WANTED (Super Slowly Under Construction)

O N E

"Alright Mom, I'll be home later tonight. I promise. I love you too. Alright, bye," I said. My mom, Melinda, hung up first. After checking a few unread text messages, I locked my iPhone and slipped it back into my bag. As I hurriedly made my way through the park, I felt myself collide with something hard, and I quickly found myself on the ground.

"Shit. Are you okay?" I heard a deep voice say. My eyes fell to my bag, which helplessly lay on the ground as everything inside spilled out. Thank goodness my gun was stored in my car and not with me. I grabbed my bag, hastily picked up my belongings, and put them back in my purse. The other guy helped me collect my stuff and retrieved his phone. I grabbed mine and slipped it back into my bag.

My eyes were drawn to him. He had a nice jawline, though his hair was a bit of a mess. It still looked good, but it definitely needed a brush through it. If my mother saw him, she would insist he visit the barber shop to tame that shaggy hair of his.

"Sorry," he said as he stood up and extended his hand to help me stand. I grabbed it and regained my footing. "No, it was my fault. I should have watched where I was going," I replied. He nodded, "Have a good evening." He continued on his original path, and I continued toward my car.

I parked my car on the curb, turned off the engine, and quickly grabbed my bag and the bouquet of pink roses I had bought for my mother. I got out of my car and made my way to her front porch.

I rang the doorbell, and my mom opened the door with a smile on her face.

"These are for you, Mom," I said, offering her the bouquet of her favorite roses. She smiled as she took them and led me inside. I shut the door behind us and locked it. She began to walk toward the kitchen, still admiring the roses. "They smell good, Veronica!" she cheered.

"Did you get my text to pick up some milk on your way?" I looked up at my mother in confusion. I placed my bag on the kitchen bar counter, took off my jacket, and hung it on the back of a bar stool.

"I didn't receive any text from you since our phone call this afternoon," I defended myself. I took a seat on the stool and watched my mom put the roses in a vase. She shook her head in disbelief. I groaned and pulled my iPhone out of my bag, unlocking it.

"See? Nothing," I said, holding the phone up to my mother's face.

She took my phone from my hand and examined it closely. I made a face at her, "Do you need to see the eye doctor again? You don't seem to have 20-20 vision." She looked over my phone and then shook her head at my joke, handing me back my phone. "You sure you didn't delete my call?" she asked. I nodded. "So, who's Jack? You seem to only call him. Is there something I need to know about?"

Confusion masked my face. I looked back at my phone and scrolled through my call history to find evidence that I was not just calling one person.

"Jack."

"Jack."

"Jack."

Jack's name appeared repeatedly in the call logs. I switched to the contacts app.

"Jack."

I switched to the messages app. Nothing. Not even a message from Jack. "This... this isn't my phone." How the hell did I lose my phone? I needed to retrace my steps. I came home last night, had my phone while browsing memes, had it at the store, and had it while walking to my car. 

The guy I bumped into at the park! He must have grabbed my phone, thinking it was his. I grabbed his when everything fell out of my bag, thinking it was mine.

Shit.

"What are you talking about?" my mom asked. She hated being left in the dark. "Nothing. I bumped into a guy, and he grabbed my iPhone, and I grabbed his by accident," I explained.

"Honest mistake," my mom mumbled as she grabbed a bottle of wine, "Just call your phone and ask for a switch-a-roo."

I sighed and put the phone back in my bag. "I will tomorrow. Maybe you need a switch-a-roo and upgrade from that flip phone," I joked. She threw a wooden spoon at me from the other side of the kitchen.

"Shut up, Veronica. Buy me the newest iPhone or the newest Samsung."_ _ _

Later that evening, I returned home from my mother's a little early. Lying in my bed, I reached for the phone sitting on my nightstand and unlocked it.

I clicked the 'messages' app and sent a text.

Me: Hey, I bumped into you earlier today. We accidentally switched phones. Can we meet up tomorrow to fix it?

Mystery Guy: Of course, I'll text you later with details on when and where we can meet.

I didn't bother to reply. I placed the phone back on my nightstand and pulled the covers over my shoulders, letting sleep envelop me completely.