Wig Girl Stole Him / Chapter 4: The Eight-Hour Accident
Wig Girl Stole Him

Wig Girl Stole Him

Author: Franklin Rasmussen

Chapter 4: The Eight-Hour Accident

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03

I added Derek on Instagram—he initiated it. My hands were still shaking, but the notification gave me a rush of adrenaline.

After getting ready for bed that night, I still couldn’t believe it. I told my roommates the story for the tenth time, just to hear them groan. “He even walked me to the dorm…” I poked my head out to brag to my roommates.

“We know, we know. He asked for your Insta, walked you downstairs, and said you could contact him if you need anything.” One roommate chucked a stress ball at my door, another said, “We get it!” while flossing dramatically.

“…Okay.” I clicked my tongue, pretending not to care.

“He must’ve noticed you a long time ago.” The other two nodded. I wanted to believe them, but a tiny part of me doubted.

“How is that possible?” I didn’t admit it out loud, but inside I was giddy with joy. Derek must secretly like me too. My heart was playing an upbeat pop song.

But after I sent him the photos, I politely messaged to ask if he’d gotten back to the dorm. How come almost two hours passed and he still hadn’t replied? I toggled airplane mode on and off, checked the campus Wi-Fi, stalked his IG stories, and blamed the universe for my anxiety.

The emotional shift from elated to defeated only took one “read but no reply” from Derek. I fell asleep in a daze, woke up to find my phone not only in a Messenger call, but showing over 8 hours of call time. And the other party was Derek! Damn! I didn’t even drink last night, how did I go nuts? The only explanation: I must’ve butt-dialed him on Messenger as I conked out, the phone face-down beneath my pillow, auto-connecting until morning.

“Derek?” I tentatively called out, wondering if he was asleep. The situation was so bizarre I debated telling my therapist.

A lazy, slightly annoyed voice came from the other side, “Hmm?” It sounded like he’d just woken up, or maybe never fell asleep.

Damn! You jerk! I’ve heard of sleepwalking, but sleep-calling? Only at college.

“Aubrey.” That deep, bubbling voice continued. I was already daydreaming, thinking about dreams that don’t belong to this season.

“You snore so loud, and grind your teeth—you kept me up all night.”

??? I don’t admit it! How could I snore? No one’s ever said that! My pride took a hit. I slapped a hand over my mouth on instinct, checked the time, and fought the urge to send a mortified emoji. I considered texting my dentist.

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