If there was a prize for Most Dramatic High School Crush Confession, Hayley Summers was about to win it by a landslide.
Clutching her phone with trembling fingers, she took a deep breath and typed the message she'd been rehearsing for weeks:
"Hey, just wanted to say... I like you. Like, really like you. :)"
Simple. Sweet. Slightly mortifying.
Hayley hit SEND before her brain could sabotage her. She dropped her phone on her bed and flopped backward, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding like she had just run a marathon.
Noah, the guy who looked so perfect without mistakes and that golden retriever smile that melts her heart ... she finally picked up the courage.
Buzz.
She jolted upright, her heart beating fast.
The reply was almost instant.
Unknown Number: "Uh, wow. I mean, I'm flattered. Who is this?"
Wait.
Unknown number?
Panic set in. She double-checked the text log. Had she... sent it to the wrong number?!
Hayley: "OMG I'm so sorry!! Wrong person!! Please ignore me!!"
Unknown Number: "Well now I'm curious. You can't just drop a love confession and ghost me."
Her cheeks burned. She could feel secondhand embarrassment crawling up her spine.
This was how she died. Death by cringe.
Hayley: "It was supposed to go to someone from my math class. Not a random stranger."
Unknown Number: "Harsh. I could be good at math too, you know."
A reluctant giggle escaped her. Was this guy flirting with her?
Hayley: "Do you even know what 7x8 is?"
Unknown Number: "56. Duh. I'm not a caveman."
Okay, points for fast math.
She bit her lip, debating. Technically, she should block him and move on.
Technically.
But... there was something weirdly fun about this.
Hayley: "Fine. You get a pass. But seriously, sorry for bothering you."
Unknown Number: "You're not bothering me. You just made my boring Thursday 100x better."
She smiled, a real one this time.
Later that night, Hayley couldn't stop thinking about the mystery texter.
They messaged back and forth about everything and nothing — favorite pizza toppings (pepperoni for both), worst movies ever (he swore Sharknado was a cinematic masterpiece), dream vacation spots (Tokyo for her, Iceland for him).
Still, she refused to give away any personal details. Safety first.
All she knew about him was that he was funny, quick-witted, and probably around her age.
Maybe. Hopefully.
The next morning, as Hayley waited at the bus stop, her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: "Morning. Did you survive the embarrassment?"
Hayley: "Barely. People should have to pass an emotional test before owning a phone."
Unknown Number: "If it helps, you made my day. And... I like talking to you."
Her stomach did a little somersault.
What was happening here?
This was insane.
Later at lunch, Hayley's best friend, Jenna, leaned across the cafeteria table.
Jenna: "You're smiling at your phone like you just won the lottery. Spill."
Hayley (grinning like an idiot): "I texted the wrong number yesterday."
Jenna (wide-eyed): "And you're still talking to him?? Girl, that's how horror movies start."
Hayley: "Or romcoms."
Jenna: "Or horror-romcoms."
They both burst out laughing.
Still... Jenna had a point. Hayley barely knew him. She should be cautious.
That night, Mystery Texter sent a photo.
Not of himself — of a messy plate of homemade cookies with a caption:
"Tried to bake. Almost set the kitchen on fire. Rate my disaster."
She laughed so hard she snorted.
Hayley: "6/10. Points for effort."
Unknown Number: "Rude. You're lucky you're cute."
Wait.
CUTE?
HOLD ON, could he possibly know what I look LIKE??!
Before she could ask or say anything, he sent another text:
Unknown Number: "Also.
I think we should meet."
Hayley stared at the screen, heart thudding.
Was this crazy?
Was this exciting?
Was this both?
She had no idea.
But she texted back anyway.
Hayley: "Tell me something real about you first."
Unknown Number: "I'm a senior. I have a dog named Waffles. And... I'm definitely not a 60-year-old man."
Hayley (smiling): "Waffles is a strong name. I approve."
Unknown Number: "Can I know your name now?"
Hayley hesitated...
Then typed:
Hayley: "Hayley."
Three seconds later:
Unknown Number: "I'm Chris."
Somewhere between that wrong text and that right name, Hayley felt it.
A tiny spark.
A maybe.
Maybe... some mistakes weren't mistakes at all.
Right?