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“Great idea.” I fully trust Ophelia. How can I not? She only snuck the phone to make sure her family was safe. I can’t fault her for that. She never truly betrayed my trust in her.
She types her messages in, one painstaking line at a time. It’s funny watching someone younger than me struggle so badly with old tech. I ease my elbow onto the dark wood pub table, leaning my head against my palm, grinning as I watch.
Mom its me
This wasn’t a hotel number
Is a cell they gave me
I just didn’t want u blowing me up
She exhales, staring at her work. “Okay, that’s all true so far.”
“You don’t like to lie, do you?” I ask.
Her face crumples. “No. I hate deceit.”
Even more trust for her grows. “Good,” I say. “That’s good.”
Holding the phone, she raises her sneakered feet onto the balls of her feet, and her knee bobs up and down from nerves as she waits for a response. “I hope she texts back. I mean, she always texts back right away.”
I put a reassuring hand on her knee to calm her. “We have time.”
The phone dings.
“Wow. It’s her!” She scoots her chair away from the table. “Come here, bring your chair beside me so we can read these together.”
I follow her orders, moving my chair beside her. Our arms press together as we stare at the phone as her mom’s answer comes through.
Hi! How are you?
How many boys have you kissed?
“What is she asking that for?” I demand.
Ophelia shakes her head, muttering, “Just ignore her.” Now, having some practice, her thumbs fly over the tiny keypad, typing her message.
How’s everyone at home
Her mom answers.
All good! I miss you!
Ophelia pauses a moment, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Then, she types.
Me too!
Any word on who sent those messages
Our arms press together tighter, waiting for a response.
I still don’t know who catfished him
But I finally hacked into the account
I read the messages
I think its someone from your school