Page 56 of Secrets and Lies
West: I’m tired and my brain hurts from thinking so much
Anthony: you should go to bed
West: yeah
West: maybe I can wake up in a timeline where my entire life hasn’t imploded
Anthony: your life hasn’t imploded
West: you sure about that?
Anthony: your relationship did, not your life
West: they feel like the same thing rn
West: words are getting harder
Anthony: because you’re drunk and tired
West: yeah
Anthony: go to bed West
West: okay
I drain the rest of my beer while I wait to see if another text comes through. When nothing does, I exit out of the app and slip my phone away.
I don’t know why I like it so much that West texted me as soon as he was back in his room, and that he kept the conversation going again. Of course he has no idea that it’s me he’s talking to, but that doesn’t change the fact that he keeps texting me.
This started out as a way to fuck with him, but it’s becoming so much more. And I wasn’t lying to him.
I don’t like a lot of people, but there’s something about West that’s drawn me to him for the past three years. That means something. I’m not sure exactly what, but if he’s willing to tell a stranger that he wants to get fucked, then I’m going to make sure I’m the one who does the fucking.
And I’m going to make damn sure it’s a night that neither of us will ever forget.
10
WEST
I wantnothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole as I scroll through my text exchange with my mystery texter.
I don’t remember a lot about last night, not after Damon dragged me out of that party like a kid who broke curfew, but my text logs have filled in the blanks for me.
Just like last time, I texted him first, and I’m the one who kept the conversation going. I also told him I’m bi and that he turns me on with zero prompting from him, and I can’t even blame the beers I chugged.
Alcohol isn’t a truth serum for me like it is for a lot of people. Instead of getting more talkative and completely losing my filter when I drink, I get quieter because it’s one of the few times my head gets quiet.
But that didn’t happen last night. I have no idea why.
Whoever I’ve been talking to goes to Silvercrest. He lives on the same campus as me, and according to him, we know each other. He could literally be anyone, and my first instinct was to drunk text him and spill my guts when I have no idea who he is or what he wants from me.
I pause scrolling and reread a portion of the conversation for what feels like the tenth time.
Unknown: I’m not a good person
Unknown: but I do have something in common with you
West: what?
