Page 25 of The Equation of Us
I hit send, then immediately freeze as I realize my mistake. The text didn’t go to Sadie.
It went to Dean.
Horror washes over me in a cold wave. I stare at the screen, at the name at the top of the conversation—DEAN CARTER, not Sadie Wilson.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, frantically trying to figure out if there’s any way to unsend a text. There isn’t.
Three dots appear. He’s typing.
I consider throwing my phone out the window. Or transferring schools. Or possibly faking my own death.
The dots stop. Then start again. Stop.
I quickly fire off a reply before I have to move to Antarctica.
Me:Sorry about that. Ignore. Wrong thread.
Finally, a message appears:
Dean:We’ll talk about this tomorrow, Nora.
His tone is impossible to read. Is he angry? Amused? Disgusted?
The formality makes me think he’s disappointed, which somehow feels worse than anger.
I type and delete a dozen responses. Apologies, explanations, jokes to lighten the mood. None of them seem right.
In the end, I just send:
Me:I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant for you.
Dean:I figured. Sleep well.
That’s it. No emoji, no further explanation. Just the certainty that we’ll be discussing this tomorrow.
I fall back on my bed, mortified. How am I supposed to face him now? What am I supposed to say?
Sorry I accidentally told you I want to climb you like a tree. Can we go back to pretending we don’t have crushing sexual tension?
My phone buzzes again. This time, it really is Sadie.
Sadie:Hello? Earth to Nora? Did you die of embarrassment just admitting you think hockey boy is hot?
If only she knew.
Me:I just sent that text to Dean by mistake.
Three dots. Then:
Sadie:HOLY SHIT
Sadie:WHAT DID HE SAY???
Me:“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, Nora.”
Sadie:Damn. That’s either really good or really bad.
Me:How could it possibly be good?
