I'd been staring at her number for hours. Tracing digits on my arm as daylight died.
"Call me," her words echoed in my head.
As if it were that simple.
I'd been stalling since school let out. I could've called her hours ago, but it felt too soon. Too early. Too obviously desperate.
But now, I was worried.
What if waiting too long conjured the opposite effect? What if she thought I wasn't interested? Or that I was toying with her? Playing games?
Had I missed my chance?
Was it too late?
Too soon?
Panicking in bed, I snatched my cell on the bedside counter and inserted her number into my contact list. It felt incredibly surreal to type her name into my phone. I caught myself staring at it for another minute - awe-struck at those four beautiful letters - before urgency slapped me out of it.
My finger dove for the call button. Then it froze. Hovering over the screen for another second.
What if she was too busy? Or in a meeting? Or in the middle of something urgent?
I tapped on the messanger icon instead.
I sat up, debating on what to say. Tasha once said, the first text is crucial. It either makes or breaks a conversation. If it's too simple, it could come off as forced; disinterested in the person on the receiving end. But if I was too forward, I could scare them away. Creep them out.
So what should I say? How should I say it?
What would she want me to say?
Chewing on the nail of my thumb, it struck me that she might not want to hear from me at all. Maybe she gave out her number to all her fans? Maybe she was just being nice? Maybe she felt sorry for me?
I shook those thoughts out of my head. They were too discouraging, even if there was some truth in them to consider.
"She told me to reach out," I convinced myself quietly. "So I should."
Sucking in a breath, I forced myself to initiate the conversation.
Hi again, I typed. This is Bonnie :)
Send.
I plopped back on my bed and tossed my phone over to the opposite end. I couldn't bare to look at it. I told myself, if she was interested in a chat she'd respond soon. It was up to her. I couldn't control that part of the process.
But I hoped for a fast reply.
Ten minutes later.
I glared at the digital digits on my alarm clock. They had changed rapidly without any word from Erin. Sighing, I sat up in bed and reached for my phone to give up the wait to charge it for the night.
My hand was just above the screen when it lit up.
Bing.
Frozen, my heart flopped. The words 'new message' glowed on the lockscreen. I snatched the device fast and swiped the notification to the right.
Hey :)
I smiled. The chilly air of nightfall had already swept into the room, but that single word was enough to keep me warm through the night.
Suddenly courageous, I was quick to respond.
Thanks again for helping me out this morning! If you're still interested in spending time together, just tell me when! I'll be sure to come to you this time. :)
Send.
The reply came much faster the second time. I waited less then a minute before I heard my phone chime again.
Then I heard a creak.
Footsteps stopped at the end of the stairway, behind my door. My fingers froze on the screen before I could read her response.
I shut the lights off fast, buried my phone behind my pillow and tucked myself under the blankets. Closing my eyes, I parted my lips slightly and faced the wall, pretending to be asleep as the door squeaked open.
Even though I couldn't see the intruder, I could smell him. He reeked of booze every night.
Stumbling through my bedroom, he cursed at the books or whatever blocked his way to my bedside. I could feel him staring at me like a starved animal as he neared.
The bed squeaked when he plopped beside me, intentionally trying to wake me up. It squeaked again when he reached out to run his fingers through my hair. They stopped near the tips, clutching them as he brought them to his face to sniff with a loud inhale.
"Bunny," he whispered with a light tug. "C'mon, bunny. Wake up." He urged, tugging on my hair again. This time, with more force. "I don't got much time before she notices-"
"Bob!" Called my aunt. "Where you at! What you doing!"
My uncle groaned.
"Just checkin' on the kid," he yelled back before he released my hair. "She'd been complaining about her lights all morning," He lied as he treaded upstairs, shutting my door behind him. "I'll have to get a better look at them tomorrow."
Theor conversation went on until their voices neared each other. They didn't go quiet until they met in their bedroom, slowly muting. I waited for their door to shut before I dashed to secure mine.
Locking the knob with trembling hands, I tried to stifle my cries by holding my breath. I backed away from the doorway, but it became much harder to breathe in the basement. The air felt denser, weighing down on me along with the uncertainty of what would happen tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that...
Fear was constant in that house.
Bing.
I flinched at the chime of my phone again. Once my heart had settled, I walked over to check on the notification.
(2) New messages.
The replies were short. But it was enough to give me reason to runaway for the night.
Let's meet up rn :)
Come to the den.
Without hesitating, I snatched my hoodie, slipped on my converses and snuck out through the hopper window.