Sorry, Wrong Number.

There's a ringing sound on my phone. 512 is the area code for Texas; I subsequently learn that it's an unfamiliar phone number. It's a selfie of a 30-year-old man and his family smiling, a weird photo to receive from across the nation, given that I am.

A man named Alonzo has been sending me texts for the past three years, even though I am only 14 years old and live in Virginia. My knowledge of him has grown over the years, and he appears to be a middle-aged Caucasian man based on the many communications I've received for him.

At the same time, I've been learning about myself. As a six-year-old sixth-grader, I was always seeking clever ways to be subversive in school and with my pals. Now that I had this new tool for evil at my disposal, it was only natural that I get to work:

A Texas Roundup free BBQ dinner will be held on October 10th by the BYU Texas Club, according to my mom! :)" I thought you'd like it," one of the texts read.

After a few minutes of looking at the message, I finally replied.

“YUMMMMY”

The enigma surrounding the mysterious man grew more complex over time. As an example, when I found he belonged to the ominous-sounding "Elder's Quorum" in sixth grade, I was terrified. When I did some research, I discovered that it wasn't a cult after all, but rather a select group of members within the Mormon Church.

My family had already ceased coming to church by this point. I'd been taking art lessons and participating in numerous sports, including tennis, basketball, and archery, and soon church had faded into the background. Instead, I got involved in the Quorum's group messages and joyfully replied, "Let me assist y'all out, brother!" when a member was moving away.

I'm not sure when I first felt bad about lying, but it's been a while now. Occasionally, I worried that my immature comments had tarnished Alonzo's good name within his circle of friends. My social circle was also shifting at the time, and the biggest shift was getting rid of a close but toxic friend. I came to realize that I needed new friendships that were based on mutual support as well as respect.

After that, I received an odd phone call from a woman I didn't recognize. She began venting about her personal problems, such as her children's health issues, her work insecurity, and even her desire to permanently relocate out of state. The B-minus I'd received, the stress of an upcoming archery tournament, and the quarrel I had with my sister all felt insignificant in comparison to my own issues. The fact that she seemed flustered when I told her I wasn't Alonzo told me I should have told her sooner rather than later.

"Congratulations on being married!" came another text a little time later. I had no idea how much had changed in Alonzo's life since I had received his phone number, until now. I'd outgrown my middle school prankster self, had the self-assurance to form a close circle of friends, and dedicated myself to my core passions of art and archery. What's to stop Jared from doing the same?

It still happens from time to time, despite the fact that I've taken every chance to correct the people who text Jared. Just a few weeks ago, I received a strange text message that read, "Endoscopy!" When I received it, I laughed and immediately responded in writing.

"I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong phone number. Nonetheless, I'd like to wish Alonzo the best of luck.