told her to stay put and, one second later, Ranger, who we now know as Wyatt Dalton, charged toward her and asked her if she was okay before she planted a kiss on his bloodied lips.
I went on to tell her that it was completely unsanitary to kiss a rando who was bleeding and that she had no idea if he had any diseases that could be transmitted through bodily fluids and that it was totally illegal, to which she replied:
- Okay … Kiki
Again, I apologize.
When little bit Brisa pops up on my screen, a conversation cloud above her head, I watch the jumping dots for a second before getting:
- Unsanitary, illegal, or otherwise, that kiss saved our asses.
She then goes on to send Snap after Snap in great detail about how she:
- Got an airdrop message from Ranger with his number, while you were piggybacking as we left the warehouse.
- I didn’t reply because I read somewhere to leave them hanging, no matter how excited I am to reply so they don’t think I’m clingy or desperate.
- We’d been texting for hours, leading up to my life being ruined.
- By answering his questions with all kinds of lies.
Bit Brisa peering up at me without clouds or dots above her head, I tap out:
- What do you mean all kinds of lies?
Bit Brisa and the cloud appear immediately, while I ignore notification after notification from Kiki.
- Age, last name … You know, just little white lies.
I start to type back that they aren’t really white lies when her next Snap comes up.
- He blocked me before I could explain after the ‘Last Supper’ of Steel Sundays.
My response to her uber-dramatic Snap:
- Last Supper?!? A little dramatic, don’t you think? We got off easy, don’t you think?
She comes back immediately with:
- My heart is broken, my soul lost. He was my one true love, I just know it! I’ll die now, never knowing what it’s like to connect body and soul with the man that God made just for me.
I start to tap out a response, considering her feelings and the fact that this was partially my fault for putting her in the situation, but when bit Brisa, the conversation cloud, and dots appear, I delete it.
- Don’t take this away from me. Don’t tell me there are more fish in the sea or something lame like that. I know my heart, and I know I unequivocally am in love with Wyatt Dalton and will be for the rest of my life.
Jesus, Brisa, you are not even sixteen, is what I want to reply, but another Snap comes in.
I open the picture and see a heavily filtered Brisa crying with rain pouring down the screen.
I reply with the only thing I can:
- If it’s meant to be, it will be when the time is right.
I jump back on the Kiki chat to tell her we will be more careful, that I will see her in the morning, and that I love her.
I receive a notification from Brisa next.
It’s a portrait of sorts, albeit a photoshopped portrait, of her merged with a screenshot that she must have taken from Convicted Ink’s website of Ranger, and yes, added a manbun to his then short hair, along with a dog and three kids.
I am so glad we aren’t FaceTiming right now, because I can’t stop laughing at it. God Bless her, I know she actually thinks she is in love with Manbun.
As if my to-do list in life isn’t long enough, and me figuring out what it is I want to do with my life now that dance has a big-ass X over it, I am determined to add searching for an unbloodied, appropriately aged, non-felon with a manbun on the top.
A knock on the door has me looking up.
Mom peeks in, holding a fresh compress.
“Come on in. Just need to say goodnight to the girls.”
“Is Brisa okay?” she asks, pulling the blanket off my ankle, removing the now room temperature compress, and replacing it with the cold one.
I nod as I exit out of the app, lean over, and set my phone on the charging pad. “Yeah, seems so,” I blatantly lie to my mother for possibly the first time in my life.
“Okay, then.” She looks at me with concern as she pushes my hair out of my face, kisses my forehead, and whispers sadly, “I love you, Truth.”
She turns to walk out, and I feel guilt constrict my heart.
“Why do you ask?”
She