David's POV

"Davy!"

Her voice is shrill as Nazia comes running from the opposite house toward me. Her black hair waving behind her, her abundance of purple and gold clothing making her shimmer in the sun. How she actually manages to run in the sari draped over what I know is normal clothing underneath always seems to impress me.

Nazia grew up in LA, never leaving the city once. She has never been to India, and her parents are anything but traditional or religious, both her parents being dentists, but somewhere in the last year she has been doing huge amounts of research into her roots. Hence the sari's she has been wearing the past year. I have to admit she looks gorgeous in them.

"Namaste," she greets when she abruptly stops right in front of me.

"Namaste," I answer, holding my hands in the position of a prayer like she has told me, greeting her back.

"So how is the college applications going?" she asks as I start walking again, trailing next to me. There is no shaking Nazia of when she decides to follow you around. Another reason why she is my greatest fan and probably my best friend since I was five years old.

"Slow... I am so tired of getting the one approval letter after the other but without full bursaries," I sigh, strudding towards the big buildings in the distance.

"That's really a bummer. But one of them will reply. I know everything will go well, even if you need to take a student loan," she says being her own cheerful self.

"It doesn't matter. My head just isn't into filling in forms today," I answer. I wish I could tell her what my head is full of, but it seems stupid even to me. How can I tell her that after only a few online messages a boy who's name I don't even know is kinda stealing my heart? I just can't help thinking about him since his first message came through this morning. I am actually anxious because I haven't heard from him in like three hours.

"I get that... It can be a bummer sitting and filling in forms the whole time. Who is watching Rosie if you are walking around town?" Nazia asks.

"My mom came home early. She is taking the evening shift tonight as well, so she should be home all afternoon," I answer as a ting comes from my pocket. I know the tone well. Without a doubt another Instawrite message.

For the past three hours the tone indicating a new message or notification has gone off eighteen times in my pocket. Not once has it been AlwaysAlone16. Maybe I should not have called him a perv.

"So, where are you heading?"

"I'm really just taking a walk. Trying to clear my head," I answer. I have an urge to check my phone, but I don't. I don't want Nazia to see the disappointment on my face if it is once again not him.

"Hopefully part of that clearing means thinking up your next awesome Instrawrite story," Nazia says with a smile. She is by far my number one fan. She reads everything I write and she always gives positive feedback. Fanfiction is her favourite thing in the world, and knowing me feels to her like she has a celebrity as a best friend. It's weird but somehow it works.

"Not before the December holidays..." I answer.

"You're an asshole," she mutters as she screws up her face. "I told you, you write and I will edit. See, I am willing to take over half your work to get some Bastian and Alden in my life! I need my little gay boys!"

"Only in December. Murray is bringing out something new next year. I am actually thinking of waiting for her to announce what she is working on before I start with something new," I say, my mind the first time truly away from AlwaysAlone16, thinking of what Murray could be writing at this moment.

"Oh god... You write fanfic... The ship isn't cannon. Why should the rest of the book be?" Nazia sighs.

"Because it has to," I answer, increasing my pace, hoping to somehow shake of Nazia so I can check my phone again.

"God! It feels like you're running away from me and I need to turn back. I have some serious shit to do before my parentals get home," she almost shouts. This time I stop walking and look at her. A smile on my face since I know I am going to get my alone time.

With a simple hug she runs off home again, quite possibly waiting for me to return so that she can bug me about writing a new fanfiction again.

I wait until she disappears into her yard before I pull out my phone and check my messages. I didn't have to worry about being disappointed, but I can't help the smile forming on my lips as I read the message a few times before my fingers find the keypad once more.

To: @alwaysalone16

From: @david.C

See, you can't hide anything from me. I am obviously psychic and that's how I know you drink Earl Grey from a Royal Albert cup. Lol. Nah, my grandmother just loved telling me stories about how she grew up in England. The way you speak makes me think about her for some reason. No, I am not telling you that you sound old. You just seem kinda British, which now really confuses me since you say you don't live there. Would it really be so bad to just tell me in which country you live? I don't know how you look, or what your name is, and unless you live in a country with a population of 3 people, I highly doubt I would be able to figure out who you are even if I did know the name of your country.

I will only judge you if you tell me that you actually enjoyed all the rape, murder and mayhem that happens in The Monk. I think it is a brilliant book from a literary point of view, but let's be honest... If there were a modern version I am sure it would have been written by the woman who writes 50 Shades. Lol.

Yeah! Dodie is awesome! Did she know that you were real when you met her? Okay... That was a really bad joke. One should never ever joke about mental illness. Sorry. I really think she is awesome. Have you seen her new music video? Trying to build the perfect man? I feel like that sometimes. I think that is why I love writing fanfiction so much. I get to work with perfect characters. They may not be human, but they cannot hurt you if their every word comes from my mouth and I know every action they will take. I don't write my own characters since I am not perfect, and I want love to be perfect. And who writes perfect characters better than C.J. Murray?

Would your insecurities hold you back from giving me something else to call you by other than AlwaysAlone16? It feels a bit long...

How did everything with your friends go? It sounded like you might be telling them that you are gay? I guess you have never had a boyfriend with being in the closet and all?

Hugs,

David

P.S. Maybe I should also start liking all cookies. It's just wrong to discriminate against cookies just because they're not Oreos.

I smile as I push the phone back into my pocket and keep walking on. Some part of me really hopes that he is currently online.

Is it really possible to fall for someone without knowing what they look like? For all I know he probably looks like a troll that just loves to read old books. Though...

I pull out my phone, type into the Google search engine, open the page and copy and paste.

I press send before I have a chance to decide otherwise.

Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river,

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by law divine

In one another's being mingle;--

Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another

No sister flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea;

What are all these kissings worth

If thou kiss not me?

I look up at the few clouds in the sky as I make my way to the secondhand bookstore I have been going to for years, never telling anyone about it. Not even Nazia. It's my one haven and the one place I would like to message AlwaysAlone16 from. For the first time I want to share my special place with someone else.

To: @david.C

From: @alwaysalone16

Did you just send me a poem? Wow, I have no idea what to say. I do love Shelley, his words have a way of transporting a person.

A psychic and a romantic, that is a deadly combination. I may be in trouble sir.

Alright, I'll tell you, I live in the Hamptons. The place of wealth and high society.

I actually got into The Monk because of Jane Austen. It was one of the scandalous books that her main character Catherine reads. The same character also enjoys the works of Mrs Radcliffe (Anne Radcliffe). I can't believe you just compared it to 50 Shades! That is not okay!

Yes she did know I was real... I think. I don't know her that well. It is very bad to poke fun at mental illness. She is a very inspiring person, everything she thinks and feels, and yet she carries on. She is very brave. I have seen her new music video, it made my heart ache.

I find that when you control your own creations all you have to worry about is actually hurting yourself. Comparison and realisation come into play and the ego does just love to take over. Does that make sense? I feel like I am possibly talking in circles. Sorry.

You can call me Dex, that's what my friends call me sometimes. I hope you find that agreeable?

I haven't come out to them, I am just trying to show more of myself. I don't think I am ready for that bigger jump. I can tell you know that they won't take it well. They are horrible people.

No, I have never had a boyfriend. If there are any gay boys in my school, then they are like me. Too scared to say anything. I have had girlfriends, I always end it before it gets too physical. I'm not sure I would be able to be convincing enough in that department. Kissing is one thing but sex with a woman is just icky.

I suppose it's different for you, I bet you have many boys knocking down your door?

Yes one love for all cookies!

Since you sent me a poem, I am going to send you a piece of one of my favorites.

As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

I have been coming to Julie's Bookshop since forever. It is old and dusty, and you can probably pick up a Charles Dickens in good condition for just a few cents. When Julie is there you can also get a free cup of coffee and just sit there for hours on end. She isn't here today however. Only the creepy guy behind the counter. He never talks. If you ask him for a book he walks and gets it for you, but he never answers a question. He can't be more than 20 years old, but he is creepier to me than a 100 year old corpse walking around.

I have barely sat down with a copy of The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde when my phone's tone goes off and Mr. Creepy gives me a look of disgust, making me want to walk over to him and explain the difference between a bookshop and a library, but decide that the message that just came through might just be a bit more important.

I almost fangirl by the time I get to the end. It is official...

I sigh.

Something worse than Trump in office has happened to me.

I might be in love with Dex. An imaginary sixteen year old guy that lives only in my phone.

To: @alwaysalone16

From: @david.C

And... I get a poem in return. I am going to admit that the poem made me kinda sad there for a moment. It makes it seem like you are standing on the outside of love, looking in, wishing it could have been you. I believe everyone should have love in their lives, and I truly hope that you find a love like that someday as well. You sound like such a wonderful soul. You deserve it to have someone that will love you and also send you poetry that you love all the time.

Dex.

Dex?

Yeah... I like Dex. It's different and I hope somehow that you have entrusted me with a part of your name. I have whispered your name (since I am sitting in a secondhand bookshop and I can't say anything to loud because there is a creepy guy working here and giving me the look just for my phone going off) and Dex does work for me. Especially of your HORRIBLE friends call you that as well. Lol. Maybe I don't want to really call you what they call you, but I get that you want to remain anonymous.

The Hamptons? Gosh... So I am really talking to a spoiled rich kid here? Makes sense why you can't tumble out of the closet. I wouldn't either if there was a Hampton's house and a big inheritance at stake. Lol. I'm just joking with you. I won't make you a Hamptons stereotype, although if I did it would be your own fault because you do kinda sound like one. Not that there's anything wrong with that off course. I love rich guys. Especially when they buy me books. Lol.

Girlfriends... See... I can't even imagine kissing a girl, much less having sex with her. I would not call it icky though. (Yes, you using the word icky made me giggle and get a reprimanding look from Mr. Creepy behind the desk.) I would call it utterly disgusting to even consider when there is a perfectly good dick to suck on in your immediate proximity. (See, I can use BIG words too.)

Hahaha. Guys lining up to knock on my door? I wish!!! I have been in a very committed relationship with my right hand for over a year now. Sometimes I cheat on him with my left hand, but please don't tell Righty. He would be very hurt by that news and I do really like him even if he gets a bit boring sometimes.

Nope. I have only ever had one boyfriend and we were together for more than three years. He moved away, met someone else and that was the end of it. We're still friends... Kinda... His new boyfriend doesn't like me much and I can't blame him. Nobody wants their boyfriends ex in the picture, no matter how committed they are to their right hand.

I wish I could show you this bookstore. I am currently sitting with a copy of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Grey in my hands. I think I may buy it actually. I think you would love it here... Well, I hope you would.

If you message back and I don't answer immediately, I am just walking home. (I don't have rich-boy limousine privileges just yet.)

Lots of hugs,

David

P.S. Mr. Creepy is looking at me like I just spat in one of the books just because I am typing to loud on a touch screen. It's either that or he might be jealous of my good looks. I don't think it's the latter.

I get lost in Dorian Grey again after I press the send button. By the time I finally leave my special place I walk out with three books and the sun going down over the skyscrapers that make up the concrete jungle I long to run away from forever. Maybe the Hamptons would be a nice place to settle down one day.