𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 #22

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hello?

she answered tiredly.

hey, you still mad at me?

there was something different in dave's tone, narnia noticed. almost like he was holding back something.

umm. . i don't know.

it was a prank. i wanted you to be mad.

that's stupid, why?

look at your backyard babygirl.

narnia furrowed her eyebrows, as she took another bite of her burger, standing up and walking out her room and towards the way, leading to the backyard.

she reached the door, placing her hand on the doorknob, hesitating.

i'm scareddd.

girl, if you don't open the door.

narnia sighed, biting her lip - as she twisted the door knob, getting ready to open it.

"what are you doing?!" tiffany, shouted at her.
narnia jumped up, and quickly spun around.
"um. . ."
"ummm?!" tiffany mocked her.
"i th–thought i heard something out there." she spoke in a soft tone.
"mmm. . ." tiffany was getting ready to look put the window.
"your money is on the table!" narnia exclaimed, causing tiffany to pull back.

narnia completely forgot dave was on the phone.
he was silent, listening to the conversation.
she muted the phone, before he could hear anything else.

"hmm. . . i'm going out," tiffany slurred, turning around and picked up a half bottle of vodka on the glass coffee table. "don't wait up."

narnia waited a few moments, before hearing the front door open and close.
she blew out a breath she didn't know she was holding in.

she unmuted the phone, and placed up on her ear.

". . .hello?"

"narnia! you okay?!"

"yeah."

her voice cracked.

"um, that was my. . . mom? she had forgotten where she placed her check."

she lied.

"narni—"

"i'm going to look now."

she cut him off before he could ask anymore questions.
she opened the door, and scanned her backyard.

there were at least three huge boxes.

"oh wow, hold on dave, i need to carry them in the house."

she told him before, placing down her phone - and getting ready to pick up the heavy boxes.

around five minutes later, of picking up and dragging the boxes - they were all finally in her room. she locked the door, behind her.

𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 // dave.eastWhere stories live. Discover now