Page 15 of Sexting the Pakhan

I laugh helplessly and drop my head for a second.

Karina points at me. “There. That. You like them.”

“I like this conversation.”

“Same difference.”

“It is not.”

“Zoya.”

I look up. She’s smiling, but there’s something gentler in it now. Less teasing. More knowing. “You look happy,” she says.

The words catch me off guard. I glance down at my phone again, at the ridiculous little message thread that shouldn’t matter and somehow does, just a little.

Happy is maybe too big a word for it. But lighter, yes. More awake. Like some quiet part of me I’d tucked away for safekeeping has stretched and looked around.

Before I can answer, my phone buzzes again.

Unknown Number:You went quiet. Did I lose my audience?

Karina makes a strangled noise. “Audience? Oh, this is criminal.”

I bite back a smile and type:No. My friend is live-commenting your personality.

Unknown Number:And the verdict?

I glance at Karina.

She straightens like she’s been invited onto a panel show. “Tell him I said smug. And suspiciously competent.”

“We don’t know that it’s a him.”

Karina throws both hands up. “You’re the one smiling at your phone.”

“That has nothing to do with gender.”

“Mm-hm.”

I look back down and type:Current assessment: smug. Possibly competent. Identity still under review.

There’s a longer pause this time. Long enough that I wonder if I’ve pushed too far.

Then:

Unknown Number:That seems fair. I could say the same about you.

Something twists pleasantly in my chest.

Karina watches me read it and shakes her head. “You’re gone.”

“I’m right here.”

“Physically, yes. Spiritually? You’re halfway into a strangers-to-lovers arc.”

I choke on my drink. “Please stop speaking.”

She laughs, and I laugh too, but I still look down at the phone again almost immediately.