Chapter 1

Tessa's POV

Tessa Gray sighed and almost- almost, mind you- stomped her foot. She scowled. She absolutely loathed girls who stomped their feet. It was plain ridiculous.

A big fat raindrop fell, hitting Tessa on the cheek. What? She groaned.

Why did the world hate her so much today? First, she received tons of homework from every class. Then, her brother Nate, instead of picking her up like he was supposed to, forgets. Leaving her out here, in front of her school- Saint Raziel's Academy for the Gifted- for hours. Now, it was raining.

She decided to try calling Nate again, she knew it would be useless, he never answered. No reply.

Tessa sank to the steps, sighing. Her phone blipped. Oh great, maybe it was Nate.

She checked it, and was momentarily annoyed. She didn't know that number. A telemarketer. Bing! Her phone blipped again.

?: Happy Birthday!

?: James...

Tessa sighed, she seemed to be doing that a lot lately- it was tragic- and started to text the unnamed personage that he had the wrong number when another text appeared. Then another. And another. She decided to play along, she nothing else to do, after all.

?: You bloody, unfaithful arsehole!

?: Sorry! ...

?: Nope... I'm sorry for leaving you with Jessamine today.

?: Happy Birthday!?

She sighed

Tessa: I think that you have the wrong number.

There was a small gap in between the next text, as if the person was hesitating.

?: Jem... you can't be that mad at me.

Tessa: This is the wrong number.

?: Jem!?

Tessa: Wrong number.

?: I really am sorry. You can't stay mad at me forever!

Tessa could feel the remorse coming from the person on the other line. Somewhat.

Tessa: Yes I can... and you have the wrong number!

?: No! If you stay mad at me, I'll be alone!

Tessa: Whose fault is that?

?: Jem! I'd be completely alone!

Tessa: I bet that is an exaggeration. And, no joke, this is the wrong number! I don't know a 'Jem', or a 'Jessamine'. Though... if you shipped them, they would still be 'Jem', or 'Jessamine'! Confusing!

?: ...

?: ...

?: ...

?: You really aren't Jem. Jem would never ship himself with Jessamine. This is a wrong number! Whoops! Awkward! Sorry.

Tessa: That's okay. *sigh*

?: What's up Unnamed Personage?

Tessa: *extreme gasp* Hey! You thief! That's my name for you!

?: Not sorry! I made it better. Anyway... my name is so much better than Unnamed Personage. It's Will.

Tessa: Well Will, I could be a serial killer. It's not safe to give your name away to random strangers.

Will: Are you a serial killer?

Tessa: No.

Will: So there. It was safe to give you my name.

Why was this boy so stubborn? Though, grinning, she realized she was too. It was a conveniently timed distraction.

Tessa: I could have been a serial killer. I could be lying.

Will: Are you?

Tessa: No.

Will: So there. Stop arguing. Now it's only polite to tell me your name. So... tell me.

Tessa: What?! No! You could be a serial killer! And... don't tell me what to do!

Will's POV

Will burst out laughing. Frowning, he realized this was strange. There was something about the physical disconnect between him and whoever he was talking to that made it easier. Out of everyone he knew, and everyone that knew what had happened in his family, only Jem, his best friend, had been able to make him laugh. He had grown out of his carefree childhood personage since his sister, Ella, had passed away. He smiled, determined to get some entertainment from this wrong number.

Will: Wow Mary! That is soooo immature! Of course I'm not a killer. Killers are not brilliant. I am brilliant.

?: That is so not my name! You are not brilliant.

Will: Geez Ashley! How you wound me!

?: Nope. And how do you know I'm a girl? I could be a boy.

Nope, all her arguing gave her away. Not really. But she was a girl. The hard part was proving it.

Will: Brittaney... you're a girl. You're too pretty to be a boy.

?: What?! I could be ugly. You can't see me!

He smiled. She never denied it, he had her trapped.

Will: Yes, I can. You never denied that you are a girl. Staying in a state of denial is bad Chelsea. You're hot.

?: No. That's cause I am a girl. I do what I want. And soooo no! Liar! You're under no authority to happen opinions on my personage, restrain them!

Will: Rebel! I like it! Dorthy... I may need to meet you for coffee tomorrow.

?: I don't meet serial killers for coffee. Only scones. And only on Tuesdays. Dorthy... like the Wizard of Oz?

Will: Yes, an influential, to the imagination of people in comas, book. And Eloise, meeting with murderers is a bad practice! No matter what day of the week, or what food you eat. Marry me?

He frowned, though he knew she was joking, he was getting nervous at the thought that she was going out with other guys. Especially serial killers!

He knew it was unhealthy, but by Raziel, he always got so worried when people around him talked to other people, he knew- he knew- that he wasn't really worthy of keeping someone's attention, not anymore.

He didn't know why he said what he said, he just did. He was having fun talking to this girl, and wanted her to tell him her name.

?: What the?! You're so immature! I face my fears! Therefore, I eat breakfast with danger. (He is my prefered murderer. Because he has manners, his genteel attitude could charm the hearts of thousands of women and men accross the globe. I really am fortunate to meet with him on such occasions, one must always surround themselves with high society, you know.) And Tuesday is the only day he can spare. (He is so busy running his soul-reaping business.) I hope you cry from my rejection.

Will: What the heck Fanny! I am the best offer you could get! You have a sick sense of humor.

