RTB pt 7
̶W̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.̶
̶H̶e̶y̶,̶ ̶l̶u̶n̶c̶h̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶f̶u̶n̶,̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶?̶
Maggie groaned. What even are words!? Did she want to be the first to text? She technically did the first asking out so shouldn’t she wait so as to not seem desperate? But that’s only if it was actually a date and not just “hanging out”. If she was just a friend then texting wouldn’t be an issue. At least she didn’t think it would be. They had agreed to text each other, but hadn’t exchanged numbers because all staff phone numbers were listed on the company’s payroll app. Had that been a soft let down?
She groaned again, dropping her phone on the pillow next to her and falling back into her bed. It had only been a couple of days. Why was she getting so worked up about it? She’s just a co-worker. Just a friend. An acquaintance really. Maggie caressed her hands, remembering Marissa’s touch. But what if that’s not all I want her to be? Jesus Christ, Maggie get a grip. Don’t people know if they’re gay or not by the time they’re like, three? Well, three seems a little young, but isn’t that around the time sexual orientation forms? Or was that just the earliest signs of it they’ve detected? She shook her head before it started spiraling. Could it be I’ve always been bisexual and never known it? It would explain why I’ve always felt at least a little different.
She checked her phone. Still no messages. What about Facebook? That’s less clingy right? She opened the app and quickly punched in: Marissa DeLuna
A bit of scrolling was involved but eventually she found the right Marissa. Her profile picture was a simple straight shot of her with a cat on her shoulders.
“Oh my god, she’s cute!” Maggie said to no one in particular.
Okay, so it’s just a friend request, no worries. Nothing intrusive or overly clingy, just a click on a touch screen. Friend request sent. Okay. Alright. It’s out there now. Just wait for her to get back to you. But what if she doesn’t really use Facebook? This could be worse than waiting for her to text me first.
A notification popped up on the top of her phone’s screen. “Marissa DeLuna accepted your friend request.”
Maggie couldn’t help but smile, her heartbeat accelerating a bit as she went into the Messenger app and hit the little hand that would "wave” at Marissa. Once the doofy little animation had happened she set to typing.