PHOEBE HAYES
THE PHONE RINGS ONCE, twice, then five fucking times. I swear if Elijah doesn't pick up the phone then I'm going to walk to his house and show up on his doorstep. He'll hate that even more than talking to me on the phone. I just know that.
Finally, he answers. "What do you want?"
"First of all, good morning to you too. This is payback for calling me so early in the morning. And can you buy me a cat?"
"Why the fuck would I want to buy you a cat? I can barely stand you as it is, let alone spending money on you." He huffs out a deep breath.
"Because I'll get lonely without you here." I fake pout.
"Fuck off," he says, hanging up the phone on me.
This stupid motherfucker. I don't know why I put up with him. He doesn't even know how to take a joke and tell me, who at our age doesn't know how to take a joke? This is why serious people are so hard to be around.
I call him again and on the fourth ring he picks up the phone. "Stop calling me." His low voice comes through the phone, sending shivers down my spine. It's literally twelve in the afternoon, why is he just getting up?
"Are you just now getting up?" I laugh.
"Shut up or tell me what you want so I can go back to sleep."
"How can I tell you what I want if I'm supposed to shut up? You're a dumbass."
"Phoebe, I really don't need to be talking to you right now but here I am, so spit it out."
I weigh my options in my head thinking about whether I can ask him or not. I mean I could use the extra help and considering the fact that all my other friends are lazy bums, he's basically my only option.
I shift my back against the couch, pulling the fluffy pillow closer to me. The soft fur rubs against my bare thighs. I will refuse to wear anything besides sleep shorts until the world is freezing over. Call me crazy but pants are uncomfortable to sleep in and I stand by that.
He clears his throat and suddenly all my thoughts jumble in my brain. "Okay so I kind of need your help today. . ."
"What exactly do you need me to help you with?"
"Okay so the drama club needs help moving a bunch of boxes for their next play and being an amazing person, I offered to help them. But the problem is, I have the strength of a frog and as many back problems as an old man."
"So basically, you want me to help you move boxes? That's what you called me for?"
"Pretty much," I shrug even though he can't see that.
"No," he counters.
"Why not? Maybe it'll help you not be such a grouch all the time." I turn my head to look out the big window on my right. In mid December it's almost always covered in snow. Though, if I'm being honest it's only snowed here a few times since winter began.
"Because I'd rather not spend more than thirty minutes with you."
"You're such a romantic, you know that? You know just the right words to say to a girl to make her go running into your arms or rather, running for the hills." I pause, "but unfortunately this is something that I need to do and I'd rather not do it alone."
"Are you really begging me for my help right now?" he questions.
"Call it whatever you want as long as you'll agree to help me."
YOU ARE READING
Winter in Paris
Teen Fiction❝You were always my favourite person. ❞ • • • Phoebe wanted nothing more than to get away from her family, so when the opportunity arose, she jumped at it, not knowing what was waiting for her in Par...