?: No. And no. And I am only like this on days where my brother forgets to pick me up for five and a half hours, leaving me in the rain. Soaked to the bone.

Will: Ow! Harsh! Where are you Gabriella? I will pick you up.

Wow. That really sucked. Maybe he could help her. He looked out the window, it was raining heavily. So that must mean she lived in London too! He his logic was useless, but he was for some odd reason- reassuring himself. Looking at the number once more he realized she had the same area code. Yup, she lived here. He grinned, satisfied at his true deductive powers, Sherlock would come for him at any moment.

?: I do not ride with weirdos. I might not live in the same country as you. The chances are almost zero. You are wrong again.

Will: You live in London, Harriet. Because here it is raining very heavily. I am not weird. We have been over this. I am brilliant.

?: I have an aunt named Harriet. Will... I will tell you whatever helps you sleep at night. So... yes, you are brilliant. I do live in London.

Will: So Isabelle... you live in London. You should go out with me. #playinitcool

?: It's not Isabelle. You are SUCH a dork! #rejected

Will: Good. That would have been awkward, right Juliet, because I have a cousin named Isabelle. #youwoundme. #willalwaysloveyou. #neverletgo #Frozen #Disney #childhoodnostalgia

?: OH MAH GOSH! No! You are such a dork! That was... hashtag abuse! #immaturety #growup! #no-oneuseshashtagsanymore #thisisn't2014

Will: OH! Really Kaelie, I'm immature!

?: Nope. Yes Will, you are.

Will: I walked right into that didn't I, Lucie? Good thing you're here to teach me how to verbally defend myself.

?: Yup! That's why I'm here. And try again. We don't want you being shoved in any more trash cans, besides the doctor says its bad for the psyche to be locked into so many lockers. Don't worry sweetheart, I'm here to help.

Will chuckled. His laughter was deep and throaty. His younger by one year sister- Cecily, who was an almost exact replica of him with midnight hair and pansy eyes- burst into the room. Concern was etched on her face.

"Will, are you okay? I'm concerned." She looked down at his phone that lay in his hand. "Oh great, did you change your mind?"

Will knew just what she was talking about. Tatiana had asked him out, he had refused. The railish blonde girl and her persistent eyes creeped him out. He would not change his mind. Gross.

He looked down, grinning, and typed his reply.

Will: Good. Those trash cans smell. I don't know how I fit into those lockers!? My muscles are huge! Thank you so much Maria. I appreciate it.

?: What muscles? You are very bad at guessing names. Has anyone ever told you that?

He snorted. Cecily's face twisted with confusion. "Will, who are you texting?"

"Cecy," he turned to her and smirked, still feeling playful, "it's easier to tell you who I'm not texting. I'm not texting," he scrolled down, reciting the failed names, "I'm not texting; Mary, Ashley, Brittany, Chelsea, Dorothy, Eloise, Fanny, Gabriella, Harriet, Isabelle, Juliet, Kaelie, Lucie, or Maria."

Will nodded at his sister's befuddled face. "So... who are you texting?"

Will sighed, "she hasn't told me that yet. I'm in the process of guessing."

"So... you're texting a stranger?"

Will laughed. "Hey, that's exactly what she told me!"

Cecily sighed, and walked out of his room, slamming the door behind her.

Will set back to work. His thumbs flitted over the keyboard.

Will: Ha ha. Very funny. Please give me a clue Naomi!

?: You still suck. My name starts with a capital, not lowercase, T.

Will: Tyla? Tyra? Tilly? Tammy? Teresa? Tessa? Give me another clue. Like the whole name.

?: ...

?: ...

?: ...

Will: YES! I got it right! Which name was it?

?: Do you promise you are not a serial killer? Or any criminal?

Will: Geez Tyra! I promise! The only crime I'm guilty of is stealing thousands too many hearts.

?: Not it. Fine. It ends in A.

Will: REALLY Tyla?!

?: Duck... duck...

Will: DID YOU JUST REFER TO THOSE EVIL, BLOODTHIRSTY, CANNIBALISTIC BEASTS? AS IF THEY DON'T ALREADY GET ENOUGH ATTENTION! I NEVER THOUGHT ANYONE, EVEN YOU TERESA, WOULD STOOP THAT LOW!

?: Will... take a chill pill.

?: Goose.

Will: Yes! I was right! To celebrate I will take you out to coffee.

Teresa: You are only half right. My name is Theresa, but that sounds like a ninety-two year old woman's name. Therefore, I go by Tessa. There is no way I would ever go to coffee with you. Ever. I don't know you. And you're not my type.

Will: But Tess, (it fits you. Pretty name for a pretty girl.) I love you! I even love your ninety-two year old split personality.

Tess: Tough love. It's unrequited. *shoves a bridge at you* Build yourself a bridge and get over it.

Will grinned.

Tess: Its Tessa. With an A. Not Tess.

Tess: My split personality is chasing you around the neighborhood, she is surprisingly fast for a ninety-two year old woman, with a dusty broom.

Will: Tess, I still love you. With all your sarcasm too.

Tess: Unrequited. Nate said he would pick me up. Goodnight, Will.

Will: TeSs, WhO Is NaTE?

Now what was he supposed to do? Entertain himself?

Tessa: No one. Goodnight.

Why wouldn't she answer his questions?

Will: Who's Nate?!

Will sighed. Tossing his phone on his desk, he closed his eyes, falling into a fitful sleep.

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