My phone buzzed in my cup holder. I took the first exit and parked next to a sorry-looking, tan station wagon. There were two teenage girls sitting in the back, immersed in their phones. I picked my own up and checked the screen. It was from Claris.
“Hi,” it said.
I smiled. “Hey,” I typed back.
“What’s up? You took so long to respond.”
“Driving. I’m pulled over, don’t worry.”
“Oh yeah? Are you anything else?”
“Yeah, hungry. I’m going to get some pizza.”
“Lol. I thought we were getting dinner when you got back.”
“Yep. And something else.”
“; )”
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