It was almost November when I gave in and called her again. I hadn't heard a peep from the mysterious woman for over a month but there wasn't a day when I didn't think about her and the sorrow I heard through her slurred words.
"Hello?" I was stunned, she actually answered. "Hello?"
"Hey, uh, it's James."
"Yeah, I got your voicemail; added you to my contacts. Listen I'm sorry about that, I always tell my friends to take my phone away when I drink," she awkwardly joked.
"You added me to your contacts?"
"Yes. Is that weird? I only did it so I don't accidentally call you again."
"I wouldn't mind." It was silent for a few seconds and I wished I could literally bend my leg up and stick my foot in my mouth. "How are you doing?"
"Well I haven't drunkenly called you again so I'd say I'm feeling a little better."
"Who was he?"
She stayed silent once more but she had the option to hang up if she didn't want to answer. I had the feeling she wanted to talk about him though and after a bit, she responded.
"My boyfriend."
"What happened to him?"
"Car accident."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I don't deserve the empathy," she said sourly through layers of sorrow.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because it was my fault."
Then I heard the dial tone and almost entered her number again but figured she wanted some time. It would be a struggle not to give in, but I'd call her tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Wrong Number
Teen Fiction#14 piano 11/22/18 #34 anonymous 10/3/18 #38 feelgood 10/21/18 #106 secret identity 10/21/18 #136 finished 10/21/18 James gets an interesting phone call one night that sparks a friendship with the caller. Will their mysterious back and forth lead to...
