Devil Mail by P. V. Edwards Page A

Marvin Gaye song - nothing added, nothing subtracted, just the lyrics. “We will not be getting anything on….Baby,” Angela chortled. He may have been the nicest, kindest man in the world, but in his profile picture he looked mad at the world, like he was primed to rip someone’s throat out at any second. 
                  While on the website, she poked around to see if anyone new had joined. Some of the profiles she had previously viewed warranted a second look, but there were none of real interest to her; neither old nor new, with the exception of KdoyleIII, whom Angela had affectionately labeled ‘Boaz’. She stared at his picture and read his essay answers again, trying to put her finger on whatever it was about him that had her so enthralled.
                  Upon checking to see when he was last online, she discovered that he last logged on the night before, so was probably aware that Angela had viewed his profile multiple times. He had not even viewed her profile once. Why had he shown no interest? Was she not his type? In hindsight, she was thankful that she had not sent him a message; she did not handle rejection well.
                  A call to her mother to tell her that she was sick in bed, and a text message to Julia to notify her that zumba was off for the evening, was all that Angela could manage before falling asleep again.
                  By the time she woke up, it was late morning. The low hum of her laptop reminded her that she had not logged off before falling asleep. A message from Matt commenced what turned into hours of instant messaging:
     
    “Yes, one subject I know very little about is…….YOU! But I’m working on changing that. BTW aren’t you supposed to be working?
    Matt” 
     
     
                  “I’m off sick today. I think I have the flu.
                  What else do you want to know about me?
                  Angela”
     
     
                  “There are things that will be revealed over time
                  as we become friends. Some things you’ll show me
    by your actions as opposed to your words. There’s
    no need to force it or rush it. So, your feeling under
    the weather is a blessing in disguise – I get to talk to you. Selfish, I know!
    Matt”
     
     
                  “I don’t know if I like the idea of my actions being
                  scrutinized like that.
                  Angela”
     
                 
    “No scrutiny, you’ll naturally tell me about yourself just by being yourself and I’ll do the same. I’m sure you’re an angel, just like your name suggests. Hope you have someone to take care of you until you get better.
    Matt”
    “No angel here, just an ordinary girl trying to live right. I live alone, so I’ll just rest and take it easy until it works its way out of my system.
                  Angela”
     
                 
                  That was where the generalized conversation ended. From there, Matt dragged Angela along for a ride through statistical analyses of survey results and data ranging from the rise in people living alone to the percentage of people who die from the flu each year. Along the way, Angela learned about the chances of catching the flu, the effectiveness of the flu vaccine, as well as the reliability of the surveys being dependent upon the accurate interpretation of raw data.  There was also reference to the importance of establishing a strong friendship as a firm foundation of a lasting relationship. This was topped off with a citation of the percentage of best friends who end up marrying each other and the odds of those marriages being successful.
                  Angela was exhausted by the afternoon, her head throbbing more vigorously than when she first awoke. It was almost two o’clock when Matt mercifully wrote that