Heartache Hotline (Connected #1) | ✔

I'M A DICK

Oliver's POV

I'm a dick.

Knowing this and feeling bad for it still isn't enough for me to reply to Macy's texts right now. A week has passed since I last saw her; since her birthday that brought around many revelations. I've been spending this week processing everything that happened and I guess that included me being too much of a pussy to call Macy. I just don't know what to say.  

It's three o'clock in the afternoon and I've been staring at Macy's last text for almost an hour lost in my thoughts. Maybe I should call her. I don't want her to think she's done something wrong - it's not her fault she doesn't remember. 

My eyes close for a second as I let my hand drop to my chest, clasping onto my phone tightly. The pillow beneath my head taunts me to have a nap and put this off until later. But I know better. Later will turn into tomorrow and tomorrow will turn into next week.

This is like high school all over again with my assignments.

A heavy sigh falls past my lips, I could call Macy's work. If she's working that is - it is a Sunday. If the referral number goes through and she picks up, then I'll have no option but to talk to her.

 My fingers work slowly to enter the number, not looking forward to pressing the dial button. When it comes time, my thumb hovers above my screen, nerves swimming through my body. I shake my head and press down, waiting for the automatic voice to come through before I enter the referral number and wait some more as the line rings.

Please don't pick up.

Please pick up.

Please don't pick up

Please pick- 

"Hello, you're speaking with Macy from Heartache Hotline. How may I cure you today?" Macy's angelic voice greets me and I freeze, "Hello? Anyone there?" Shit, I don't know if I can do this.

"Seriously? We get people like you every day who prank calls our hotline and it's not fair to take up our time that could be used helping people. I'm going to hang up now, bye-"

"Wait!" I exclaim in a panic, realising that I really do want to talk to her. I've missed her voice.

There's a silence coming from her end. I pull back my phone to see if she hung up but it says we're still connected. Maybe she doesn't know it's me. "Um, it's Oliver," I say softly as the back of my left hand rests against my forehead.

"I know." Her voice is quiet now, possibly cautious. "Sorry, I-um, I guess I wasn't expecting for you to call. You've been M.I.A all week."

What do I even say? Except for... "I'm a dick, I'm so sorry."

"Did I do something to upset you? We were fine when I left your place on Sunday. At least I thought we were."

"No, no we were fine and you didn't do anything wrong. You just don't remember what happened and I guess that bothered me a bit." There, that's half the reason.

"What do you mean? What did I forget about?" Her anxiety mixed with embarrassment resonates through the phone and I long to reach through and embrace her. 

My body moves until I'm in a comfortable sitting position on my bed, my bed that had Macy occupying it only a week ago. "I lied when we woke up - about nothing happening the night before."

"I don't understand. Why would you lie? What happened?"

My eyes squeeze closed in apprehension, "Where do you want me to start?"