“I’ve honestly worried sometimes that you’ve forgotten how to form whole sentences,” Bri said, her voice overly serious. “You’re my best friend, Tobyhanna. And I’m concerned for you.”
“Emojis are fun!” Toby protested, her voice rising. “It’s not like I’m the only one who uses them. You all do.”
“I don’t,” Wyatt said with a shrug.
“See?” Toby said, pointing at him in triumph, then frowning a second later when she must have realized this didn’t help her argument.
“You need to dial it back,” Palmer said as she pulled out her phone. “Like this afternoon, you texted me ‘I’m so whale, dancing girl, dancing girl, blushing smiley, nervous-teeth smiley, star, star, pizza.’?” She looked up from her phone. “What was that supposed to mean?”
Toby didn’t respond, just pointedly looked down at the ground, and I wasn’t sure if this was because she was being criticized in front of Wyatt, or because the message was actually about him. Judging by the way Toby had glanced in his direction while it was being read, I had a feeling it might be the latter.
“We’re only encouraging you to maybe use more text-based communication,” Bri said, a little more gently. “You know, for a fun change every now and then.”
“Emojis can express everything you need them to!” Toby said.
“Oh, really?” Palmer asked, the look coming into her eyes that I knew all too well. If Toby hadn’t been so riled up, she would have noticed it too. It was the look we had all come to fear. When Palmer looked like that, suddenly she was yelling, “Fire drill!” when at a red light, which meant we all had to get out of the car, run around it, and change seats before the light turned green. It was how I had ended up not being able to use the past tense for a whole month of AP History and the reason Bri still refused to eat wraps. Palmer was about to throw down a challenge. “Then I bet you can’t go the rest of the summer using only emojis.”
“And if I can?” Toby asked, ignoring the fact that both Bri and I were shaking our heads at her. This was Toby’s Achilles’ heel, and always had been—the moment she should walk away, she dug her heels in more, even when she was given an out, and her stubbornness always came back to bite her.
“Then . . . I’ll never give you any grief about your emoji usage,” Palmer said, raising an eyebrow. “You can use them to your heart’s content. But if you can’t, you can’t use any for the rest of the year.”
“You’re on,” Toby said, and Palmer held out her hand to shake.
“Witness?” Palmer asked, and Tom and Wyatt raised their hands. “Okay, Toby has agreed to text using only emojis for the rest of the summer. And if she can’t, no more emojis until next year. If she can, I never make fun of her again.”
“What did you just do?” Bri asked, staring at Toby. “And why are the stakes so low for Palmer?”
“It’s fine,” Toby said, though she was starting to look discomfited. “I can totally get what I need to say across to you guys. I mean, it might take some more work, but that’s why emojis are awesome.”
“Not just us,” Palmer said, shaking her head. “Nothing but emojis in all your texts to everyone.”
Toby paled—it was clear she hadn’t considered this. “Wait,” she said a little faintly. “You didn’t say that. Did you?”
“She did just say texts,” Tom said, though I wasn’t sure how much this meant, since he would have backed Palmer up in pretty much anything.
“Wyatt?” Toby asked, turning to him, looking more and more worried.
Wyatt shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “Miss Palmer speaks the truth.”
“But . . .” Toby looked from me to Bri, like we hadn’t been trying to stop her a minute before. “How am I supposed to tell my mom I’m running late for dinner? Or ask someone to cover my shift at work?”
“Be creative,” Palmer said with a grin. “I mean, emojis can express whatever you need them to. Someone told me that.”
“Fine,” Toby snapped, like she hadn’t just agreed to these terms. “I can totally do this. Just watch.”
“I will,” Palmer said, “and don’t think we won’t be checking your phone to make sure you’re not cheating.”
“Andie,” Bri said, turning to me with the air of someone who knows that a subject change would be wise, “how was your date?”
“Oh, yeah, the date,” Tom said, turning to me and smiling wide. “So?”
“Ugh,” I said, as the earlier part of my night came back to me, and my friends’ expressions immediately changed from excited to sympathetic.
“Oh, no,” Palmer said, reaching out and giving my hand a squeeze. “Not Dogboy! I had high hopes for him.”
“Dogboy?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, well,” I said with a shrug. “One of those things.”
“Was it a bad date?” Bri asked, scooting closer to Palmer so that I could sit next to her.
“I didn’t think it was terrible,” I said, thinking back to the actual time spent at the restaurant. It would have been fine if Clark had gone along with any of my conversation suggestions. “But then when he drove me home . . .”