Chapter One
____________
Cami
I’ve been thinking about you today.
Gee, that must be nice, to have someone think about you during the day. I wouldn't know because unfortunately, the text message I just got is not for me. I don't even know if it's a man who is on the other side and that's the way I swing. Still, even if it is a female sending the message it's stupid sweet and something I kind of yearn for.
I didn't have a great home life growing up due to family fighting. I have no idea why my mom and dad stay together when all they do is drink themselves to death and end up beating the hell out of each other. Not that it ever spilled over onto me - they more or less just ignored and neglected me so I guess I have that to be thankful for.
I debate whether or not to reply and tell the person I'm not who they think I am but in the end I get busy with school and forget about the text until I receive another one from the same number the next day.
I'm still thinking of you.
Shit, I am totally going to have to tell this person I'm not whoever they think I am. I decide to finish what I’m doing first but I put it off so long that I actually forget again and then, I get the picture. And a lot of questions I had about this person are answered. My phone dings and when I open up the text message I am staring at a picture of a very large, very hard cock. My cheeks burn as I hold the phone close to my chest. There’s no one in the room with me but I still feel like I need to hide the picture.
Sent. I hope you like what you see.
Oh. My. God! I immediately text back this time. I've let this go on for way too long if I'm getting a dick pic.
I think you might have sent that to the wrong number because I'm not whoever you're trying to reach. I'm sorry.
Why the hell am I apologizing? I'm the one who had their eyeballs molested even if it is a pretty good-looking member. There is a long pause and I am about to lay my phone back down when I see the little bubble pop up that tells me whoever is on the other end is typing something back. It takes another five minutes.
Fuck! I am so sorry. And embarrassed as fuck. Tell me you aren't a twelve-year-old kid walking around with a picture of my dick on your phone! Please tell me you aren't that.
The corners of my mouth tilt up. This wasn't the response I thought I would get.
I'm not. I'm actually eighteen so no need to worry about it.
More typing bubbles.
Well thank God for that. I am so sorry. I thought...never mind what I thought I'm sorry.
Clearly you thought I was someone else. I've got the other texts you sent over the last two days.
I feel so bad about not telling this guy that I wasn't the person he thought I was sooner. Guilt has me typing more.
It is totally my fault for not telling you sooner. I'm sorry.
I just sent you a dick pic, I'm pretty sure I should be the one apologizing.
No worries. I understand it's an accident but maybe you should be sure who you’re actually texting next time you decide to send something so personal. Not to mention I don't think you're really supposed to send anyone pictures like that over a text message.
I keep typing and deleting trying to figure out what to say next. God, I sound so preachy. I watch the bubbles float and then stop altogether. I don't get another text. Wonderful. Now someone thinks I'm a judgmental asshole who is looking down on them for making a mistake.
I throw my phone down and groan. I don't have the right to judge anyone. I'm an eighteen-year-old girl who’s barely getting by. I'm living in a tiny apartment with five other girls. Most days it's ramen for lunch, dinner, and snack. I check my phone for messages again and scroll through our conversation. This is the most I've actually talked to another person since I moved to town if that isn't the saddest thing ever. My eyes land on the infamous picture again. I don't have anything to judge by but his hand looks pretty big in the picture and his dick is even bigger. I blush and clear my screen again. I'm getting way too lonely if I'm swooning over a dick pic that might not even be the person on the other end of the phone. I pull up the dating app I’ve been looking at for the last few days.
"Hey girl, what's up?"
"Nothing much." I shove my phone behind me and sit up to talk to the girl who shares the room with me. "How did work go?"
I don't know her very well but I'm trying to be social. She's much louder and more outgoing than I am. I'm shy and nerdy with round glasses and too many freckles to be considered sexy. I'm more...cute - like a kitten, and unfortunately, since boys don't really dig kittens I'm not getting a lot of face-to-face time with the opposite sex. I spend the next few minutes listening to her complain about her office job and tell me about the new show she watched last night with her boyfriend. I start nibbling my bottom lip thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to share a tv show with. God, I'm so lonely and sad.
"Hey, did you say you met your boyfriend on a dating app?"