They're not responding.

Why are they not responding?

HARLEY, MARY, WHY AREN'T YOU RESPONDING?

Ok. I'm really freaking out right now. Now kidding. I want to text Harley and Mary about today, about Sid and Holly, but they won't even respond to my, "Come on and respond or face the spam" message.

I even texted the spam, which is pretty much just me typing "SPAM" a million times so they will respond, but it's not working now. They both responded this morning, but why won't they now?

I threw my phone onto my bed. My friends were not being good friends right now. And with them it's easy to get upset. I flop beside my phone onto the bed. I pick it up and scroll through my contacts.

I scroll down to the M's and stoped. "Me?" Why do I have a contact named me? I guess it's time to figure out.

I clicked on the contact info button, to see if I could possibly recognize the number. The phone number was (805)-113-8486. I think I've seen that number before, so maybe it's one of my friends.

"Hey," I texted. If I were saying this out loud, it would be in a tone that would make anyone run into the woods in fear. And as a bonus they'd probably also sing "Are we out of the woods."

"Who is this?" I typed into my tiny phone's keyboard. If I was gonna get anywhere in this investigation, I would have to know the name of the suspect.

"😎😎" Was my response. Emojis. Flock. What the heck is this person? Saying that their name is 😎😎.

"Hollllllyyyyy." She replied a second after the emojis. Oh god. Did I add this mysterious girl into my contacts in my sleep or something. Dangit. This is worse than Harley singing "Stuck in the middle", the dumbest song I've ever made, in the middle of English class.

"Why are you in my contacts?" I replied, not being kind enough to mention her name.

"🐢" She replied, and, I have to admit, I laughed. A turtle. Holly must've discovered the emojis on her phone.

"Fine, turtle, but why are you in my contacts?"

"Well, when you were getting dressed in gym class, I added my number into your contacts as 'Me' so you'd have to go through this whole process to figure out it was me."

Well played, Holly. A smart and creepy way of giving me your number. Genius. But again, creepy.

Wait. I have Holly's number. Isn't that a, like, professional dating thing to do? I don't know. Pro tip: Never consider Emily Wishmen a dating expert.

"Oh." I responded simply. Ok. I realized something today; I am not normal.

A/N:

Another short one, but the book's almost over, so, again, Ima drag it out with short chapters. Thanks for reading!!