The Boxer and I

Three

‹Three›

            ‹Part 1›

            I don't know why I'm doing this, I really don't.

            However, no matter how many times I tell my fingers not to tap against the touchscreen of my phone, they manage to get to Jake's phone number. There they are – the alignment of black numbers that only two years ago I would dial at least once a day, just to say hello.

            And now, as I stare at the white screen for what seems like forever, part of me wonders why in hell I didn't delete the number when I first went to Australia. And why in hell am I staring at it right now.

            Jake Lloyd

            07567015164

            I re-read the name and the numbers over and over as I sit on the edge of the garden wall of my mums house. The sunset sky above me gives the white screen a tint of red and orange, making his name shine even more.

            I get the urge to tap on the number. One tap, and I'll be calling him.

            No, you can't do that. No, stop, put the finger down. No.

            Too late.

            What the actual fuck are you doing?

            Eyes slightly widening at the realisation that my finger actually did tap on Jake's number, and that my phone is now ringing it, I quickly place the phone to my ear.

            Hang up, hang up, hang up!

            But nope, I continue to wait for the typical 'ring-ring' tone on the other side of the line. However, the number seems to go straight to a voice mail.

            "I'm sorry, but this number is currently out of service. Please try again later." States the woman on the line in her usual patronizing tone.

            I really, really don't know why I just did that. Of course Jake wouldn't have the same number he did two years ago, and even if he did, I don't think he would've picked it up if it was me. I wonder if he still has my old number in his phone, like how I have his; maybe he wanted to delete it, but never really managed to do so, like me.

            I also wonder whether he ever tried to contact me when I left. After all, I did just...disappear.

            Who am I kidding? He probably forgot by the second day.

            The sound of a smooth car engine cuts off my trail of thoughts, causing me to look up at the black Audi TT that pulls up by the curve before me. The car comes to a smooth halt - rolling down the passenger window, Aiden leans over from the drivers seat to a get a better look at me.

            "You're actually on time for once, I was dreading knocking on the door to drag you out." Is the first thing he says, and I smirk back at him automatically.

            "When am I ever late for a party?" I say honestly, stuffing my phone into my shorts pocket and pushing myself off of the garden wall. Aiden smiles in return.

            I step towards the edge of the pavement curve, then lean down and place my folded arms on the tip of the rolled down window, poking my head inside the stylish Audi.