Page 35 of Raspados & Regret

Do not.

Do not.

I tap “follow,” and the account is public, so it happens immediately.

No request, just me, ruining my own life in real time.

The button changes to the grayed-out “Following.”

I stare at it, horrified with myself, and then my phone buzzes. A notification for @fabi.sin.filtro

@lalo.con.limón followed you back

My heart stops. Oh my fucking God, he was online the whole time. He saw it. The bathroom walls narrow, and another notification drops.

A message request from @lalo.con.limón

I open it.

lalo.con.limón

Took you long enough, crop top.

I stare at the message and my face goes hot all over again, but this time it has nowhere to go.

He knows. He fucking knows.

Nah, he doesn’t know what I just did. Unless the universe hates me more than I thought.

But he knows I looked.

He knows I searched.

He knows I followed him, and here he is already running his mouth. My thumbs hover over the keyboard, and then I start typing.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

Don’t flatter yourself.

Delete it.

Sounds too weak.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

Business research.

Delete it.

Too stupid.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

You always online?

Delete it.

Now you sound too interested.