The Mistext
After a soul-crushing shift at the restaurant, I finally collapse into my chair, the one that’s molded itself to my ass after too many late nights. All I want is to strip to my boxers, recline like a defeated king, and drown in the next few episodes of Game of Thrones. But the universe has other plans. I reek. Not just normal post-work sweat—I smell like a grease fire had passionate sex with garlic aioli and then rolled around in fried onions. The aroma is so thick it’s practically a second skin.
Fifteen minutes later I’m clean(ish), clutching a bottle of water like it’s a trophy, and burrowing back into my blanket cocoon. Legs up on the desk, show queued, peace at last.
Then my phone buzzes.
It’s 11:47 p.m. I groan audibly—who texts at this hour unless someone is bleeding or on fire? I swing my legs down, roll the chair toward the bed like a man sentenced to hard labor, and grab the phone just as it buzzes again.
Sierra Acosta. One of my online tutoring students.
I roll my eyes so hard I nearly see my own brain. Great. She’s probably about to ask me to explain MLA format for the seventeenth time or beg for a three-week extension because her “laptop spontaneously combusted.”
I open the messages.
Sierra Acosta: Hey baby u up?
Sierra Acosta: I have been thinking about u all day.
I snort. Classic wrong-number catastrophe. I start typing the polite “you’ve got the wrong guy” response when the third message lands.
Sierra Acosta: Last night was amazing. No 1 has ever made me feel like that. My body was tingling all over.
My eyebrows climb into my hairline. I type faster.
Me: Wow um…
Me: Ms. Acosta you might want to check who you’re texting.
I lean back, already picturing her horror. She replies in seconds.
Sierra Acosta: OMG professor Richards I am sorry!
Sierra Acosta: That was totally meant for someone else.
Me: I kind of figured.
Sierra Acosta: Wow I feel so stupid. Ur name is right above a friend of mine in my phone. I accidentally texted u instead of him. :(
Me: It’s okay. These things happen. Well… maybe not exactly like this. lol
Silence. I assume mortification has claimed her. I fire off one last gracious exit.
Me: Anyways, congratulations on such a talented boyfriend.
I’m smirking, ready to hit play, when—
Sierra Acosta: Oh he isn’t my boyfriend
Sierra Acosta: He is just someone I talk to when I am in… U know the mood.
I actually laugh out loud. She’s either the most unfiltered person alive or she’s decided shame is optional after midnight.
Me: lol Again you don’t have to explain
Sierra Acosta: Sorry :(
Another pause. I set the phone down, smug, thinking the crisis is averted. Ten minutes into the episode my phone vibrates again.
Sierra Acosta: Um Professor u aren’t going to report me or anything for texting you that?
Sierra Acosta: I am really sorry
The idea is so absurd I nearly choke on my water. Report her? For accidentally sexting her tutor? I’m twenty-three, not a tenured department chair.
Me: lol No I am not going to report you.
Me: And I’m not a professor. I’m just an online tutor.
Sierra Acosta: I knew u were a tutor but I thought u were a professor also.
Me: Not yet. I’m actually just a student like you. Tutoring gets me extra credit and beer money.
Sierra Acosta: Oh… So how old r u?
Me: 23
Sierra Acosta: Wow… You know I have always pictured u as an overweight balding middle aged guy with glasses.
I bark a laugh. That’s… specific. And a little savage.
Me: No I have all my hair but I do wear glasses.
Silence again. Suddenly I’m irrationally worried she finds glasses repulsive. I stare at the screen like it owes me money.
Curiosity wins. I’ve never understood the whole anonymous phone-sex thing. I type before I can talk myself out of it.
Me: So how does it work?
Sierra Acosta: How does what work?
Me: You and this guy. He’s a friend with benefits right?
Sierra Acosta: Haha Oh
Sierra Acosta: It isn’t like you are thinking. We don’t meet up and have sex. We just talk through text or on the phone.
Sierra Acosta: We have never met each other. It’s just phone sex.
Me: So you’ve never met this guy? Do you even know what he looks like?
Sierra Acosta: No. We both decided to keep that part a mystery allowing us to picture who we want to while we do this.
Me: lol What if he is some middle aged fat balding guy with glasses?
Sierra Acosta: Haha he could be. We have sent some pictures but we pretty much cut or block out our faces.
Sierra Acosta: I can’t believe I am talking to you about this. This isn’t like your work phone that they can check your messages on?
Me: No it’s my personal phone. The only person seeing these messages is me… and now you, apparently.
Sierra Acosta: So you just give out your phone number to random people you don’t know?
Me: You’re one to talk, Ms. Phone Sex. I figured it would be easier for tutoring questions. And everyone probably thinks I’m that overweight middle-aged balding professor anyway, so they usually don’t abuse the privilege.
Sierra Acosta: Haha
Me: But if the school found out I was discussing phone sex with a student I tutor… yeah, I’d probably be toast.
Sierra Acosta: Hmm so I could possibly use this against you. What should I get my tutor to do for me? ;)
I grin like an idiot. Blackmail-flirting at midnight. My life is weird.
Me: Resorting to blackmail? No Sierra I’m not doing your homework for you.
Me: Just remember I have this entire conversation saved too. Don’t make me forward it to your actual professor.
Sierra Acosta: Gasp You wouldn’t!
Me: lol Probably not.
Sierra Acosta: Haha You are actually a lot different than I imagined you to be.
Me: Are you upset that I’m not a balding overweight middle-aged guy?
Sierra Acosta: Haha No.
Sierra Acosta: But I do have you in my phone as Professor Dick.
Me: lol Professor Dick? Actually my name is Alex.
Sierra Acosta: Yeah you never sounded like you were in a good mood and you always talked down to me like I was a child.
Fair. I’ve definitely been short with her.
Me: Well, to be honest, some of your questions and excuses were… creative.
Sierra Acosta: HEY all my excuses were valid!
Me: You told me you couldn’t do your work because your cat vomited all over your laptop.
Sierra Acosta: IT DID!!
Sierra Acosta: The vomit was disgusting and it smelled. I didn’t want to touch my laptop for a couple of days.
Me: lol Suuure.
Sierra Acosta: Dick >.<
We go back and forth like that for nearly two hours—jabs, fake outrage, stupid jokes. I’m actually enjoying myself, which is alarming.
Me: Shouldn’t you be talking to your “friend” right now?
The second I hit send I regret it. I don’t want her to leave.
Sierra Acosta: Oh he is out with friends he will message me when he gets home.
Relief hits harder than it should.
Sierra Acosta: But I guess I am kind of hungry. I think I am going to get me something to eat.
Me: Alright have a good night.
Sierra Acosta: You too Alex bye bye
She used my name. Not Professor Dick. Not Dick. Alex.
Me: Bye
I set the phone down, staring at the paused episode I never finished. Two hours ago I wanted nothing more than solitude and dragons. Now the room feels quieter than it should.
