Page 46 of Sexting the Pakhan

A laugh escapes me. It breaks halfway and turns into something close to a sob.

Ruslan looks at me.

I turn away because I don’t want him to see my face do whatever it’s doing.

Me:I know. I know how it sounds. But if you call right now it could make things worse.

Karina:Worse HOW?

I can’t answer that. Not fully. Not truthfully. So I give her the smallest piece I can.

Me:The people who did it might still be looking.

The typing bubble stops.

For several seconds, nothing.

Then:Looking for you?

I look at Ruslan. He watches me in silence.

I type:Maybe.

Karina:Oh my God.

Me:I’m sorry.

Karina:Why are YOU sorry?

Because I walked over to him.

Because I noticed him for months.

Because some stupid part of me was happy to see him in the aisle.

Because five minutes before the shooting, I was thinking about his mouth and his voice and how embarrassing it was that I knew he usually came on Thursdays.

Because last night I was in bed touching myself to a stranger’s texts, and somehow today has become so much worse and more impossible than anything I know how to survive.

Me:I don’t know.

Karina:Tell me what you need.

That breaks me a little. Not all the way. Just enough that tears finally blur my screen.

Me:Go somewhere public. Please. Don’t go home alone. Don’t go to the library. Don’t tell my mom yet.

Karina:Your mom is going to kill me if I don’t tell her.

Me:I’ll tell her. Just not yet.

Karina:Zoya.

Me:Please.

Another pause.

Then:I’m going to Nina’s café. It’s crowded. I’ll stay there.