My thumb hovers over the send button as I stare at the words on the screen.
Can we meet somewhere and talk?
Is it too short? Should I really send it? Maybe a phone call would be better? A million thoughts rush through my head as I stare at those six simple words. I should reword that. My fingers move to delete the message, but instead, a new hand comes into my line of site and presses send.
“Gabriel!” I cry out, hitting ‘end’ about a dozen times to cancel it. Unfortunately, the letters go from dark grey to black on the screen, telling me it’s a legit message now. I turn to scowl at my mate.
“What? It’s not my fault you have an old-school phone and I was capable of doing that,” he says, holding his hands up.
My scowl turns into a small pout, “It’s not old-school.” I murmur, t
