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H is for Intrigued

Frank: March 28th, 2026

I am almost done with my run when my smart watch buzzes with a message. I glance at it, and I am about to ignore it when I notice that it’s from a number I don’t recognize, and… it might not be spam. 

I slow my run to look at my watch, and see that it says, “Hey.”

That’s it. “Hey.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and type back, “Hey.”

And then I stumble because I’m not paying attention to where I’m jogging. I manage to get my feet back under me, and then look around to see if anyone saw me almost wipe out.

Thankfully, the street is deserted. I slow to a walk and pull my phone out of my pocket, so I’m not awkwardly texting on my watch. I see the little bubble pop up that says the other person is typing. It feels like forever until the message finally comes through.

“What are you doing tonight?”

I raise one eyebrow. Should I assume it’s Amelia? Should I ask?

“I don’t know yet. What are you doing?” I write instead.

Maybe Amelia: I was hoping to get out of the house tonight.

Me: Where do you want to go?

Maybe Amelia: I don’t know. Maybe karaoke?

Me: Karaoke could be fun. There’s a fun place down on 6th street I like.

Maybe Amelia: Fine by me. Meet you there at 9PM?

Me: Okay.

Okay, shit. Now it’s too late to ask if it really is Amelia. But I’m too intrigued by the idea not to show up.