Misconstrue

"five, FOUR, three, two, one."

"This is nuts."*

"What was that?"

I shake my head as I place the phone down on the table. The staff cafeteria buzzes as medical personnel sit and engages in various conversations. For the past ten minutes or so, Samantha has been trying to do the same, but I've been so preoccupied with my phone that I've failed to keep up with her. 

"Did something happen?" The brunette shares a look of concern. "You seem a bit conflicted."

I snort rather unattractively. "I want to delete my Instagram profile." She shakes her at me. "But I think the pictures make me look prettier than I actually am."

She places her fork down as she sighs deeply. It did take a while for me to get acquainted with Samantha, and even though we're roughly the same age, she comes off as a typical mom friend. You know, that one friend who behaves like a mother in every way possible. 

"Balei, you haven't been looking in the mirror, have you?"

"Huh?" I watch as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a few folded notes. Confusion rocks my body as he holds my hand and drops them in my palm. 

"I keep getting numbers, as well as Snapchat usernames, you have no idea how many guys and girls have asked me to deliver these."

I stare down at my opened palm. "Oh."

"You really are one those rare beauties of our generation." I make a face. "I'm being serious, you don't need likes or followers to validate your beauty."

Spoken like a true mother. 

I smile softly as I look up at her. "Thanks Sam, that means a lot." I crumple the notes then reach for my phone. "I don't even use Instagram. Can you believe my stupid roommate used it as a means to catfish someone?" 

She laughs instantly. "No way, but isn't that illegal?" I shrug. "Your roommate sounds interesting."

I scoff softly. "You wouldn't be saying that after spending five minutes with him." I navigate my way through the app's website. "He's currently in an interior decorating phase, our flat looks like an IKEA safe house."

She giggles at the description. "No way, do you have pictures?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, I'll show you once I'm done, you can come over whenever you're free as well."

Just as I was about to finalize the deletion of my misused account, a message pops up on the screen. My thumb hovers over the illuminated screen as a million-and-one thoughts run through my mind. A battle of whether or not I should open up the message ensues, and the act of deleting the profile suddenly gets shoved to the back burner. 

"You done?"

I blink a few times as Samantha breaks through my reverie. "Uh, yeah." I exit the browser. I no longer see the need to delete the profile. "I'll show you the living room first."

The first thing that greets me when I get home is Ben's dancing figure. A bright smile lights up his face when he turns around and sees me standing by the entryway to the kitchen. The somewhat sour day slowly washes away as he does a miserable demonstration of the samba, I laugh softly as she shimmies over to me. 

"Let's go out tonight..."

I make a face. "Do I have to? Can't we just stay in, eat ice-cream, and ignore annoying footballers?"

His eyebrow lifts as I seem to pique his interest. "What happened?"

Sighing heavily, I place my bag on the counter then sit. "As I was about to delete that wretched profile, that new friend of yours sent me a message." I hand him my phone so he can take a look for himself. "A few messages to be exact."