Zane
Saint: Talk to me.
Saint: Fallon...
Saint: I'm sorry.
Saint: We need to talk.
Saint: Look, ignore me all you want but I refuse to go away. I'm like a disease.
I stared down at my phone. In all my desperation, I was pretty sure I just told the girl I care about that I was like a disease. And I wasn't even drunk. It was a completely sober text. Damn it.
Saint: But a good disease.
Shit. I just made it worse.
Saint: The kind you want?
Fallon: YOU ARE DRIVING ME INSANE! Name one disease that I would actually want, and I'll talk to you.
I frowned down at my phone and quickly Googled diseases that were helpful to humans, naturally I got nothing, so I made one up.
Saint: Zanism. Heard girls get all hot and bothered, some even faint. Ever heard of it?
Fallon: Nope. Sorry.
Groaning, I stared up at her house. It had been seven days of ignored texts and phone calls.
Seven. Days.