28
JESSA
Chris declined my first six calls. The rest he just ignored. At one point, he’d actually started typing in our message thread. I watched the three typing dots appear briefly. But no text ever came.
He’s not online anymore, but I’m sure he’s still got his phone in his hand. And since he’s being stubborn, I decide my only option is to be relentless.
I know you’re mad. And I understand why, but we can’t just give up on each other, Chris,I text.
Please pick up your phone. I’ve called you a dozen times.
14 actually. I just checked.
I know you don’t agree with my choices. You’re hurt and angry. I get it. You can be hurt and angry. Just don’t stop talking to me. And don’t stop being my friend.
Chris, please.
Chris.
Chris?
No response.
I take a deep breath and decide to just address the elephant in the room. Ignoring it would be disrespectful to how honest he was with me.
I start typing something out. Listen, Chris, about what you told me… about how you feel about me… I don’t want you to think that there might have been hope for us if Anton weren’t in the picture.
I read it back and wince. That sounds way too harsh. So I delete it and start over.
I want to thank you for being honest with me about your feelings for—
No. Condescending.
Unrequited love is hard.
Fuck no. What am I, a fortune cookie?
I wish you weren’t hurting right now.
Delete. Stop pandering.
One more try. C’mon. I need to get my shit together.
I know you need space, Chris. But give me one conversation. Just one chance to explain things again. And if you still don’t want to see or speak to me, I’ll respect that.
I read it about a thousand times in a row. Then, before I can chicken out, I hit send. A few seconds later, Chris appears online, and I almost drop my phone.
The typing dots appear and I wait with bated breath. Then they disappear and Chris goes back offline.
“Damn it,” I mutter.
“Something wrong?” Anton asks as he walks into the living room.
I hug my legs to my chest. “Chris isn’t returning my calls or answering my texts.”
“Give him space.”
“The last time I did that, we didn’t talk for six months,” I say. “I don’t want to let that happen. I promised him that would never happen again.”