Her text

I got home and saw Uncle sitting on the couch eating Doritos—lazy as usual.

“You didn’t even come pick me up,” I said to him.

“You're in college now. I can’t keep treating you like a kid,” he replied.

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to tell him about the girl’s number I got, but she hadn’t texted me yet. If I told him and she ended up not texting, it’d be hell—he’d roast me all week.

I went to the fridge, grabbed my lunch, microwaved it, ate, and went to bed.

My alarm woke me up for boxing training. I took a shower, and Uncle drove me to the gym. Today's training wasn’t intense; I just did some mitt work, then sparred with two others. It wasn’t anything serious—just a standard sparring session. I wrapped up in under two hours, but Uncle made me do some road work before we got home. I wasn’t even tired. I’ve been through worse.

I picked up my phone, which I’d left charging at home because Coach doesn’t allow phones in the gym. I opened W******p immediately, hoping for a message from Aalia—but there was nothing. Man, I was disappointed.

I headed to the living room to play FIFA with Uncle. At first, I was winning, but I kept checking my phone every few minutes, hoping to see a text from Aalia. I ended up losing three games in a row—something that never happens. Uncle was hyped, thinking he was finally getting better, but then he noticed I wasn’t focused.

“Is something bothering you?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” I said.

“You're not focused. You’re not even playing well. Your passes aren’t connecting,” he said.

“I’m just a little tired. I think I’ll head to bed,” I muttered and walked sluggishly to my room.

I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I felt bad. Aalia still hadn’t texted. I opened my sad playlist and hit play. Eventually, I drifted off. Around 12:05 AM, I woke up to pee. The music had stopped—the playlist was done. I saw a W******p notification. Thinking it was just another group message, I ignored it and went to the restroom.

When I came back, I lay in bed, ready to sleep again, but something made me pick up my phone.

I saw a “Hi” from a new number. I was instantly wide awake. The message was sent at exactly 12:00 AM. She might still be online.

“Who’s this?” I replied.

About 30 seconds later: “It’s Aalia, the girl from school.”

Man, I was so happy—she hadn’t forgotten me after all. I waited a minute to avoid looking desperate, then replied:

“Oh? I’ve been expecting your text. Thought you’d message earlier.”

Five minutes passed before she replied:

“Sorry, I had something to do. When I finished, I went to sleep. I just woke up not long ago.”

Then she added: “Here’s the class rep’s number: +1286xxxxxx. Text him so he can add you to the GC.”

I replied immediately, “Thank you.”

She didn’t respond again—just sent a thumbs-up emoji. Man, I was disappointed.

“Should I double-text? No, if I do, it’ll seem like I like her. But isn’t that the point? Showing I like her? What if she’s not into me? What if she ghosts the second text?” I wrestled with myself.

Eventually, I decided to go for it:

“Won’t you sleep?” I asked.

She replied almost instantly:

“I can’t sleep. But I wanna watch some TikToks. I’m kinda bored.”

My stomach flipped. Butterflies.

“She’s bored. That’s a sign. She wants me to talk to her. What should I ask?” I thought hard for a bit. Two minutes passed. Then I typed:

“What club do you plan on joining?”

A minute later:

“I haven’t really thought about it. But maybe fashion or boxing.”

Boxing? She’s into boxing too? She’s the one. The universe is giving me signs: we met at a boxing match, we go to the same college, we’re both online at midnight, and she likes boxing. What more proof do I need?

Then she double-texted:

“You?”

I wanted to jump. I was grinning like an idiot.

“Boxing,” I typed. Then followed up:

“Are you interested in boxing?”

She replied, “Not really.”

I expected more, but nothing came.

“You dress well,” I added. “You must be into fashion if you're thinking about joining the fashion club.”

No reply. She hadn’t even read it—the blue tick never came. I waited 10 minutes. Then 30. Then almost an hour. Still nothing. I figured she’d text back eventually, so I just went to sleep—sad.

---

The next day, Dad, Uncle, and I had breakfast. Dad asked about school and how things were going. We had a short conversation before he left for work. Uncle drove me to school. On the way, he tried to make conversation, but I wasn’t in the mood. He picked up on it and let me be.

When I got to school, I walked around, trying to get familiar with the place. Then I heard a girl’s voice call out my name:

“Collins! Collins!”

I turned around and saw Aalia approaching, all smiles.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I replied.

“I saw you back at the park when your driver dropped you off. I called you, but I don’t think you heard me,” she said.

“Why’s she acting like everything’s cool after ghosting me last night?” I thought. But for some reason, I wasn’t even mad anymore. Her smile made me forget all of it.

“Oh, that’s not my driver,” I started, planning to say “uncle,” but I paused. Maybe I should try to impress her. “That’s my househelp. He helps with everything. I haven’t gotten my license yet, so he drives me around too.”

“Oh,” she said.

“What about Jeffrey?” she asked. “He should be here soon. Let’s go wait for him at the hall.”

The hall wasn’t far, so we got there in about two minutes. We didn’t talk at all while walking. It was the most awkward two minutes of my life.