FWB
There’s only a message request, and when I click on it, I see it’s a restricted account.
Mateo Russo wants to send you a message.
Hey Kieran, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me but could I call you?
If not that’s okay.
My mum called me and told me what you did.
My heart pangs at the formal message and the use of my actual name. Deciding I have nothing more to lose at this point, I click accept and reply.
OK.
My phone starts ringing a moment later, lighting up with the goofy photo I took of him in Freshman year. He had a babyface then, and the weird pig-nose face he’s pulling makes me smile to myself. I haven’t seen it in ages.
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