually know, but I felt like if I had the chance to do it more, I’d like it. Maybe I would get the chance. If we could think of something that made it obvious that Duncan was flirting with me, then I could flirt back.

I’ve got it! Why don’t you say something like ‘yeah, I miss seeing everyone at school too’? Then, he can just be like ‘oh yeah, I miss school’ if that’s what he meant or he can say something about you specifically, you know? Phoebe wrote.

I nodded silently. That would work. I could definitely say something like that.

That’s perfect, I typed.

Let me know what he says?? she replied immediately.

I found Duncan’s message again and read it once more, before taking a deep breath and glancing at my mom. She was still talking, somehow. She’d moved on from just talking about Sophie’s soon-to-be ex-husband and was now talking about her inability to have children, which made me fight to keep the glare off of my face. She was just being mean. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised, exactly, but I was.

Ignoring her again, I looked down at my phone.

Yeah, it feels weird not going to school every day, I typed and hit send before I could chicken out.

I read the message again and again, trying to work out how he would respond to it. It seemed like an innocent enough message, but what if it made him think that I wasn’t into him? Panic started to build in me. Had I just made a mistake? I wasn’t sure, but now I felt like I had. Maybe I should have just agreed with what he had said or something. That would have been fine. He could still read into that however he wanted, and perhaps he would have still responded how I wanted him to.

The three dots popped up again, making my heart race. Duncan was typing. Impatience shot through me, and I stared at my phone as I waited anxiously to see what he would say. He was taking so long though; that wasn’t normal. He normally was so quick to reply.

The car jolted to a stop before his text came through, and I quickly looked up at my mom. She had finally finished talking, but luckily, she wasn’t looking at me. She was focusing on removing her keys from the engine. I scrabbled to lock my phone and get out of the car, trying to look as normal as possible and not like I was panicking over a text that might come through at any second.

She marched across the drive ahead of me, and I glanced at my phone once more before slipping it into my pocket. I couldn’t check it around her. I didn’t want her to demand to see what he had sent me again. It had happened too many times before, but this might be the first time it was something worth hiding.

Right as she pushed the door open, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. My hand flew to it immediately, but I fought the urge to do anything other than touch it through my clothing.

Mom turned and looked at me, her expression confused.

“Are you not bringing the shopping in?”

She hadn’t asked me to, but she normally just assumed that I would do it for her. It didn’t even occur to me though. I was too distracted by the text.

“Oh,” I said, trying not to jump as my phone buzzed again. “Yeah… I just need to run to the bathroom first.”

It was a lie, but it would work. I could hide in the toilet and read the messages, then come out and help her.

Irritation crossed her face.

“Can’t you wait?” she asked, but it was more of a demand.

Normally, I would have done as she wanted so that she didn’t get annoyed with me, but I just didn’t want to. I would take five minutes, if that, to go to the bathroom and text Duncan or Phoebe back. She could wait that long.

“No, actually,” I said with a polite smile. “I think I drank too much water at breakfast.”

I didn’t wait for her response. I just slipped my shoes off and walked past her. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds before shouting down the corridor after me.

“Don’t take too long,” she warned me. “I’m leaving the door open, and the flies will get in.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond. She didn’t have to leave the door open or wait for me, and the urge to say that was almost overpowering. She could have just taken the shopping in herself, but I knew she wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure why. She did it if she went shopping when I was at school, but the moment I was home, she refused.

She said it was one of my chores, because I barely did anything around the house. That was stupid though. She was the one who didn’t do anything. I cooked for myself almost every day, did my own washing, kept my room tidy and more. She didn’t do any of that for me, and we had a cleaner who did the rest. She just went shopping. But there was no point in saying that to her. She would just get annoyed, and I couldn’t be bothered to fight with her, even though it was kind of tempting.

I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind myself before pulling the curtains across the window. I wasn’t sure why the bathroom had such a big window or why it was so low, but without closing the curtain, anyone who was outside would be able to see straight into the room. It wouldn’t surprise me if my mom chose to go for a walk or a cigarette, just to check and make sure I wasn’t hiding anything.

The faint creak of the floorboards came from outside the door, and I hurried to sit on the toilet as I pulled my phone out. There were two messages, one from Phoebe asking for an update, and the other was from Duncan.

It was a short message and one that didn’t help clarify anything. I took another screenshot and sent it to Phoebe. I finished using the toilet and washed my hands, whilst waiting for her response.

