Text Messages
by Selena Thomason
Abby pivoted the pen back and forth between her fingers. The next line eluded her. She had written herself into a corner again and couldn't find a way out.
She glanced over at Ben who, as usual, was hunched over his desk writing as fast as his fingers would allow. Words came easily to Ben, at least on paper or in matters of writing. Outside that comfort zone he often stumbled in conversation, either saying the wrong thing or lapsing into an uncomfortable silence.
On the page, Ben was unstoppable and Abby envied that. Whenever it was time to critique Ben's work, Abby found herself simultaneously admiring and coveting his talent. It was always a struggle not to sound like a Ben groupie when it was her turn to give feedback. She had started falling back on classic, all-purpose comments like "add specificity" and "needs deeper characterizations." In truth, Ben's stories mostly just needed to be published. His work never even had typos. It always appeared on the page fully formed and completely flawless.
Ben paused and looked up from his paper. Abby was so stunned that she actually held her breath. Could Brilliant Ben really be at a loss for words?
He looked in her direction. Their eyes met for a moment and he smiled. At her! Abby's heart leapt. A split-second later he was back in his story head down, hand moving furiously across the page.
What was that? Abby wondered. She could hardly finish her own story for replaying that shared moment over and over in her head.
After class she timed her exit to allow a discreet "bumping into" with Ben at the door.
"How did the exercise work for you today?" she asked.
"Fine." He fumbled in his bag for something that never materialized.
"It seemed like you got stuck there for a second."
"Not really. I just needed a character description. So I modeled her after you."
"Me?"
"Sure. I looked up and there you were. I realized you were perfect."
Abby didn't know whether she felt flattered or violated. "Who is this character anyway? Is she a central character?"
Ben looked at his feet. "I didn't think at first. She was just supposed to be the quirky neighbor. A little local color, you know? But then she kept showing up everywhere, and she's such a good foil for my protagonist, that it just works."
"Well, what's she like?"
"Artsy."
"A writer?"
"A painter. She does these huge, bright florals. Plus some abstract landscapes on the side. She's fun and social and good with people. All the things I'm not. I mean, that my protagonist isn't. Well, I guess neither of us is very good with people. But Alice is."
"Alice?"
"That's her name."
"Huh. I can't wait to read it."
"You'll have your chance. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think."
The conversation ended without further verbal closing. Ben threw his backpack over his shoulder and nodded as he left. Abby watched him go and thought that she'd have to spend more time on her story this week. She didn't care what the other members of the group thought. She didn't even care what the teacher thought. All she wanted was for Ben to be impressed by her work. So far, she hadn't written anything impress-worthy, but she kept trying. One day, Ben was going to read something of hers and declare it "positively brilliant."
###
"That was very moving," the teacher said when it was time to discuss Abby's latest story. "Lots of emotion. Very nice."
Abby couldn¹t focus on what the others had to say; she was too anxious to hear Ben's response. Still, she was completely unprepared for his comment.
"I thought it was very romantic," he said to everyone's astonishment.
Abby couldn't speak.
"Romantic?" the teacher demurred. "I didn't see the story as a romance. Who did you see as Lila's love interest?"
"The cashier at the coffee shop."
"But he's a bit character."
Abby smiled. She knew the cashier appeared to be a secondary character but that, like Alice in Ben's story, he would turn out to be the center of the narrative.
"We don't even know his name," the teacher continued. "What makes you think he is a love interest for Lila?"
Ben looked at Abby then back at their teacher. "It's the little things. Didn't you notice how he put the cup holder on for her, so she didn't singe her fingers? Plus he handed her the sugar for her coffee separately so their hands would touch for a second."
Abby had added those details on purpose. She didn't think anyone would notice, but she hoped Ben would. And he did. She was dying to ask if he remembered how he had done exactly those things when they happened to be
getting their pre-class coffee at the same time. The bigger question of course was whether he had meant those gestures in the same way she had taken them. But Abby wasn't ready to ask that question yet.
###
Abby couldn't believe what she was reading. Ben's story had gotten more and more romantic. The character Alice was everywhere, the main focus of all the protagonist's thoughts and actions. Yet still, Ben's protagonist Mark had not been able to tell Alice his true feelings. Abby supposed that made for better dramatic tension, but she wished he would fess up all the same.
"I just can't figure out the right way to do it," Ben lamented in class the next week. "Nothing seems big enough for the moment."
"Maybe the moment doesn't have to be big," Abby suggested.
"Yes, that's true," the teacher added. Abby had nearly forgotten Professor Lanton was there. "Good suggestion, Abby. Sometimes the monumental is best depicted in the everyday."
Abby hated the teacher's aphorisms, even when they made sense. Which they didn't always.
"Exactly," Abby agreed, looking at Ben for emphasis. She hoped he was getting her full meaning. "It's the feelings that count and that you show them. I mean, that the characters do, that you have them share their feelings, as a plot device, you know. To bring some resolution to the dramatic conflict."
Abby caught Ben smirking at her verbal stumbling. He seemed to enjoy seeing her flustered. He said once that she made him a little nervous, so maybe seeing her fumble made him more comfortable around her. If so, then it was worth a little bit of embarrassment.
Finally Ben saved her by saying, "That's a great idea. I'll try that for next week."
###
Abby could hardly wait to get her hands on Ben's new pages. She scanned the story for the big love scene she had been waiting for.
There it was. Mark and Alice were having coffee. They had decided to go for a walk to the park. Sitting on a bench, watching the birds, Mark began his speech.
"Alice, we've know each other for a while now."
"A few months, I suppose," Alice interrupted, oblivious to the developing moment. "Ever since the power went out and you came by looking for a flashlight."
"Yes. We've seen each other nearly every day since. And I think we've become friends, right?" He looked sideways at Alice for confirmation.
She patted his arm briefly to reassure him. "Yes, of course. Good friends."
Mark took a breath. "Great. That's great. Because I think you're fantastic. You're so creative and interesting and fun to be around. I really enjoy spending time with you. In fact, I'd like to spend more time with you."
"Sure, that sounds great. I like you too."
"Well, you see, it's more than that. Abby, I think I've fallen in love with you."
Abby stopped reading. She looked away from the pages for a second to clear her head. It couldn't have said "Abby." Ben's story is about Mark and Alice.
It had to be her mind playing tricks on her.
She looked back down at the pages. Skimming the story, she saw the name "Alice" typed several times. Then, in the crucial line, it changed to "Abby." It had to be a typo, she thought.
But Ben never made proofing mistakes. Everyone else in class did, but never Ben. Abby flipped back to the beginning of the story and began scanning for glitches. There were none. No extra commas. No weird capitalization. No even one "it's" instead of "its."
She looked over at Ben and realized that he had probably been watching her the whole time. He raised his eyebrows and shoulders as if asking what she thought.
"You typed Abby instead of Alice," she whispered across the aisle.
Heat rose to his face and his gaze fell to the desk in front of him. "It's not a mistake," he said without looking up.
Abby knew immediately how she would be ending her story next week. Lila would hand her charge slip back to the cashier with "I love you too" scrawled at the bottom instead of a signature.
"No," she said, "it's not a mistake. It's perfect."
Ben looked up and, pivoting his pen back and forth between his fingers, he smiled.
END
Selena Thomason writes mostly science fiction, but sometimes feels called to other forms and genres. Her stories have been published in magazines such as The Literary Bone, VerbSap, Alien Skin Magazine, and Long Story Short. Her published works are available at http://selenathomason.com/. Contact Selena.
