Chapter -6

It had been two days since I last had contact with him… Wow, I didn’t know his name, and I didn’t even know what was an acceptable way to call him.

Nude sender? I laughed a little at that thought.

I stopped focusing on the series that I was watching and started to think about what his name could be. And I reached a moment where I couldn’t take it anymore and just texted him: What is your name?

The reply was quick: My name is whatever you want it to be.

I stared at the text for a few seconds and then rolled my eyes, “Why did I even bother with this?” I muttered to myself before keeping my phone on my side, and continued to watch the series. I had no idea why I was continuing to watch it; the episodes were boring and I was yawning non stop.

And because of how boring the episode was, I couldn’t focus on it at all and my thoughts began to entertain me more than the episode.

I started thinking about him again, and I let out a sigh. The fact that I let a stranger invade my thoughts showed how chronically alone I was. I didn’t talk to many people, and the only one who listened to my ramblings was Ashley. And I loved her, and I adored her but I do believe that sometimes we do need to go out and interact with different people.

“That doesn’t mean, I must talk to a stranger,” I muttered to myself dryly. But my fingers were itching to ask him if he had found the perfect gift for his little sister. My focus had shifted from his name to his sister, and as the one who gave him the advice, I wanted to know if she liked the gift.

So, I sent him a text again and asked if his little sister was happy with the gift.

I resumed watching the series when I didn’t receive any reply from him, and it was when I was about to doze off to sleep that my phone rang.

“Hmm,” That was my greeting. I was way too sleepy to focus on what I was saying and I knew that I had to say something to indicate to the other person that I was on the other side.

“Cute,” I knew the owner of the voice. And my sleep immediately dispersed.

“What do you want?” I asked him with a yawn.

“You are always so rude to me,” He said dramatically.

“Please stop being dramatic,” I said, as I rolled over. I was facing the ceiling now. The sleepy spell that I felt was all gone now.

“Why do you want my name?”

“Because I need to call you something.”

“My name is Jack,” I rolled my eyes at his name. He gave me the most common name in the world, and I knew that even he knew that I didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, and I am Rose then.” I replied back sarcastically.

He chuckled, “We are just meant to be together, aren’t we?”

No one needed to know that I blushed at his words, and that a smile automatically found its way on my face.

“Did you find something for your sister?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I did. Thank you. She said she is never going to take off her bracelet now.” I could tell that he was genuinely happy from the way his voice sounded. I was a little amused because for women, thinking of gifting a matching jewelry is something so common, but the way he was reacting, I could tell men never thought of something like that.

Or maybe it was just him.

“I am glad.” I replied.

“Thank you, cutiepie.” I just sighed at his nickname, and I wondered how could nicknames like that flow through his mouth this easily. For me, showing any bit of affection, whether real or fake, was impossibly hard.

“I should let you know I have a boyfriend.” I said. Technically it was not a lie. I did have a boyfriend, it shouldn’t matter if it was a fake or real one.

“Your boyfriend must be really lucky.” He said, and I snorted, “Obviously.”

Jack, yes, we both decided it would be fun to call each other Jack and Rose, called me again the next day around 10pm and we talked a lot. And again. And again.

It felt nice to ramble on to a stranger who didn’t know anything about me and it felt like I could tell him anything and he won’t judge me.

I learnt a lot about him too. He told me that he didn’t have parents, and lived with his aunt. He told me he loved doing math and I actually was in disbelief when I got that information. “No way!?”

He laughed, “I love this reaction, but it’s true. My aunt is a math teacher. She teaches college students so growing up, I wanted to do everything that she loved and that included math too. And honestly, I love math now.”

And something in me changed at that moment. He sounded so soft about his aunt and I could feel the love he had for her, and it was just a phone call. I think I grew a soft spot for him right at that moment and the thought of him being a crazy murderer that was just lurking in the periphery of my mind disappeared. A person like him could never be a bad person, I thought to myself.

He also told me how he loved going to the gym as it challenged him physically and my mind immediately flew to that day, and a picture of his abs floated to my mind.

He was also flirty, but in a very friendly way. I knew he was joking whenever he would flirt with me, and that made him so charming in my eyes.

I also couldn’t help sharing things with him, I told him how I only had my father, and how the death of my mother devastated him but how he was trying to be the best father he can be. He said that when he would have a daughter in the future, he would love to be like my father and I knew at that moment that this dude was a smooth talker.

And it was when I was giggling over a text sent by him, I realized that maybe I had a crush on him.

How scandalous! I thought to myself amusedly. Crushing on someone else when I had a fake boyfriend.

Then I groaned because crushing on a person I hadn’t even seen was such a good idea. What if he was not who he claimed to be? What if he looked horrendous? Then I thought about how I definitely liked his personality, and would his looks matter to me?

I groaned at my thoughts, and decided to not think about him. But it was impossible. I had reached that moment in our texting relationship, where I was waiting impatiently for him to reply me.

“This is why people didn’t fall for strangers they met over a text.” I muttered to myself.

__

“I still can’t believe you agreed to be his fake girlfriend,” Ashley muttered for like the hundredth time. I was helping Ashley to color her hair. She was sitting on my chair, with a scarf wrapped around her neck, and papers on the floor so that any spilled color would not fall on the floor.

It was a Sunday, and I was tending my house plants when Ashley opened the door to my room, and simply said, “I want pink hair.”

“What? Why?” I asked, a little shocked because it was so sudden.

“And you are going to help me!” She had told me instead of answering my questions, and as her bestfriend I agreed. It was my duty to be a part of whatever fucked up decision she was going to take.

“I think he deserves my help for being a nice person and handling Chris.”

“I would have killed that asshole if there were no laws about murder,”

I chuckled, “It’s because of people like you that there are laws,” I said jokingly, as I continued to colour her hair.

And she gave me a shove lightly, “You will be my next victim after chris.”

I laughed, and as the day progressed, a new Ashley was born.