Yeah, that too???? she’d sent, copying his message. What does that mean??

No clue, I replied. So he misses school as well??

As well as what though? You, I think?? she said.

I bit my lip. Was that what he meant? Because that felt like it was definitely romantic. Could I ask him about that? I wanted to see him say it, not to hint at it. But then, that didn’t feel like flirting. It was too direct.

I don’t know, what should I say? I sent back.

Just send back ‘that too?’ and see what he says! Phoebe encouraged.

A frown came over my face as I read her text. It didn’t seem that bad, not really. It could kind of be seen as flirting, I thought. He could still play it off as a joke or explain that he meant something else.

Urgh, I guess but I hate this, I sent her. Why don’t people just say what they mean??

I didn’t wait for her response. I couldn’t. I’d been in the bathroom too long, and my mom would be getting even more suspicious of me than she already was. I clicked over to Duncan’s message again and typed the response that Phoebe had suggested.

Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as I put my phone into my pocket again and unlocked the bathroom door. A soft patter of footsteps sounded, probably my mom running into the kitchen so that she could pretend she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on me, but I ignored it and walked towards the front door.

I barely paid any attention to what I was doing as I left the house and began picking up the bags of shopping, focusing on the feeling of my phone in my pocket and just waiting for it to buzz again. We’d bought too much; I’d need to make two trips, I realised as I lifted as many bags as I could carry out of the boot and started walking towards the house again. I was halfway there when my phone buzzed, but I knew I couldn’t stop. I’d need to drop everything in the kitchen by the fridge before I could go back out to the car and check my phone again.

My mom was sitting at the table when I reached the kitchen, pretending to read her book. She didn’t even look up at me as I crossed the room and dropped the bags on the floor by the fridge before turning and leaving again. My heart raced as I hurried back to the car, making sure that I was hidden by the boot before grabbing my phone.

It slipped in my sweat-slicked hands, but I unlocked it quickly and stared at Duncan’s message. My mouth fell open as I read the message again.

Yeah, he’d said. I miss you.

I hadn’t expected that. It felt so forwards and unlike him. That realisation made me hesitate. Maybe it wasn’t him. One of his friends could have stolen his phone and was texting me as a joke. Suspicion started to prickle in me. What could I do about that? I didn’t want to say that I missed him too, only for it to be a joke and then Duncan to feel bad about my response.

Ahaha is this Sam? I sent back quickly, immediately feeling bad.

If it wasn’t him, was it a mean thing to say?

No! came his response. It’s me!

I hesitated again. The texts read like his normally did, but I wasn’t sure. They did feel a little off. It could be someone else.

I started to type a reply before deleting it again and pausing, trying to work out how to be sure.

I promise, he added. Want me to prove it to you or something?

Part of me wanted to just believe him, but I didn’t trust his friends. They were all nice enough, but some could be mean sometimes. He called them out on it when he saw it, but… I just wasn’t sure.

Sure, I wrote, trying to convince myself that it was an okay thing to say.

It was still flirty, kind of.

Okay, how? was his immediate response.

I bit my lip again. I hadn’t thought that far ahead, and now I was stumped. How would anyone prove it?

I don’t know, I typed. Send me a picture or something?

As soon as I hit send, I realised that the message could be read badly. It sounded kind of like I was asking for a picture of…

I mean, I’ll be honest. I haven’t bothered to put a shirt on yet, his message read.

I felt my face flush and started to type ‘Oh, don’t worry then’, but the picture came through before I could send it. Or maybe I’d hesitated for a little too long before hitting send, just to see what would happen.

I swallowed and glanced around to make sure my mom hadn’t snuck out or was watching me through the windows, but they were empty. I clicked on the picture and bit my lip.

He was sitting on the sofa, his PlayStation controller on his lap, and, like he’d said, he was topless. And he looked good. I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the photo, but another text from him came through.

Did that help? he asked. If not, I can always go hunt down some paper to make a sign like the hostage had in that weird game we played.

I snorted softly at his message, remembering the video game immediately. That had been weird.

But the picture seemed like it had just been taken. I recognised his den, and sunlight was creeping in around the curtains that he hadn’t opened. It wasn’t a trick. I was almost certain.

Oh ha ha. No, you don’t need to do that, I sent back and hesitated before typing, I miss you too.